Same Shit, Different Wasteland

Preparation

Thomas tightened the laces of his boots and stood up. He swung his rifle over his shoulder into its sling, his SMG following moments later. As he holstered his Sequoia, he went through the list of places the ‘Twilight Society’, as they called themselves, had given him. Only one was within the city, and if his understanding of scale was correct he was looking at a cross-country trek across an area larger than the NCR to get to some of the other places. The names of some of the places hadn’t helped, either. He was sure that the map they’d shown him had a place called ‘Maripony’ on it.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised that a lot of the major population centres seemed to have names that were otherwise terrible puns. The exceptions seemed to be most of the small towns, though there were a few exceptions. Appleloosa, now that he could see it spelt, for example.

The possible location of replacement talismans were, apart from somewhere within Manehattan, an MAS warehouse in a place called Dodge Junction and the MAS Hub in what had once been the city of Canterlot. He expressed his complete and utter refusal to even step near the city, and they had agreed to that, stating that exploring the death-trap was to be a last resort.

He didn’t want to go too far outside of the city if he could help it, so he decided his best bet was the march across the city. It would easily take the least time and, if luck decided to side with him, he’d be done with this mess and on his way back to Vegas within a week.

Despite his desire to return to the closest thing he had to a home, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to leave so quickly. True, this place was more of the same, raiders and slavers and settlements struggling to survive, but that put him at ease. He knew what to do in this kind of situation, where the only justice was the kind dispensed from the barrel of a gun. That, and there was something about the raider war camp that kept him thinking.

Their level of preparedness was on par with small NCR platoons, indicating some sort of leadership. Coupled with the fact that most of their forces seemed to be raiders, this led him to believe that they could be a real threat if ignored. There was the possibility that he was looking at the world’s equivalent of the NCR, but if their actions were anything go by they were closer to the Legion. That thought worried him, the idea of a pack of fanatic zealots with magic was one that didn’t bear thinking about.

“Legion?” He turned to see Moonbeam looking at him, her eyebrows disappearing into her mane.

“Didn’t realise I said that out loud,” the man muttered. “Just something from back home,” he replied.

“Ah.” The mare nodded. “Well, I have to see if I can find a few traders, start negotiations.”

“Want help?”

Moonbeam shrugged. “You reckon you can?”

“Part of living on your own is knowing how to barter. Can’t always rely on being able to scavenge food or kill something to eat. You need something they want, or need. Medicine, for example,” he explained.

At that comment, she frowned. “I… I can’t think of anything we can really offer. I mean, we can find food, and chems, and maybe even the rare bit of tech, but what other scavenger can’t? We’re not like Arbu, able to farm radigator meat.”

“Moonbeam, you’re thinking wrong. You live in a library. Books everywhere.”

“Thomas, I can’t offer to sell the books,” Moonbeam pointed out. “Not without authorisation.”

“No, no, don’t sell the books. Sell what’s inside the books.” When she stared blankly at him, he rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you smarter than this?”

“It’s too early in the morning,” Moonbeam replied indignantly.

“Well, you said that the Library has shelves full of medical texts, right?”

“Yeah.” Moonbeam blinked. “Oh. Oooooh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’. What was that sign out the front of the Library again?” he asked, smirking.

“‘Knowledge is Power’. How did we never think of that?”

Thomas shrugged. “The more isolated a settlement, the easier it is for an outside perspective to point out the obvious.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she said carefully, not sure if he was sneakily insulting her. “And we can sell more than medical information as well. Somepony’s gonna want to know how to fix a radio, or put together a non-magical water purifier.”

“There you go,” Thomas said, slapping the mare lightly on the back. “You have your product, now you need to find a customer.”

Moonbeam deflated slightly. “Where am I gonna find somepony who wants to buy that kind of thing, though?”

“Look around, I’m sure you’ll find someone.” Thomas opened the door to the room and stepped out. “I have some business to take care of, I’ll see you later.”

“Hmm. Wait.” Moonbeam turned to the door just in time to see it closed. “Business?”

Thomas entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. As he leaned against the wall, waiting for the machine to descend, the door opened. He glanced up, seeing the little light tell him he was at the fifteenth floor. A pony, dressed in an old suit, stepped in, looking at him nervously.

As the doors closed, the stallion spoke up. “The portal to Tartarus is opened with the incantation of good intentions.”

“That is partly because that is the incantation they started with.” Thomas looked down at him. “Was that really necessary?”

“You can’t be too careful,” the stallion replied. “You have the device?”

“Yeah.” Thomas pulled the damaged Transportalponder from his duster and held it out. “Be careful, I don’t want it getting any more broken.”

“Yes, yes. Do you remember where you have to go?”

“You were all kinda vague on that last night. All you said was somewhere in the city.”

“Well, we weren’t happy with you threatening to kill one of us,” the stallion said angrily. “Anyway, an MAS delivery was disrupted because of the war. From what we’ve determined, it’s somewhere to the south, in the bay aboard a ship. We don’t know what to expect, though.”

“Sounds simple enough.” The door opened. “I’ll do what I can,” he muttered. “No promises I’ll find anything.”

“Try,” the stallion said as he pushed past.

“Ungrateful bastard,” Thomas muttered as he stepped into the lobby. He looked around, properly taking in the sights. There were a number of stores, selling anything a traveller might need. Armour, first aid, food. There were also a number of shops that didn’t make much sense, like the one that sold cheese.

Thomas did his best to ignore the stares as he walked around, but eventually it became too much. He fixed his gaze on a nearby pony, staring at her until she looked away. Then he kept on staring, making her fidget uncomfortably. “How about I stare at you for a while, see how you like it?” he asked harshly.

The pony ran away, leaving the man to shake his head. “Screw this,” he muttered, making his way towards security. “You sell ammo?” he asked as he got closer.

“Depends. We might not have what you want,” the dull red earth pony said, wearing the combat barding the rest of Tenpony’s security forces were wearing.. “Feel free to take a look though.”

True to the stallion’s words, there was a lack of both 12.7mm and 45.70-Govt. ammunition. Thomas had a way around that, though. “I’ll take the 10mm and .308 rounds. Fifty of each.” As they traded caps for bullets, he asked a question. “You got somewhere I can put ammo together?”

“Why would you need that?”

“These bullets won’t fit my guns, so I plan on taking them apart,” Thomas explained.

“Oh. We don’t have anything like that, we just get everything traded,” the earth pony said.

Thomas blinked. “I don’t suppose you can give me my caps back?”

“No refunds.”

“That’s… You are very lucky my guns aren’t loaded,” Thomas growled. “I’ve killed for less.”

“That’s nice,” the stallion said dismissively.

“You’re just making me want to strangle you, you know that?” The pony just stared at him impassively. “Fuck you.”

“Sorry, you’re not my type.”

Thomas just decided to walk away. “You got any idea where Grim Star is?” he asked.

“Why?” the earth pony asked back.

“Oh, I just need to ask him a few questions.” Thomas couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the pony’s eyes widen.

“Maybe I can help?” he asked, a little too quickly.

“Maybe you can. Or maybe I can just find your boss and ask him.”

“Please don’t go to the chief,” the pony pleaded. “Look, I’ll give you a refund, just don’t tell him.”

“Nah, I’ll keep a hold of them. I’ll figure something out. Still, if you can help…” Thomas looked around. “What do you know about the bay?” he whispered.

“The bay?” the pony asked quietly. “What about it?”

“Heard there’s some good scavenging there, a few warehouses and ships untouched. Thought I’d take a look.”

“Ah. Well, then you’d want the harbour, in the bay. The shipyard. You’ll want to be careful, there’s radigators in the water.”

“Radigators?” Thomas asked.

“Giant mutated alligators, at least three times as big as a pony. If they get close, they’ll drag you under the water and spin. If the radiation doesn’t get you, them breaking your neck will.”

“So take them out at range. Easy enough,” Thomas muttered. “Anything else?”

“Some of the warehouses are Ministry buildings, so there’d be some security. Probably turrets and robots.” The earth pony blinked. “Why are we whispering?”

“Why not?” the man asked. “Well, thanks. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for that.”

Thomas walked away, thinking about what he had said. If there were robots, he was going to need something. “Actually…” He turned around. “You got anything that can knock out a robot?”

“Pulse grenades? Yeah, we got some in.”

“How much?”

“50 caps each.”

“40 and I won’t tell your boss you tried to rip me off,” Thomas stated.

“I thought you didn’t care!” the earth pony stated.

“Oh, I can still use the ammo. But I am not gonna let you get away with this. So, 40 caps?” Thomas asked cheerily.

“Fine,” the red pony growled. “How many do you want?”

“How many do you have?”

Thomas eventually found Moonbeam seated at a table in one of Tenpony’s restaurants, digging into what looked like a steak. “Found you.”

The mare looked up from her meal. “Oh hey, Courier.”

“Any luck?” he asked, taking a seat next to her.

“Well, Helpinghoof said he wanted to send someone to get some texts, so that’s something.” She sighed, looking back at her meal. “But that’s it. I really need to find some more ponies to talk to, but there’s nopony around to sell to. All the restaurants get their meat, which we can’t provide. The stores get their stock from other caravans, so they don’t have any reason to come. The caravan that comes already brings us ammo, so I can’t use that as an argument.” Moonbeam banged her head into the table in aggravation. “What can I do?”

“Cheer up, Moonbeam,” Thomas said calmly, patting the mare on the back. “It’ll work out. You can’t just negotiate an entirely new trade route in one day. This kinda thing takes time.”

“I guess you’re right,” Moonbeam replied, looking up. “It still sucks.”

“Well, leave a note or something, get merchants who are interested to go there and say they want information.”

“They don’t know that, so I can’t.”

“Well, let it wait a bit. The place was locked down, right?” Thomas pointed out. “That means that any trade would have been postponed. I bet the DJ will make an announcement about the place being open for trade again.”

“And the sooner the better,” a pony behind the pair said suddenly. “We’ve had to start using our reserve stock.”

“I don’t recall you being a part of this conversation,” Thomas said politely, turning around to face the cream-cloured mare. “But you’re right, that means the merchants know they will have customers, know that they can make caps.”

“Sorry,” the mare said apologetically. “I couldn’t help but overhear and…”

“Don’t worry about it ma’am. It wasn’t a really private conversation anyway. Next time, though…”

“Of course. I’m Fillet, one of the cooks here,” the mare said, introducing herself. “Well, I say cook, but all we usually do is make the packaged stuff look nice.”

“Then what’s that?” Thomas asked.

“Radigator steak. One of the few things we actually cook,” she explained.

“Looks like you managed to undercook one side and overcook the other,” he noted, taking a look at the steak.

Fillet just glared at him. “And you know so much about cooking?”

“I should, spent the last twenty years away from civilisation, you learn to cook to stay sane. Well, that and hunting, first aid, lockpicking…” he listed, counting his fingers as he did. “Anyway, I know a lot more about cooking than you’d think.”

Fillet huffed and walked away. “You gonna eat something?” Moonbeam asked.

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Thomas said. “Besides, I want to get somewhere, and I want to leave as soon as possible.”

Moonbeam chewed on a mouthful of meat. “Want me to come with?”

“Aren’t you here on a trade mission?”

Moonbeam shrugged. “You said it yourself, gonna be a while before I can negotiate with any caravans. Maybe as well go and come back later, right?”

“Well, if you want.”

“Great.” The mare took another bite. “Sho,” she asked around a mouthful of meat, “whar ee ghoeen?”

“There’s a shipyard, heard that a few warehouses are still locked up.”

Moonbeam swallowed. “Okay, that’s where we’re going. Why are we going there?”

“You remember that thing I showed you?” Thomas whispered, looking around. “I found someone who might be able to fix it, but they want something that may be there.”

“So they’re sending you after something that might not be there in the hope that they could fix that thing that will take you home?” Moonbeam asked.

“It’s worth a shot,” Thomas said flatly.” And if it doesn’t work out, then I’ll just have a few more in my debt.”

Moonbeam rolled her eyes. “Again with the debt thing…”

Author's Note

Don't worry, this is going somewhere.