Fallout Equestria: I'm Sorry
Through my binoculars I spotted six ponies: five raiders and one young hot-shot who thought he could take them all on. Who knows, maybe he could. After all, when I counted the five, I hadn't included the eight corpses. Still, it couldn't hurt to even the odds in the favor of righteousness. I descended from the hill I was perched on and darted towards the fight.
By the time I got within attacking distance, one of the raiders had fallen, his head strewn across the dirt. Their young opponent, however, had taken a shot to the leg, and was forced to retreat behind cover. He would need treatment soon.
I stood up on my hind legs and drew my old fishing spear, a weapon twice as long as my own body that I had kept with me since adolescence. Only once I had lost it when it became stuck in a Yao Guai. I searched for days for it, but found nothing. A week after I had given up, I came across the bear, dead of an infection with the spear still lodged inside. I had always suspected it, but that day was proof that I had a special connection to this spear, one of those mythic connections that nothing of this world could break.
For an instant my eyes fell upon the tip, sharpened with a care beyond what I did for anything else. Just behind the tip was a red stain covering it completely for over a quarter of the way down the shaft. That stain had never faded one bit, even after every other mark for two hundred years disappeared.
"Now once more, take flight," I whispered to it. The weapon left my hoof, sailing into an unsuspecting raider's head. It passed all the way through, penetrating one of his compatriots' skulls as well. I was running right behind it. Second I caught up with it, I ripped it from the raider and stabbed it into the chest of another. I turned toward the last one, a unicorn stallion with a cutie mark of a bloody skull and crossbones. His eyes widened, and he began wildly firing at me with some kind of SMG. I ducked and cartwheeled past his bullets, then hopped over his head, driving my spear through him and into the ground. Nailed in place, he had no escape as I twisted his head two hundred and eighty degrees.
Pulling my spear out, I turned around to check on the pony they were fighting. He was staring blankly, his mouth dropped wide open. I walked up and closed it for him. Looking at his leg, I asked "Are you okay?"
"That was awesome!" he gushed, beaming at me. He was a young earth pony, perhaps nineteen or twenty, with a coat the color of dry sand and a mane like red clay. He was dressed in stylistic armor sort of resembling a cowpony. His hind legs, left exposed in the fashion of those who prioritized mobility over protection, bore a cutie mark of a gun.
I looked back around at the carnage I had caused. I suppose it was a bit flashy, but I was only going for effectiveness. "I suppose. But what about your leg?"
He looked at it and cringed. He probably hadn't noticed its severity in the adrenaline rush, a surprisingly common occurrence in battle. "It's... not ideal, at the moment..." He poked it and flinched.
"Here, let me look at it..." I took out some salve that I had made earlier. "Hold absolutely still. This may feel a bit uncomfortable." I rubbed it on the injury, and the change was instantaneous. the bullet pushed itself out, and if one looked closely, they could watch the tissues begin to repair themselves. I wrapped it up in some bandages and that was it. Fortunately, the wound hadn't hit any bones. "Just go easy on that leg for a little while."
He looked in awe at his leg. From experience, I knew the pain would already be gone by now. "Now that's cool! What is that, zebra stuff?"
I nodded. "I am a zebra. I made it myself." He hadn't been able to tell immediately because my stripes had rotted away long ago, just one of the curses thrust upon me.
"A ghoul zebra? That's pretty ironic."
"I suppose it is," I said, taking the quip in stride. His voice carried no malice, so he probably hadn't meant anything by it. "I'm sorry by the way."
"For what?"
"For this world. My people and I destroyed it, and I wish to express my sorrow over that."
He looked at me with a mixture of shock and disgust, but quickly replaced it with a smile, not even forced, "Well, things were pretty messed up on both sides back then. If you're sorry, I'm okay with it. Besides, you just saved my butt, so no hard feelings."
I bowed to him. "I thank you sincerely for this mercy. Not all have been so kind."
"It's cool, dude. But next time, don't tell ponies that kinda stuff. Zebras get a bad enough rap as it is, and telling people you were in Caesar's army will piss them off."
"I wasn't in his army, but... It's complicated. Regardless, I am the only living ghoul from the Zebra Nation. Ponies did not use balefire in their megaspells. The radiation that bore me was from a balefire missile silo which exploded when the pony megaspell Celestia One struck it. I was just close enough that I was transformed all others went feral or died. The zebras are rebuilding easily, as they have always been able to live off the land, but there is no radiation for me there. Meanwhile, the ponies never cease to suffer, yet I require this place to live. This was destiny, so I would have to come here and do penance by repairing this broken land."
He seemed shocked at first, but soon began grinning at me. "You've got the coolest backstory ever!"
I raised an eyebrow. That wasn't the reaction I'd expected. "I thank you for your understanding. Do you think you can make it back to a settlement by yourself?"
"Yeah, of course I can. But I'm not going to yet. These guys are part of something big I'm looking into." He approached a nearby corpse and started looting it. "You wanna help me? It'd be a good way to help fix up Equestria, if that's what you wanna do with yourself."
I nodded. "Very well. What would you have me do?"
"Check these guys for clues. They're working with the pirate raiders in the bay near here," he said as he rooted through a raider's saddlebags. "My name's Salsa by the way."
"I'm Kujuta," I said, examining the last raider I had killed. I had expected some chem paraphernalia or maybe pocket change, but instead this pony had been carrying four bricks of C-4 and a detonator, plus a letter with a rough map of the nearby coast town, Sunbeam Bay . An X was marked on a building in the southwest corner of the town, far from the coast, with 9:00 PM written next to it. On the northeast portion was an arrow pointing from a ship marked 9:10. The meaning was obvious: this raider was meant to cause an explosion in town as a distraction, allowing seafaring raiders to attack. It was signed "Capt. Blacktail."
"Salsa, I think I found something," I called. He darted up and snatched the letter.
He scowled as he read it. "Blacktail! I knew it. Stupid pirates, think they're so special. They're just raiders with a boat, they don't deserve a different name for it!"
I nodded. "So, what are you going to do?"
"Well, first I'm gonna warn the ponies back at Sunbeam Bay. Second, I'm gonna get a boat and go kick Blacktail's ass!"
"Very well. If you wish, I can meet you after you acquire the boat."
"Why not just come with me?"
"Sunbeam knows my history." I looked to the ground."As I said, not all accepted as you did."
"Oh... I'm sorry. You know, I could talk to them. They really should forgive you if you're sorry."
"No," I insisted. "A part of atoning for your actions is accepting the anger of others. I do not intend to die, but even if the ponies wanted to kill me, they would be within their rights to do so."
"What? No, don't say that!"
I placed a hoof on his shoulder and firmly said "If it gives them peace, then I will not hold it against them. Him that is wronged deserves vengeance, and forgiveness is his alone to give. I am afraid that since I have wronged many, there are many ponies who hold the right to vengeance over me. That is the way of my tribe, and it lives on only through me. I will not forsake it, even if it means my end."
"Well, okay then. I guess that kinda makes sense. Knowing people have a right to revenge, it keeps you good I guess. I'm sorry you have all that weight on you though."
"Don't be. Regardless, we must get back to planning. I will be watching for you around here," I pointed to a spot on the map. "Just wait at that location and fly a yellow flag. I'll come out to you. Just be ready to take me aboard and make sure to ensure your crew is prepared for the likes of me."
***
My head broke through the water, and Salsa reached out a hoof to pull me into the small dinghy he'd borrowed. "Hey Kujuta! You made it!" He pointed to an old, dirty stallion manning a steering wheel. "This is Old Salty. He's totally cool with your history and everything."
Old Salty waved to me, chewing a bit of tobacco with a mouth half full of brown teeth. "Yeah, don't worry about destroyin' the world er nothin'. We all got our share o' dirty laundry. Though in defense o' mah own wrongs, she tol' me she was sixteen."
As Old Salty spat out the tobacco onto the deck and replaced it with even more, I turned to Salsa and asked, "Where
exactly did you find this pony?"
"Behind a dumpster."
"..."
"I picked him cuz' he's so gritty. All the best sea captains are."
"Salsa, please do not perpetuate that stereotype ever again. Incidentally, I was expecting a bigger boat, not to mention a bigger crew for a battle." I knew Salsa was no pushover of course, and I myself had taken down scores of raiders alone, but still, just the three of us?
"We don't need a big crew. Blacktail's gang is supposed to be only like twenty guys. I could handle that myself, but I've seen you and you look like you could do half. I was expecting you to use one of those bat-wing potions I heard about. Did you actually swim all the way out here?"
"I prefer the water to the sky. My tribe was often said to be more fish than zebra." I looked out longingly toward the horizon, at the beautiful ocean.
Salsa must have seen my daydreaming. "Can you tell me about them? They sound pretty cool."
"We were called the Samaki... though in later days, as Caesar grew to power, they called us 'trash.'"
"Who called you that?"
"The other zebras. We were fishers, sailors, all proud of our place with the majestic ocean. We became amazingly prosperous, trading the bounty of the sea to the other tribes, and even more prosperous when we began venturing to far off shores, to the lands of the griffons and the minotaurs. When the tribes began uniting under Caesar though, other tribes lost their respect for us."
"Why? Did Caesar not like the ocean or something?"
"No. The ocean they were fine with. But there are two parts to seafaring: the ocean, and the sky. And with the sky, the stars."
Salsa nodded grimly. He knew where this was going.
"On long voyages, it was the stars that guideed us as we sailed. Any map is useless without landmarks, and at sea, the only landmark there is is the night sky. Every member of the Samaki knew the night sky as intimately as he knew the stripes of his lover. Where some saw only random lights, we saw signs and arrows guiding us back home. There is danger in the stars, to be sure, but it is no different from the sea. Unfortunately, only the Samaki understood how to reap the goodness from the stars. No one else would make the attempt."
"So they hated you for it..." Salsa said, frowning.
"Yes. We were driven out of communities, attacked in the streets, and driven into abject poverty and utter desperation because of it." My speech came trough gritted teeth. "I miss my home, but there were so many there who deserved everything they got! I hate them! Everything was their fault!" I snarled and stomped a discarded tobacco tin.
Salsa put a hoof on my shoulder. "Hey, Kuj! Calm down. It's all in the past."
I sighed. "You're right. The only guilty party left of the zebras is me. I just hope the new tribes that took their places are more understanding of their world."
"How much were left of them, anyway?"
"Just enough," I said, trying to remain detached. "Not nearly what remained of the ponies though. Instead of struggling for food as your race does, zebras had to struggle for mates. I once spent weeks searching for the ruins of a certain city, only to realize that it was completely turned to vapor. Nothing but dust for miles where there was once a city with a million lives in it. And it was far from the only city lost."
"Kuj? Can we talk about something else?" Salsa said. "I know I asked, but I don't want to think about that."
"I apologize. As you said, it is all in the past anyway. After two hundred years, my race has repopulated and its future is without question. We should worry about Sunbeam Bay now."
"Yeh won't hafta worry fer long." Old Salty said. "That's Blacktail's ship, dead ahead."
Blacktail's vessel was a large sailboat with numerous additions had been made to it, shaping the boat to vaguely resemble what a pirate ship would be expected to look like in a children's storybook. I took out my binoculars and managed to get a glimpse of one of the crew walking the deck.
"He's actually wearing an eyepatch..." I muttered, taking in his whole ridiculous pirate outfit.
"Well sure he is. He's a pirate! Might as well dress the part. Wouldn't you?" Salsa asked.
"No, no I wouldn't," I said, before remembering that I was talking to a cowboy.
It took a couple minutes to reach the ship, and fortunately we weren't seen. Salsa took out a grappling hook to climb on, but I stopped him. There was nothing wrong with grappling hooks, but the wall-walking brew I'd brought with me would be easier, and, I suspected, Salsa would think it was cooler.
"We should split up and divide their forces. Your spear needs a lot of room, so I'm thinking I take the inner rooms, you mix things up on the deck?" Salsa offered.
"That sounds good to me," I said, climbing upward as Salsa crawled into a nearby porthole.
I leapt over the railing and drew my spear. Nearby pirates noticed me immediately, but that didn't matter. It only meant they knew who would kill them. "Once more, take flight," I said to my spear for the second time that day just before I sent it to punish an idiot who was actually walking around with a fake peg leg.
The spear skewered the raider through the heart, sending him to the ground. Two raiders came at me from either side wielding cutlasses. I somersaulted forward, landing on my forelegs, then I bounced backward, driving a hind hoof into each of their temples. Another one took aim at me with a rifle, but I rolled out of the way, letting the bullet pass me and hit one of the sword users.
I charged toward the one my spear was lodged in, dodging attacks as I went. By the time I got there, three had caught up to me, only to be slashed across their faces as I pulled the spear out and swung it around at them. I cartwheeled to the side before they could retaliate, stabbing a fourth in the neck as he approached. The trio all darted away as one more threw a grenade at me. I saw it just in time and in an improvisational fluke, smacked it away with my spear, causing it to fly away and explode harmlessly.
I aimed my next spear throw at the grenadier, hitting him in the eye. I ran toward his body, the others racing me when they realized my intent. I reached him just in time to throw him over the edge before others could take the grenades themselves. One of the trio I slashed was too late to run away again, and wound up impaled. Another followed close behind with a sword, and I ducked his attack and lifted him over my back, throwing him overboard.
Two more pirates remained, both with guns. Each one ran away in opposite directions to get some distance, only for one of them to get skewered as my spear hit him. The other turned around, only to come face to face with me. His face showed only a split second of horror before I snapped his neck.
I smiled at my work, only to be nearly perforated by a stream of bullets that I was barely able to duck. A ghoul pegasus, who until now must have been in the crow's nest, strafed past me with an assault rifle battle saddle before hovering above the deck. He was one of the few ghouls I'd seen with a full mane, which was porcelain white and styled long and flat. Most of his face was covered by tinted goggles and a mask, the only exception being his muzzle, which was deteriorated all the way to the bone. "You certainly did a number on my peers, zebra. But this ends now." He spoke in an odd, echoing voice.
I noticed something on his chest: a patch bearing an insignia from a familiar old uniform. My heart instantly filled with rage at seeing it on this monster of a pony. "Where did you get that patch? A raider like you does not deserve to wear it!" I hurled my spear furiously at his chest.
It missed, sailing into a window in a cabin on the upper deck.
"Don't deserve to wear it?" He asked. "This was a part of my uniform! Now I may be driven to desperation and crime, but at my core I still am, and will always be, Lightray, last of the Wonderbolts!"
I faltered. It was no wonder the spear abandoned me. "I... I'm sorry..." I fell to my knees. I realized that I had seen that hair once before.
"'You're sorry?' My, you changed your mind quickly. Are you honestly so awed in the presence of greatness?" Lightray said, amused.
"No, it is not that. But I do recognize that our meeting is destined. Please, I ask you to abandon these raiders and work to better Equestria. In return, I shall allow you to kill me and take your revenge."
"Revenge?"
I bowed my head and confessed.
***
It was over two hundred years ago, and the Samaki tribe was rapidly fading away, most abandoning their roots and integrating themselves into the urban and suburban groups that started to develop under Caesar's reign. A few Samaki were unable to adapt though, and were driven into the sea by violence and hate. I was a part of that group, a leader among the last of the Samaki, and captain of my own ship. My crew would follow me to hell and back if needed... and that's exactly where I led them.
We were suffering horribly. The sea was generous, but it could only do so much. As a last resort, I finally decided that we had to take things from others, justifying it by saying that the Zebras forced us to the extremes of theft. We preyed on other ships, robbing them of their goods, but never killing. Then we attacked a pony vessel, intending to hold its passengers ransom for gems to sell on the black market. It was a vain, stupid thing to do. And regardless of what misfortunes brought us to it, that's what we were: vain and stupid.
It was a couple days into the hostage situation. Caesar was unable to catch us, and vain enough to refuse access to the ponies. However, Celestia's love for her subjects was stronger than her appreciation for politics. Ignoring Caesar's orders against it, she sent the Wonderbolts to rescue the captives.
"Kujuta!" My first mate and brother had called to me. "It is the ponies! They have come for us!"
"What?" I looked to the sky where my brother was pointing, and there they were. Eleven powerful, agile pegasi, darting toward us, trailing stormclouds in their wake.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw that all were carrying guns.
I had heard from radio transmission what the ponies thought of our piracy. Many of them called for our blood, and now the Wonderbolts were here to carry out those orders. I panicked, the only option I could see was to strike first. In retrospect, perhaps they just wanted to intimidate us, perhaps they were willing to negotiate, but I could not see it at the time. I threw my spear at them the second they got within range. It stabbed into the chest of a blue stallion a fire-maned mare in the center of the group, and Lightray, who was at his left.
"Soarin!" The fire-maned one had screamed.
After that, hell was unleashed.
I barely remember a thing of it. At some point I retrieved the spear from Soarin's body, but had been wounded myself. The fight was long and bloody, with the Wonderbolts taking losses but devastating my crew with their greater firepower: assault rifles verses a crossbow at the most. I dived off the boat when I realized all was lost. It was a cowardly thing, but nothing new considering the path I had been walking in the months prior. A couple sharks attacked me, but I struggled against them with my spear, surprisingly killing both before they had the chance to bite. It was the first sign I'd received that my spear was special.
I slinked away, the only survivor, eventually washing up on the shore of my homeland, where I succumbed to the diaspora that taken the rest of my tribe's identity. Nobody recognized me, and I ceased my life of crime. I became a fisherman, not as the Samaki had been, but a part of a more commercial group. It was close, but bore none of the signs of my culture.
I lived like that until the megaspells, watching the embers I had started grow until the whole world was consumed.
***
Lightray stared at me, his mouth agape. "You... You caused all of this... You murdered Soarin, you sparked the war. Everything wrong in the world is your fault!" he realized. "I... I'm not just gonna kill you..." he snarled, recognizing his right to vengeance on behalf of every soul I had affected. "I'm gonna rip you apart!" He tackled me and started beating and stomping me, grinning and foaming at the mouth. I wailed in pain, not just because I was suffering, but because I knew Lightray deserved that satisfaction.
He didn't use his guns. Such a weapon would bring death too quickly. He didn't target my head either, lest I lose consciousness. He bit me, he twisted my limbs in ways they weren't meant to go, he stomped my legs until I heard them snap, he did everything he could to sate his bottomless hunger for pain.
"I'll kill you!" he roared, "And once I finish that, I'm gonna go to that town you were trying to protect! I'll burn it to the ground! I'll slaughter them all! I'll feed their children to the sharks! All so you can go to Hell with the knowledge that I'm doing it just to hurt you! The knowledge that you made me do it! That it's all your fault!" I just barely saw his eyes behind his goggles. They had a look all ghouls knew and feared: feralness. It had been a mistake to tell him who I was: the mental shock was too much for him. I had hoped that his threats against the town might have been just to get to me, but if his mind was breaking down, there was a chance he would carry them out before losing his faculties completely.
He grabbed a plank of wood and started hitting me in the stomach with it, I just laid down and took it, too exhausted to even scream. Finally he seemed to tire and decided that it was time to finish it. He raised the plank above my head, and I stared up at it, the instrument of justice that would end my life.
Just as I was Lightray was about to bring his weapon upon me, I saw my spear somehow burst out through Lightray's neck. He fell to the ground, the shaft sticking directly into his spine. It had severed his brain stem, as good as any full decapitation.
"H-how?" I asked, looking for where it had come from.
"Hey, Kuj! You okay?" I heard Salsa's voice calling from window where I had seen my spear enter earlier. We made eye contact, and his jaw fell when he saw the extend of my wounds. The last thing I saw was him turning to make his way down to me, and then I lost consciousness.
***
It had been two days since the Blacktail Incident, and Salsa had taken me into an abandoned shack he'd found while I recovered. It had taken a lot of time and nearly all of my healing supplies, but fortunately Salsa was able to make do with it, despite his limited skills.
Now that I was healed enough to stay conscious for more than an hour or so, Salsa filled me in on the 'awesomeness' that the two of us had accomplished on the ship. During my fight, Salsa was captured quickly when he fell to a unicorn's stunning spell and was tied up, but when they took him up to the captain's quarters so Blacktail could personally question him, my spear had flown through the window and struck his bindings, freeing him. In the confusion, Salsa had grabbed my spear and attacked Blacktail with it before turning it on the other pirates. According to him, he hadn't had any experience, but still managed to kill every last one. After that, he looked out the window and saw me being attacked, and threw the spear in hopes of saving me.
"I think I can explain what happened," I said to him. "There is a legend in my tribe that says when two great warriors fight, sometimes an echo of the loser's soul imprints on the victor's weapon, and guides the weapon in future battles based on the soul's desires. I don't know how much truth there is to it, but it would explain your victory."
"Wow..." he said. "So what 'great warrior' did you beat?"
I looked down, ashamed. I supposed that perhaps Fate intervened so a true hero could slay me, rather than a fallen one like Lightray. "It is a shameful story Salsa, but you deserve to know..." I recounted the tale again as Salsa listened, dumbstruck. "I have never told anypony else this, because I knew whoever I told would strike me down. But if a pony must slay me, I would be proud for it to be you, Salsa."
He looked at me for a moment, then shook his head, saying, "You must have some huge balls to show your face in Equestria."
I prepared myself for death.
"And if there is one thing I admire in a pony, it's huge balls! Wait, that didn't come out right..."
"You aren't angry?" I asked, baffled.
"Of course not! Sure, you screwed Equestria up, but you're sorry and you've proved it! I know you have some deal with letting people take revenge, but you're a good guy now. If you ask me, that makes you unrevengeable... If that's a word. Besides, Soarin's soul thingy has been helping you fight, so I think even he's forgiven you! "
"You... you forgive me?"I was stunned. "You actually forgive me?" I had always carried such guilt and self loathing that I didn't know how to process this level of forgiveness. Some forgave me for being involved, sure, but none knew the whole story, that I wasn't just a part of the war but its origin! Yet Salsa saw past it all and simply let me be forgiven.
I had no idea how to react, so I settled for my first instinct and wrapped Salsa in an embrace, soon crying in utter joy into his shoulder. He seemed surprised at first, but soon returned the hug, stroking my back as I sobbed words of thanks in both pony and zebra, whatever thoughts of gratefulness entered my mind.
I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I have never doubted that it was the best moment of my life, that time spent just basking in the magic of forgiveness.
Author's Note
Wow, I think that was exactly 5000 words. Go me! Once again, I make a story about Salsa that isn't actually about Salsa, but if any Old Vaquero fans read this, then at least they get a little more of his character.
Naturally I'd like to say thanks to Kkat, Lauren Faust and the MLP creators, my creative team, and all you who read this.
