The Becoming

Trails nodded to the drunken ghoul on the curb as he exited the general store. Topsy always seemed to forget the talks they shared. Soon as the bruises went away he started skimming again. It was getting ridiculous now, every three weeks the same story. This time he'd shot the buck in the leg, hoping a longer lasting wound would have the same effect on the lesson.

Some would say Hectic was making a stand against the Khans extortion, most actually. Trails chose to see it as a gross case of disrespect and ingratitude, Did Topsy not appreciate how the Khans kept the raiders away from his store? Or maybe it was just that since his brother, Turvy, was on a clean streak he didn't like the Khans were around. Well with all the stress of taking care of his brother Turvy would no doubt be back into dash, so the problem would sort itself out.

He checked his caps, a little over a grand. Enough for the night in any hotel, but he still needed to furnish the house before he told Zesty about it. Bargain basement it was then. He turned on a back hoof and trotted briskly to the Wrangler, wanting a drink along with his stained mattress.

Gentle Breeze was trotting angrily by the road. She searched for something to take her frustrations out on. She wasn't sure she could take much moore stress on her emotions, much more anger at the world, or confusions, before she really snapped. She didn't have much time before it might afffect her sanity.

Seeing an overturned cart on the road, she kicked it as hard as she could, shattering bits of it pretty well. She sighed, and grumbled. Her fur was somewhat dirty, her hair somewhat messy. She didn't feel very 'Gentle'.

Breeze looked out of place on the streets of Everfreeside,even if she was shabbier than normal. The mare was clearly from someplace nicer than this backwater pile of rags, which made her an obvious target for it's grifters. A couple of the beggars gave her their normal spiel as she passed, which clearly fell on deaf ears. For most ponies that would be the end of it, sadly Breeze wasn't most ponies. One pulled a knife, the other a lead pipe, and both ran after her.

She turned to look at them, a look of anger fiery in her eyes. In that fiery look was a coldness from deep in her soul. She hated the world, and almost all of its inhabitants. She dared the ponies with the weapons to just try and hurt her, with that look in her eyes.

She looked mostly just like any other teenage pony in a good enough area; angsty and gloomy. But she had grown up much faster than most teenage ponies, and she was this close to snapping.

She stood her ground, watching the weapon wielding beggars carefully, assessing her situation with much calculation.

Trails heard the beggers give there pitty party to somepony behind him. Judging off their lack of 'thank you, grace upon you' and other rehearsed hollow well wishes, the pony didn't buy into it. Then he heard another sound, this time the scrape of metal on concrete. With a jerk he turned to see what the hell was going on, as a Khan it was his job to keep Everfreeside relatively safe and clean, long as everypony paid that is.

Trails saw that the victim was a mare and quickly got to action. Pulling a knife on a buck, that he could understand and earned a simple beating. Trying to bloody up a mare, on the other hoof, well that got him to draw his pistol. Two loud cracks rang out as Trails fired on the buck with the knife. The first shot buried itself in the buck's shoulder, painfully but not lethally, the second went wild and landed at the drifter's hooves. While the wound wasn't lethal, it was enough to scare the vagrant half to death, making them drop the knife and run.

Gentle Breeze looked up at Trails with curiosity, and then self-hatred. She recognized the stallion, as she recognized almost every pony by the muscular structure of their individual bodies. She had learned to do so as a well-trained doctor, and artist.

"It's you," she whispered under her breath. "I hadn't done anything then... Kestrel, and... "

As Breeze relived her first day as a Stableton Hospital doctor, she grew more angry at herself. It was never this stallion's fault, she knew, but. She had given into his word and done nothing. She had apologized to Sparkfire time and time again, and she would never forgive herself, truly. However, it was likely that if she hadn't done what the stallion had said, she could be long dead.

Trails holstered his 45 and started again on his way to the Wrangler. The beggars had been reminded of the food chain, and how to act when the top dog was in town, no point in killing them. The ponies on the street were some of the biggest users in Everfreeside, and while the Khans didn't deal with them directly, their death would be felt in his pocket book. Before he could get too far he heard the mare say something.

"Who, me?" He said nonplussed, looking around for anypony else she might be talking to.

"Yes, you!" Gentle Breeze hissed. "You! You told me to stay down and... that dragon..."

She gulped, and then chuckled darkly to herself. "I'm not sure if that makes me owe you a 'thanks', or a buck to the face. Probably the former. I'd have probably been killed by Kestrel if I had ...."

She trailed off, grinning but obviously very unhappy. "Sisters, I'd love to kick something to bits right about now! Augh," she said unhappily. "You. I don't know your name. I'm Gentle Breeze. You?"

Trails raised an eyebrow as the mare went on about something completely unrelated to what just happened. If you're gonna flag down a buck that just drew on a couple of thugs to save you, you'd thank him right? [i]Dragons...what the? Kes? OH, I see said the blind man,to his deaf wife, as they watched their crippled children play.[i/]

"Happy Trails, Trails for short." He extended a hoof in greeting and gave Breeze a look over. She had clearly been down a, let's call it exciting, path since he'd last seen her. One that ended with her pissed off in Everfreeside, getting attacked by random chem addicts. "You got a place to stay tonight?"

"Nice to finally know the name of a potential... erm... ally," she said, bitterly. She shook hooves with Trails, and sighed. "Nah, got nowhere to stay, never really did. By the way, what's with the whole... why did you shoot at those beggars with the knife? I know they were going to attack me and all, but who really randomly protects people these days? I certainly haven't done much in the way of protecting anyone recently." She hissed this last sentencd to herself.

"I'd shoot any buck that tried to pull a knife on a mare." Trails shrugged. "Common decency, really. "'Sides, when I'm making rounds it's my job to keep things nice and quiet. This cut acts like a sheriff's badge sometimes. Let's get out of her, reckon you could use a bed tonight instead of a street." Trails looked up at the sun, weighing his options. We can make it by nightfall. "C'mon I've got a spare bed at home, it's yours for long as you need or want it."

Gentle Breeze was midly surprised by the gesture. "I... I'm not sure I'll be takin' you up on your offer," she said, a hint of bitterness in her tone at the word your.

She sat down. "I no longer care about myself, Trails. A bed is not necessary, nor is food, water, or really anything. Use what you've got for ponies with a purpose."

"Purpose?" Trails rose an eyebrow to her verbal self assault. "Purpose is something that only exists in comic books and greeting cards, life's what you make of it. Now come on, you look like you could use a decent place to sleep and a hot meal for once. I'm not taking no for an answer." He saw a bit of his younger self in this mare, lost and angry. When he was like that he needed a life line, and would be damned if she didn't get one now. "I live with the rest of the Khans a few hours trot from here in Red Rock, maybe you'll find some purpose there."

Having little right to argue at this point, she followed him. The question only appeared in her swimming thoughts a little bit later.

"Who are the Khans?" she asked, confused.

And what was all this he was saying about greeting cards and whatnot? Cutie marks displayed one's purpose, and what good was a pony whose innate talkent was daydreaming?

Well, it was storywriting, actually. But it might as well have been the same thing. All she ever did was wander in her thoughts, living a life inside her head completely separate from the reality she truly lived in.

"We're a brotherhood." Trails said simply, nodding to Topsy as they passed the buck hobbling his way to the New Pegasus Clinic. "One great big family that looks nothing like each other. If you ask the NLR they'll probably call us a bunch of chem dealing raiders, if you ask me the NLR are a bunch of raiders pretending to be a country. If you want to know more the best pony to talk to is Papa Khan. He's our leader, and after the massacre at Bitter Springs, the last of the first 9. What brought you all the way out here anyway? Stableton's an awfully long way away."

"I needed to just get away from there," she answered. "I didn't want to let out my anger on ponies I actually gave a flying buck about."

She thought it a good enough answer; it answered his question pretty fully, but now he might ask some other ones she'd rather not be asked.

Ah, well, her own fault. He asked it, she'd tell it.

Her mind began wandering briefly again. The First 9? Papa Khan? It all seemed intruging. Gentle Breeze was quite interested in meeting the fellow.

Trails nodded curtly at Breezes answer, seeing the dodge in it. She wasn't telling him something, not like she had to anyway. Best to let her keep that to herself until she chose otherwise. Despite how often he had made it, the trip in and out of Red Rock felt wrong. He now had to pass right by McMaren, luckily for him the area around the area outside the base was widely considered neutral ground. Long as he didn't show up with a detachment of Fiends or something and declare a siege he could walk past without much worry.

"Stay close to me." He told Breeze in a low voice as they crossed the bridge into Fiend territory. "These guys are on good terms with the Khans, but the ones outside the Stable, well they're outside for a reason."

Breeze seemed mildly confused, but complied. Obviously, Trails knew much more about this area than she did, and something in her wanted to trust him. In a way, he may have saved her at least once before.

She looked up at him ( wow he was pretty tall, how short she felt now ) with a slightly annoyed curiosity. Could she really trust him?

In her eyes, he'd have to earn it. At the moment, she didn't much like him. Much. But that part of the old her still lingering in her mind wanted to be friends with almost everypony, but now they must all earn her trust to be considered her friend. She somewhat hoped he could become one.

She didn't really feel like she had any at the moment.

"I..... needed to get myself moving before I..... decided to kill myself."

Why did she tell him about that?

Trails kept his eyes darting around, searching every shadow and window for movement. When push came to shove he didn't trust the Fiends any further than he could throw them. A couple of the chemmed up raiders watched them from a crumbling ruin to their right. They kept their weapons at their hips, as good a sign as Trails could hope for. They were at the very least not high on dash today, probably PTMs, that being the last shipment.

"I know what you mean, need a change of scenery cause you just can't stand all the reminders and judgement." He said to Breeze, taking one final look back at the edge of Fiend territory before they hit the wild and untamed stretch of road that would end in Red Rock. "I've been there before."

"Oh, I'm sure plenty of ponies have been in this situation," Breeze grumbled, in a tone making herself not even sure as to whether or not she was being sarcastic. "I don't even know how I feel about anything other than just general anger at myself. Part of me wants to take it all out on something, but what is there to take it out on without getting shot at, exploded, or blasted to bits?"

Trails nodded as he listened to Breeze's venting, keeping an ear out for the tell tale sounds of a Hellhound, or a drunken raider. "There's not a lot, I suppose we've got the dummies at the arena. You can buck those all day, no need to worry about getting shot. On the contrary, you do it enough, you may end up with a cut." Trails stopped at the mouth of the canyon to wave a hoof, as if unveiling some grand invention. "Here it is, Great Khan HQ. We wine, dine, and just about everything else here. Let me give you the tour."

He then resumed his canter, nodding at the various landmarks as they passed. "That house up there is Papa Khan's, if you want to know anything, he's the pony to ask. The tents up there are reserved for his lieutenants. Lock Stock, Place Your Bets, Moonshine, and Kick Start. Stock and Start are the only ones who sleep there though. Bets and Shine like to sleep out by the labs, down that path beyond the arena." A few ponies called out to Trails as he walked by, one asking for a spar. Trails laughed and said some other time before resuming. "Over yonder, in that corner is a creek, it pools up so if you want a drink feel free. Don't worry about rads, it's all clean snow melt. And then this," Trails stopped outside a yurt with a small campfire and a cauldron painted on it. "is where I live."

"The Khans... I think I might've heard of them before," Breeze mentioned as they were walking. She seemed rather interested, especially when somepony asked Trails to spar. The creek seemed unusually clean, and it seemed like it would be nice and fresh, different than the filtered water she was used to. She'd have some later, though.

Happy led her to his own yurt. It was nice, with a campfire and a cauldron painted on the side. Had she not been in such a bitter mood, she would have complimented him on it. Maybe even shown him some of the drawings that were in her saddlebags. However, she didn't want to show him her gorey designs, each marked with a spot of her blood.

She put down her saddle bags and sat down. She didn't say anything, but was glancing around, looking back toward Papa Khan's. She was thinking for a while, before saying suddenly, "What are the Khans, exactly?"

Trails sat down across from Breeze and started a fire, feeling a little hungry, and certain that she felt the same. When he heard her question he answered automatically, the explanation of his brotherhood was something he'd had to do a lot of recently. "According to the official ABP we're a very hostile and organized group of raiders with a chemical distribution arm that funds the remainder of our operations. In my opinion we're a family, that simple. Granted, a dysfunctional one, but it's a family. We're smaller than we were when I joined up, the majority got slaughtered at Bitter Springs. What you see here is everypony with a patch, we shut down every other charter and fell back here. All in all we're about 200 ponies strong"

Breeze couldn't help but run through her imagination as he spoke. "A family, huh....?" She thought fondly of her mother and father, whom she never saw again after leaving the stable, and of Atriark, who she had met again, but probably wouldn't another time soon.

"Two hundred ponies, a family? Haah, one big family."

But she couldn't help but ask....

"Are you still looking for new members?"

Trails chuckled, he'd been just as eager when he'd first met the Khans. Something about them appealed to wanders it seemed. Maybe it was that they too, stood on the fringe of society. Maybe it was the strength and individuality they represented in a rapidly changing desert. Or maybe it was as simple as they were a family, a place where anyone could find a new future, a fresh start free of you past.

"That's not my call, Papa Khan decides whether prospects are ready, and whether hang arounds deserve to become prospects. But with our current numbers, i doubt he'd turn you away."