Same Shit, Different Wasteland

History

“Okay, Courier, now what?”

“They’re scared. They don’t know what else we might do.”

“So, you plan on letting them stew in their own paranoia?” The Elder shook her head. “Unacceptable, we need to retake Dodge as soon as possible.”

“I never said anything about letting them stew.” Thomas got up from his seat in the little dining room-turned-council chamber and started pacing. “They have the upper hand in both tech and numbers. If you want to take back your home, we need to cripple them.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jacket Potato asked, his helmeted head bobbing.

“Our doctors are not carving up another pony to turn him into a living bomb,” Elder Cherry Blossom said, cutting the man off. “Any more damage to the town is unacceptable.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest doing it again. Besides, just how much did they stuff inside the guy?” he questioned. “I’ve seen mortars with smaller explosions.”

“Where the hell have you seen mortars?” Baked Potato asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” the man said dismissively.

“Do I have to be here?” Moonbeam asked quietly. Never before had the mare felt so out of place, surrounded by figures in power armour that weren’t trying to kill her and ponies in dusty, century-old robes looking at her with a mix of curiosity and disdain.

“Yes,” Thomas said. “The last time we split up you got abducted.”

“Anyway,” one of the Scribes said loudly, “what are you going to suggest?”

“It involves the water supply.”

The Scribes turned to each other and started muttering. “What do you mean?” Baked Potato asked.

“We can rely on them needing water,” the man pointed out.

“Depriving them of water is gonna be out of the question,” one of the Scribes said loudly.

“Okay. And you are?”

“Taffy,” the mare replied, brushing her salt-and-pepper mane out of her eyes. “I was the one in charge of the water purifier.”

“Then you’re who I need to talk to.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Moonbeam asked the room at large.

“Considering your last idea, this one isn’t that bad.”

“What was wrong with my last idea?” the man asked as they left the room.

“It was the kind of thing I’d expect a raider to come up with,” the mare shot back. “And why did you take all their cutie marks?”

Thomas sighed. “I guess it’s part of my upbringing. A… tradition, I guess.”

“Oh?” Moonbeam nodded her thanks when he held the door open for her.

“Yeah,” the man replied as he stepped outside. “We weren’t exactly tribal, but we were definitely a bit more savage. When the NCR came, we knew better than to fight a group better armed so we sorta accepted things. Didn’t hurt that things were a lot quieter after they showed up, didn’t have to fight off other villages trying to raid us for supplies. And we could do a bit of trading, mostly leather.”

“You mentioned them before, didn’t you, the ‘En-See-Ar’. What are they?”

“New California Republic. As far as I know, the only post-War country along the entire west coast. Pretty big too, last time I checked a map. Basically, our little town decided to sign up for protection. We had to pay taxes, but seeing we didn’t need to spend as much repairing the buildings, it evened out.”

“That… sounds like a protection racket.”

The man couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I guess it does, doesn’t it? But we also got help from the Followers of the Apocalypse, helped us get a few crops growing, taught us some first aid, even taught some of us to read and write.”

“Why would they call themselves that?” Moonbeam asked. “Seems… contrary.”

“I asked about that. Something about following in the wake of the apocalypse and trying to undo the damage, restoring lost knowledge. Not that it really matters much,” the man added with a shrug. “Couldn’t change everything about us.”

“How does this tie in to the whole ‘skinning ponies’ thing?”

“Basically, when we killed something, we had to bring back some proof, something that was definitely from what we had just killed. Usually, that meant pelts, stingers, teeth… When a few NCR bounties came in, we started bringing back scalps and hands. They didn’t like that, but it didn’t stop us.”

“That’s… kinda messed up,” Moonbeam noted, sticking out her tongue in disgust.

“When you grow up with it, it’s completely normal,” the man replied with a shrug. “Hell, one bounty I took a few months back needed heads as proof of death. And that was a member of the NCR military asking for them.”

Moonbeam snorted. “No wonder you were fine with turning somepony into a walking bomb.”

“That was something I picked up from raiders,” Thomas admitted. “Met a group that would capture travellers, slap bomb collars on them and watch them run. They didn’t find it so funny when I returned the favour,” the man said, chuckling darkly.

“Great, I make friends with an alien and he’s a fucking lunatic…” she muttered, putting a bit more distance between them.

“We’re all a little crazy, Moonbeam. It’s called being normal.” Thomas laughed again. “Besides, one of the doctors seemed a little too happy with my suggestion. Strap someone onto a table and I bet she’d be happy to show him his insides.”

“Great. Remind me to stay away from wherever the doctors live.”

With nothing to do for a few hours, Thomas and Moonbeam had decided to take to weapon maintenance. The man had to teach the pony how to go about it, having to learn himself how to properly clean a battle saddle. They both looked up when a pony pushed open the flap of their tent.

“Howdy ma’am.”

“Zombie!”

Thomas turned to glare at Moonbeam, who had scooted back as far as possible. “Sorry about my friend, she was dropped on her head as a foal.”

“Hey!”

“It’s okay,” the ghoul replied, smiling sadly. “Guess I’m a little too used to this kind of treatment.”

Thomas sighed. “That’s just not right.”

The ghoul’s smile became a happy one. “Nice to meet someone who cares.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Ghouls are just like us smoothskins,” he replied, using the derogatory term neutrally. “Everything that matters is still there.” Thomas looked over the ghoul, taking in the important features. All that was left of her mane and tail were strands of crimson hair, and there were only scarce patches of her pale yellow coat remaining.

“How can you be so friendly to that?” Moonbeam hissed angrily.

“Moonbeam, you keep this up, I’ll kick you out. Now apologise.”

“What!? Why!?”

“Because a ghoul is just the same as any other person. They got dealt a bad hand, and they are making the most of it,” the man replied angrily. “I don’t care if you don’t like ghouls, but treat them with some respect. Okay?”

“Okay, okay!” the mare said hurriedly, not wanting to make the man any angrier. “I’m sorry!”

Thomas turned away and back to the ghoul. “What are you here to see us for, ma’am?”

“I just wanted to give my thanks for helping the Rangers take back Dodge Junction,” the ghoul replied, slowly lying down. “I must say, you weren’t what I was expecting, though, from what the radio said. I was expecting something a bit more fearsome.”

“You’re looking at the mastermind behind the ‘turn a pony into a walking bomb’ plan here,” Moonbeam pointed out.

“Oh, that’s nothing. We had plans to turn the town into an irradiated crater if the zebras ever showed up,” the ghoul replied. “Thank Celestia it never came to that. I just hope we don’t need to go through with it now.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, we’re making sure it won’t come to that.” Thomas put the battle saddle down. “I never got your name.”

“I must be forgetting my manners in my old age,” the ghoul muttered to herself. “Cherry Jubilee, darling. I was the boss before the war, and the ponies still treat me like I am. I know the area, so the Rangers and townsfolk listen to me and the other workers.”

“You mean there are more of you?” Moonbeam asked.

“I’m not sure I like your tone, young lady,” Cherry Jubilee said, turning to glare at the other mare. “I can get the Rangers to escort you off of my property if you don’t start showing some respect.”

“What!?”

“Moonbeam, how about I tie your mouth shut?” Thomas offered. “That way, you don’t have to worry about saying anything stupid.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I offered, but my brain didn’t want to go along with it,” the man replied with a shrug. “What?”

“I… You know what? Fuck it, I don’t want to know,” Moonbeam muttered, turning back to her gun.

“That sounds like an interesting story,” Cherry Jubilee noted, putting a rotting hoof to her mouth to try and hide her amusement.

“Yeah, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“That’s a shame. The ponies here need something to keep them distracted and a story like that would go a long way,” the ghoul pointed out.

“I guess. How did you plan on destroying Dodge?” Thomas asked, trying to change the subject.

“Back before the war, the town was called Dodge Junction. When the MAS and MWT started doing things, we managed to… coerce a few ponies. We gave them bits, and they supplied us with the knowledge and materials to create a small balefire megaspell.”

Moonbeam had unfortunately chosen to take a drink a few moments earlier. “A WHAT!?” she asked after she sprayed Thomas with water and spit. “Are you insane!?”

“That sounds like the stupidest idea ever,” Thomas said, taking a moment to recover. He wasn’t entirely sure just what was meant by the word ‘megaspell’, but it being used in the same sentence as ‘balefire’ was enough to tell him that it wasn’t a good thing. “How did you even afford that?”

“Before the war, I was the richest businessmare in the area. I had stocks in Ironshod Firearms, Stable-Tec, Robronco, Splendid Valley Mining… every major company, really. That’s not counting just how much I made myself. It wasn’t that hard to grease a few hooves and get what we needed.” Thomas couldn’t help but draw a few parallels between her and Robert House.

Cherry Jubilee sighed. “We were desperate and scared. Everypony was. It was a miracle we were able to hide what we were doing from the Ministry of Morale.”

“So… what happened to the megaspell?” Moonbeam asked.

“We stored it here, on the ranch. Of course, we used the same cellar as a bunker when the megaspells started going off. Dodge Junction didn’t even get hit, but there was enough radiation to make sure we stayed inside for a few months.” The ghoul chuckled ruefully. “We never thought to use our geiger counters inside.”

“That’s why you’re all ghouls, then?” Moonbeam asked.

“Reminds me of Necropolis,” Thomas muttered.

“It’s not so bad, though,” Cherry Jubilee said. “Maybe one day the ground will get fertile enough to start growing things again. And I’ll be able to see it happen.”

“So… you still have it? The bomb?”

“We have the shell. The unicorns that made it didn’t do it right, and we ended up with a bomb that leaked balefire radiation constantly. The cellar is lethal to non-ghouls, though. It’s also why nothing grows here anymore. The radiation turned the soil barren,” she explained. “Ironic, really. I tried to save everypony and killed us all instead.”

“Life has a funny way of turning out like that,” Thomas agreed sadly. “The harder you try to protect someone, the easier they get ripped away from you.”

“I didn’t actually lose anypony,” Cherry Jubilee said carefully. “We all died, but we became ghouls instead.”

“None of them turned feral, did they?” Moonbeam asked suddenly.

The ghoul rolled her eyes. “Do you really think the Rangers would have brought everypony here if there were ferals? Young lady, I will tan your hide if you keep this up,” she added sternly.

The unicorn started stammering, not knowing what to say in response to this threat. “Moonbeam, seriously, just… shut up. You’re making yourself look about as smart as a chem addict who tried snorting dog shit.”

“Sorry for raising a legitimate concern!” Moonbeam yelled defensively.

“Except it wasn’t,” Thomas pointed out. “You’re just being a bigoted bitch.”

“Why do you even care?”

“When you grow up in a place that people consider almost tribal, you get looked down on by everyone when you go to a proper town,” he explained. “You’re dressed a little differently, you don’t know how something works. They see that, and they use that. Make you feel stupid, make you feel unwelcomed. Got arrested more than a few times for punching those idiots...”

“Courier Six?” The three turned to see a Ranger Scribe in dusty red robes poking his head in. “We need to discuss a few things with you.”

“Right.” The man stood up. “Moonbeam…”

“All right, all right, I’ll try and be polite.”

“No,” he replied, “don’t try. Just do it.”

The man left, leaving Moonbeam with Cherry Jubilee. “Umm…” the unicorn said uncomfortably.

The ghoul sighed. “I’ll leave, if you want.” She slowly got onto her hooves. “I don’t exactly have any reason to stay here and - ”

“No!” Moonbeam yelled suddenly. “No, don’t. I - I’m sorry, really. Everything I’ve heard about ghouls is that they just want to kill and eat you, that they’re just animals,” she explained awkwardly. “Never actually met a friendly ghoul before. Only ran into ferals.”

“That doesn’t justify your behaviour,” Jubilee replied flatly.

“I…” Moonbeam sighed. “I get that. It’s just hard to try and forget everything I’ve been taught my whole life.”

“I can relate,” the ghoul said with a smile. “Before the war, I had ties with more than a few companies in the zebra empire. After war was declared, I had to sever all of those ties or get branded a traitor. It didn’t feel right, betraying friends I had made. I knew that zebras were decent folk, and seeing the propaganda that Ministry of Image pumped out…” Her brow furrowed at the memories. “‘Better Wiped than Striped’. What a load of complete shit,” she spat.

“Umm…” Moonbeam was a little alarmed at how quickly the ghoul’s mood had changed. “I’m… sorry?”

“Don’t apologise unless you’re responsible for that… that shit they shoved down the throats of every foal,” Jubilee relied harshly. “I remember foals, couldn’t be older than seven, boasting that they were going to go fight the ‘evil’ zebras.” She snorted angrily. “It wasn’t the zebras that were evil, though.”

“Uhh…” Moonbeam was at a complete loss for words.

Jubilee let out a dry laugh. “Sorry, dear. Sometimes thinking about the past brings back bitter thoughts.”

“Okay,” the unicorn replied carefully, the ghoul’s actions not doing much to change her views.

Author's Note

Backstory, ho!