Resting his head on the rough wood of the counter Rusted Bit felt as though he could fall back asleep. It was in all matter of respects what I wanted. Or felt he wanted. And the flickering neons of the kitchen interior weren't helping his eyes. Sparking on the walls they flickered on and off in random patterns. It was painful to watch. He held his eyes close tight as he frowned.

The only blessing was the smell of hot food. It helped him forget the smell of piss and shit and brahmin sweat. He could hear the sizzling of something on a griddle. The heavy aromatic aroma of freshly grilled food.

The blue unicorn had nearly carried Rusted Bit through the streets in an envelope of his own magic. He couldn't claim it felt good, it was more a tugging on his mane. But disoriented and swimming in a painful haze that clouded his mind it was perhaps for the best. His stomach turned. He felt as though he would throw up again. But he had done that all previously. All he had was the two-punch discomfort of an empty belly twisting about itself, feeling as if it were drilling a hole through him. He felt completely tied up on the inside.

There was a soft thunk on the wooden counter. He weakly opened his eyes to see. A tall glass of water rested in front of him. A timid yellow unicorn stood nearby, giving Rusted a fearful anxious look. He wondered briefly if it was from last night. But he wouldn't know for sure. And he doubted anyone would tell him. But it didn't matter. Not to him.

“Drink, it'll make you feel better.” Rusted's suited companion barked. He sat next to him on the short row of wooden crates dragged up to the counter as rough chairs. Cushions full of dry dead grass and hay had been added to try and add a little been of comfort to the dining experience, but they did nothing but make his ass itch. Over head the sound of rain pattered across corrugated iron. The ferocity of the weather had picked up, and now the rain was more than a drizzle, but still less than a full proper rain. One could see the droplets falling to the muddied streets at least.

The entire diner was open-air. An effect of the building it was built into having been bombed out during the city's final days after the war, or as an effect of centuries of neglect and misuse. It was one of the sturdier structures in all of the ruins of Vanhoover, heavily over built from concrete, the walls were nearly as thick as a large pony, and just as solid with a skeleton of twisted steel rebar; most of which was being reused to hold a variety of coffee mugs and pans. The roof pulled over the dining area was more a shelter against the persistent elements in north-western Equestria. Even with the SPP towers restored Equestria was still clouded here. Some had hazarded it to several centuries worth of entropy gnawing at the vertigo-inducing concrete and steel spines that dotted the towers. At least one was known to have been knocked out during the Pegasi invasion ten years ago.

“It's not going to be piss again, is it?” Rusted Bits grumbled, shutting his eyes tight.

“No, I had quite enough dumping that over your head for the morning. I don't want to ask anymore Brahmin to piss into a bucket.” the blue unicorn smirked, levitating a shriveled carrot to his mouth. With a soft crunch he bit into and chewed delicately. Not really eating. More appraising it.

“No, it's clean water; or so I've been assured.” he said, “I should hope. I'm paying out good caps for this.”

“I don't feel like it. Could you give me half a day?”

“I'm afraid we don't have the time.” the unicorn sneered, “Now you're going to drink what I'm paying for or I will hold you down and force it in.”

Rusted hesitated on the sharp threat. Considering the glass of water. Grumbling he picked himself up and rose his head. He winced back at sharp searing pain as it tore through his brain. Eventually working himself up enough to shakily pick up the water and carefully drink from it. It passed his lips and dried cotton tongue, whetting them. He felt it fill his belly, and he fought to hold back the threat of vomiting. Instead only burping wetly. He still groaned at the searing pain of the rest of his external stimuli, but at least the drink had restored a little confidence in his prospects of eating.

The unicorn smiled alongside him, “Great. Keep drinking it. My employer wants you to be refreshed before you meet him.” he said invitingly, tapping his hoof on the wooden table and demanding a second glass of water.

“Your employer?” Rusted Bits said, between eyes clenched shut.

“We all work for someone in the wasteland. From top to bottom. It's all about service.” the blue stallion replied philosophically, “You're no stranger to this economic model, so why should it surprise you?”

“Because a stallion dressed as you are generally is the one being served.”

The blue stallion chuckled, grinning sardonically at Rusted. “Hardly. Though sometimes I get the pleasure. Not even my employer is the top of his chain. Keep drinking, by the way.”

“I am.” rusted croaked, taking another deep swig of the glass. “Who is your employer?”

“Just someone connected to a very large investment that we need resources to be allocated into.” the blue one sneered, “If part time.

“I'm not at liberty to discuss all the details. But I can tell you he's willing to make a large down payment on principle of you assisting us.”

“Can I back out if I don't like it?” Rusted asked.

“You could, but it would be an unwise move. But if I may ask: what would make you consider doing so?”

“I'unno. Depends.” the hungover stallion shrugged, “Can you at least tell me the job?”

“Courier. That's as far as I can go.” the blue unicorn said flatly, spreading his front hooves on the counter.

“You make being a delivery horse a shady proposition. I haven't ever been a hitman, but I didn't think this shit would come down to this sort of secrecy.”

“Oh, believe me my dear mud pony. My employer would prefer to keep it shady. He likes security.”

“I just hope his security doesn't make things look too suspicious. Some ponies get mad when things are suspicious.”

“It'll all come together.” the blue unicorn replied. Leaning back as a large plate loaded down with all varieties of piled on food was slid over to Rusted.

The caravaneer gave the plate a suspicious look. Piled in an indescribable lump were bits of red and fried green. Greasy white and caramelized browns. Alongside it was a glass of thick white milk. “The hell you order?” he asked.

“Doesn't matter. Eat it. We got a little over half an hour to go.” the blue unicorn snapped.