Same Shit, Different Wasteland

Bending Steel

Moonbeam could only sit and watch in awe as the man expertly and easily stripped down her gun into its components and cleaned every single one. He threw away what was too damaged to use, used spare pieces from the small pile of random parts, and even managed to use parts from completely different weapons.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

“Honestly?” Thomas asked, his mood having brightened with something to help distract him. “I’m not exactly sure. I can just make it work,” he replied, smirking. “Like magic.”

“So, that’s your special talent, fixing things?” the pony asked.

“Who says I only have one talent?” he asked back. He picked up an empty magazine and slotted it into place before throwing it back at the mare. “There. Should be good for a week.”

“Only a week?” Moonbeam asked, sliding the gun into its holster.

“Regular weapon maintenance,” Thomas answered. “The more often you do that, the better shape it’ll be in.”

“Like I have time for that,” Moonbeam scoffed, laying down to get to sleep.

Thomas did the same, but not before one last parting shot. “Well, don’t blame me when raiders are using you as a fuck toy.”

The mare blinked and let out a small whimper. She would not be sleeping tonight, not with those mental images.

It was a bright a morning as one could expect in Manehattan. The area around the Library was quiet, raider activity non-existent thanks to the vigil of those on guard. If there was anyone to watch, they would see the doors to the Library open, a pony and a biped walking out. If they looked closely, they would have noticed the strange way the biped walked, as though he was in pain.

“You did not have to punch me in the gut,” Thomas complained.

“Hey, you gave me nightmares,” Moonbeam retorted angrily.

“Not my fault you’re easily scared,” he muttered in response.

The mare decided to ignore him as she walked down the stairs. “Look, it’ll take at least five hours to get there, and that’s if there’s nothing stopping us.”

“Raiders?”

“If we’re lucky,” the mare answered grimly.

“What, killer robots?” Thomas asked.

“The quickest path there takes us a little too close to manticore territory,” Moonbeam explained as she led him towards the building they had come through the day before. “If we’re careful, it shouldn’t be a problem. We get too close...” She trailed off uneasily. “It won’t be pretty.”

“So why don’t we go another way?”

Moonbeam sighed. “Why do you think those raiders were chasing me yesterday? There’s a damn base in the way, inside an old office building. Only found out when I walked past it and one of them took a potshot at me.”

“Let me guess,” Thomas cut in. “You fired back, got lucky, and pissed off the entire gang.” He looked at her.

“Something like that...” she muttered.

“It happens. Folks don’t usually survive, though,” he pointed out. “You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Thanks?” Moonbeam asked, unable to tell if he was being polite or snide. “Anyway, every other path would take too long.”

“So, we either walk past the territory of animals that could tear us apart, or try and almost certainly fail to sneak past a raider base. And we have to do that twice.” The mare nodded. “And we’re going there to pick something up and bring it back,” the Courier added.

“You said you’re the Courier,” Moonbeam shot back. “This shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Usually I’d be bringing a lot more firepower and someone I can trust in a fight.”

“Hey!” the mare shouted. “What does that mean?”

“Can you shoot someone between the eyes from half a mile away? Or punch someone so hard it rips their arm from its socket?” he asked, recalling some of the things his past travelling companions had done. “That’s what I mean, someone I don’t have to babysit. It’s not that I don’t trust you as a person, well, pony, but you haven’t given me any proof that you can really defend yourself. Until you do, you’re a liability.”

Moonbeam was flabbergasted. Part of her wanted to hit him again, but she knew that he had a point. All he had seen was her needing help. Well, she had to change that.

“Still, five hours, not that bad. I’m guessing we’ll be camping there for the night?” the Courier asked, pulling his lever-action off of his back.

“Probably. Definitely safer than trying to walk through the city in the middle of the night.”

“Bloodwings?”

“Raiders, too.”

The unlikely pair progressed in silence for a few hours. To their mutual relief nothing exciting happened during that time.

“What’s the deal with the alicorns?” Thomas asked, breaking the silence as he helped pull Moonbeam up a particularly steep pile of rubble.

“No idea,” she panted. “Thanks. I’ve heard them mention things about ‘Unity’ before, but I’ve never stuck around to listen. They don’t do good things to unicorns, apparently.”

Thomas just stared forward blankly. ‘Unity’? It was like this entire universe wasn’t even trying. He knew where the West Coast Super Mutants had come from, exposure to Forced Evolutionary Virus and some sick cult called ‘The Unity’ led by someone only known as the Master. Surely these alicorns didn’t have a similar leader and similar origins. Surely?

“Crap,” the mare muttered. “Get down.”

“What?”

“Rangers.” She pointed and he followed her gaze. There were three ponies, wearing that T-45d knock-off he had seen on that poster. They were looking in the other direction, allowing the pair to make a run for the nearest cover, a slab of an old billboard that had fallen down decades ago.

“Idiots in power armour, so what?” Thomas whispered.

“They have missile launchers and miniguns,” Moonbeam retorted. “I don’t think your barding can save you.”

As much as he wanted to argue, he knew the pony had a point. 5mm rounds had a habit of ripping through everything, and his only saving grace against missiles was his agility. Wouldn’t be much good if he couldn’t move in the first place, though. “So what are we gonna do?”

“Sit here and wait for them to leave.”

“What if they don’t?”

Moonbeam looked around uneasily. “Hopefully I can talk to them, get them to leave. If I can’t...”

“We know you’re there,” a loud, slightly tinny voice sounded suddenly. “Come out slowly.”

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Moonbeam moaned. “Stay put, I’ll try and deal with this.” She took a deep breath and stepped out, leaving the man alone. “My friend can’t move, he’s injured.”

“Really?” one of the Rangers asked. One didn’t have to see his face to know he didn’t believe her. Thomas put his rifle stock against his shoulder, ready to fire if one of those idiots came too close.

“You expect us to believe that?” another Ranger asked, this one clearly female. “For all we know, your ‘friend’ is sitting there with an anti-machine rifle waiting for us to turn our backs.”

Thomas couldn’t help but admit that they weren’t far from the truth. Not that he would shoot them in the back, mind you, he had more dignity than that.

Moonbeam let out a sudden squeak. “We know you can hear us!” the female Ranger said loudly. “You either come out, or your friend pays!”

Thomas gritted his teeth and let out an angry sigh. Of course. They looked like they were from the Brotherhood of Steel, it only made sense that they would act like them as well. He had heard a few horror stories of them acting this way before the NCR became so big. And God help you should your caravan have energy weapons.... “All right!” he yelled, shoving his rifle back into its sling. “I’m coming out! Just let her go!”

As he stepped out, he was glad that he had kept his helmet on. Otherwise they would have seen his murderous expression and burning eyes and assumed he was hostile. “What the hell are you?” one of them asked.

“The Courier,” he responded, smiling with satisfaction as the ponies in power armour backed away. “I said let her go,” he growled, pointing a finger at Moonbeam and the pony holding her with magic.

The pony’s horn stopped glowing and Moonbeam stumbled as she rushed to Thomas’ side. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“No problem,” he replied. “So,” he said louder, looking between the three Rangers, “why did you do that?”

“Do what?” the mare that had been holding Moonbeam, and the only one with a horn poking out of her helmet, asked.

“Threatening her. Does that make you feel big or something?” Thomas asked.

“We didn’t want to get attacked by you,” the horned one replied. Thomas guessed she was the leader.

“So that gave you the right to do that?”

“We don’t have to listen to anything you say, you damn mutant!” one of the other Rangers said suddenly.

“Hey, he’s got a Pip-Buck!”

“A what?” Thomas looked at where the third Ranger was pointing, his left arm. “Oh no, you are not getting my Pip-Boy.”

“I think that’s for us to decide,” the leader said.

“No, I’m the one wearing it, so it’s my choice.” Thomas felt very much like ripping off his helmet and spitting at the mare.

“You really think that?”

“You do not want to make me angry,” Thomas growled, stepping forwards himself. He didn’t care that they wore power armour, or had missiles launchers. They were threatening him with harm. No-one got away with that. “The last guy to do that, I ripped off his face.”

That made the mare back down. “W-what!?”

“Yeah. But you and your little Ranger buddies, I ain’t gonna be that merciful. So either walk away, or spend the next half hour begging for me to kill you.” He stepped forwards again and leaned down, putting his eyes level with hers.

The mare decided that was the moment to grow some backbone. “I am Crusader Strawberry Shortcake!” she boasted. “You will not - ”

The Courier burst into laughter as he stood back upright again. “I’m sorry, what? Did your parents really hate you or something?” He turned around as he put a hand to his face. “Strawberry Shortcake? I have fucked prostitutes with more dignified names, and one of them was called Pussy!” Thomas kept on laughing.

Moonbeam just gaped at her bipedal companion. He had to be insane. He was just laughing at three of the most heavily-armed, well-trained and above-all ruthless ponies in Manehattan. He had just insulted the leader of this trio. “I have nothing to do with him, I swear,” she pleaded as she backed away from the insane man.

“You think you can get away with insulting me!?” Shortcake asked. Her battle-saddle missile launcher whirred into life, the loading mechanism slotting a missile into place.

Thomas spun around, his giant revolver aimed square between her eyes. “You run around, hoarding technology, taking it away from the ‘savages’ who might hurt themselves. You’re worse than raiders, because at least raiders have the decency to wear nothing that normal ammo can’t punch through.” He cocked the hammer. “That’s all you bastards are, highly-organised, highly-trained, technology-worshipping raiders. You want to take my Pip-Boy? You’re welcome to try,” he told them. “But the path I’ve walked is paved with the corpses of everyone stupid enough to get in my way. And the last time three idiots in power armour tried to threaten me?” He began to chuckle darkly. “Well, let’s just say that it was messy. Really messy.”

The two male Rangers looked at each other before silently agreeing to back away slowly. This went unnoticed by the Crusader. “Really?” she asked. “Do you really think attacking a Steel Ranger is a good idea?”

“Do you think threatening someone who ended an empire is a good idea?” he countered. “If you want to walk away alive, you should leave while you have the chance. If you don’t do that, I’ll break your legs, snap off your horn and drag you to the nearest raider camp. I’m sure they’ll appreciate their new toy.”

The Rangers weren’t the only ones backing away now. Moonbeam was terrified. While before the Courier seemed friendly and jovial, now he gave off an aura of malice and sadism. He sounded as though he would enjoy committing those atrocities. He sounded like a raider.

“So, I’ll give you one more chance. RUN.” The Courier laughed like a maniac as Crusader Shortcake turned tail and ran away as fast as her power-armoured hooves could carry her, crashing into the other Rangers in her rush.

Thomas turned around, satisfied with himself. “That was fun,” he said happily, all the malice in his voice gone. “And I didn’t even have to hurt anyone.”

“You’re crazy,” Moonbeam said suddenly.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied lazily. Only after answering her did he realise that she had her gun pointed at his face.

“Stay away from me,” she commanded, doing her very best to keep her voice calm. “I made a mistake, bringing you to the Library. You’re a monster.”

“Is this about what I said to those three?” he asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the still-fleeing Rangers. “That was an act. Stopped us fighting, saved us ammo, scared them away. No-one got shot. That’s all I intended to do.”

The SMG pointed lower. “So... you lied?”

“No, I did do all those things,” Thomas admitted. “But they all deserved it.”

“You said you ripped off someone’s face!” the mare yelled back, sounding sick.

“He was in charge of an entire warband of rapists, slavers and murderers,” he calmly replied. “Believe me when I say that he should have suffered worse.”

Moonbeam uneasily holstered her gun. “I still don’t trust you,” she stated, “but I need you. Let’s get going. We’ve still got manticore territory to get through.”

Author's Note

Thomas got nothing but Terrifying Presence speech options.