Fallout Equestria: A Horse With No Name

The slave pens bustled with the sounds of confusion, chaos, and cracking whips. I watched from a distance as my co-workers screamed at our products to get into a single-file line. Most of them complied and rushed to organize themselves as quickly as they could, but there were still a few that remained defiant. Despite the fact that they had already been ripped from their homes, fitted with explosive collars, and branded with drudge* marks they continued to fight. It was almost as if they thought they could free themselves, that they could escape if they just didn’t give up. Their spirits were strong and hadn’t been broken yet, but that would be remedied soon enough. By the way they so vigorously resisted, I figured my intervention was necessary. I flapped my wings and descended from my observation perch upon a low hanging cloud.

“Quit fucking around!” shouted one of my colleagues, Head Knocker. “Use the cattle prods if you have to, just get them organized and on the train!”

“Titan told us not to use those.” replied a thin green fellow named Lucky. “He says he wants the shipments strong enough to walk this time, and the prods cause too much numbing.”

“Titan doesn’t need to know that we used the cattle prods. That crimson fucker isn’t even going with us this time.  Besides, our clients in Hoofbeat aren’t that picky.”

“Boss says not to use cattle prods,” I serenely cut in. “So we wont use them, Knocker.” He angrily snorted in my direction before making a snide reply.

“Well if it isn’t Trouble Clef. I see you found some free time to harass us in between fondling colts and taking the boss up your ass.”

“Funny.” I blatantly replied. “But I wouldn’t go around challenging Titan’s authority if I were you. Business has been slow for the past few years. We’re loosing both customers and potential slaves to the New Canterlot Republic faster than the speed of light, so don’t think for a second that Titan wouldn’t slap a slave collar around your neck to turn a few caps. Plus, it would be one less mouth to feed. Cutting you out of the picture would add enough caps to our funds to purchase some ammo, and you know how important ammunition is to us right now.”

Knocker opened his mouth to reply, but shut it a second later without uttering a sound. Everything I had said was true and he knew it. With how badly things had been going lately, it was better to be safe than sorry, and being safe sometimes meant shutting your fucking mouth and doing whatever you were told.

Let me take a moment to explain why things were so bad for me and my associates.

About five years back there was this unicorn named ‘Littlepip’ that lived inside a ‘Stable’ that didn’t open when all the other ones did. She managed to escape one day in search of her friend who had broken out as well. Her quest was innocent at first, but her simple mission to bring her lost companion home turned into a bloody conflict that painted the Wasteland red for two months. This little mare went from place to place slaughtering bandits, raiders, and slavers alike. I don’t have the slightest idea what her problem was. Sure, killing raiders and thugs was a good thing. It increased safety along trade routes and decreased the chances of attacks at slave auctions.

But killing slavers?

The common misconception throughout the Wasteland is that slavers are just like any other thug you’d encounter while traveling. That isn’t true in the slightest. Don’t get me wrong, we were bad ponies, but to group us into the same categories as lowly pickpockets and sadistic murderers jacked up on chems was wrong. Slavers are honest business ponies trying to make a living in this world by trading living skin for caps. Did we spill blood, did we ruin lives, did we do other horrible things? Yes, but who out here can say that they haven’t done anything of that sort? We did what we had to do to survive, to support ourselves and the others we chose to associate ourselves with. In most cases, that includes companions, friends, spouses, and children. Knocker himself had a wife and son to take care of, and I wasn’t one to judge the stallion on his choice in occupation.

Anyway, this little mare’s crusade abruptly ended one day. She had managed to fight in, and survive, a massive encounter with two armies that had risen up to challenge her. I’m not sure about all the details, unfortunately I wasn’t there. All I know is that after killing a whole slew of ponies she up and disappeared, vanished into thin air. Whatever she did, caused a whole lot of trouble for me and anypony else who shared my profession.

Not only did she kill hundreds of slavers throughout the waste, but she also managed to set up a new society that protected individuals from such a practice. It was named the ‘New Canterlot Republic,’ or NCR for short. This new government was a symbol that the world was changing, healing, returning to the way it was two hundred years ago before the bombs fell. It was good for some, but bad for others. Others meaning me.

The NCR offered guidance, education, and security. Ponies from everywhere flocked to the NCR in hopes of starting a new life, free from the cruelty of the Wasteland. With so many folks entering the protection of this new administration, my business had been slowed to a crawl. Buyers, sellers, and products in general were harder to come by. All of them had abandoned their old way of life in exchange for the comfort and community that the NCR offered. The only reason anypony stayed away from this new establishment was if they were outlaws. The NCR was no place for uncivilized ponies, so anyone who didn’t live up to their standards or obey their laws was not allowed to join. I had no love for the NCR, but I respected what they were trying to do. They wanted to make the world a better place, and I admired that. Even if it meant my purse was a little lighter and I had to tighten my belt a few knots more to keep the feeling of hunger away.

I don’t know if it was the work of NCR, Littlepip, or Celestia herself but even after all of this change, the world continued to transform before my very eyes. Even after that young unicorn disappeared, her legacy continued to work wonders in both how ponies lived, and how the world lived.

The thick clouds that had formed in the sky after the war  had managed to block out the sun’s light for over two centuries, but by some miracle they had begun to dissipate. The golden beams of light that radiated from Celestia’s Star sparked something inside the citizens of the waste, and that spark turned into a great flame that spread like wildfire. Bands of ‘heroes’ rose up to cleanse the waste of it’s vice, to bring civilization back to the scorched earth. They were just like Littlepip, clever, brave, and relentless in their quest to rid the world of horrible folks such as myself.

They posed a threat to my establishment, my friends, and my very way of life. The danger was as real to me as it was to Knocker, Lucky, and any other slaver who worked alongside me, including Titan. They had put us all on edge as of recent due to their increasing numbers and zeal. Slowly, they had begun to spread out across the land, killing off the scum of the earth and claiming more territory for the NCR. They were one of the few aspects of the New Canterlot Republic that I despised. Especially because they were vigilantes and didn’t directly work for the NCR’s government.

Now, here we were. Weak, scared, and fearing the possibility of death upon waking every morning to the sound of gunfire outside our settlement. Life had taken a turn for the worse, and the only thing that kept us going was the promise of a hoof full of caps and a mouthful of gruel that Titan offered us every day for our work. Life wasn’t as good as it used to be, but we just had to adapt and move forward. Just like those ponies so may years ago who had to find a way to survive in this unforgiving world we now inhabit today.

But anyway, I best get back to the story…

I took one last look at Knocker to make sure he wouldn’t say anything else before turning my attention towards Lucky.

“Don’t use the cattle prods.” I said loud enough for everypony in the pen to hear, including the slaves. “If any of them continue to resist, you have my permission to shoot them.”

Sure enough, my strategy worked and the remaining slaves who refused to comply instantly settled down and slowly took their place amongst the rest of our products. I shot knocker a mischievous smile before turning my back on him and heading for my private passenger car.

“Ya’ see Knocker, you don’t need to be so brutal with these fine folks. Sometimes it is better to be vocal than physical. You’d do well to remember that.”

As I reached the steel door that opened to my cart, I turned around to take one last look at the slaves before they were herded into the train cars specifically fitted for them. They were all lined up in a single, neat line ranging from tallest to shortest. A stallion made of skin and bone stood at the front, his shackles coated in blood from too much chafing and resistance. At the other end slouched a young filly who looked so frail, I was afraid she might actually faint dead away on the spot.

“No wonder the boss wants us to be careful with this shipment, they’re all a horrible bunch! Well, except for that one brown mare whose…

…whose standing out of line, staring down the barrel of Lucky’s forty-four magnum revolver!”

That wasn’t a sight I expected to see! I assumed that my words had been enough to persuade everypony to comply, apparently I was mistaken. This brown mare stood as tall and proud as the Canterlot Mountains themselves. Her eyes were narrowed and seemed to stare deep into Lucky’s soul. Despite the threat of death she remained defiant, as if the end of everything she knew didn’t scare her in the slightest. To put it lightly, I was amused.

“You deaf, girl?” shouted knocker as her trotted up to the mare, raising his own pistol to her head. “You best get in line before one of us buries your skull fragments in a thousand different places!” The mare didn’t respond. All she did was turn her head, and glare at Knocker with eyes as sharp as cosmic knives. There was no fear in them, all I saw was a fire that burned with a passion unlike any other.

“We’re not warning you again, slave. Get back in line or we’ll splatter your brains to the wind.” Lucky’s threat was made even more conniving as he pulled the hammer back on his revolver. The mare took one last menacing look at Lucky before finally stepping down and moving to get in line with the others.

I was a little disappointed. It would’ve been interesting to see how things would’ve went down if the mare had continued her standoff with the two toughest gunslingers in my gang. Maybe she would’ve made a move for one of their guns, or even tried to take them on with her bare hooves.

“She’ll probably give us some trouble as we’re unloading her later.” I murmured to myself as I entered my private train car and laid down on my makeshift bed. “Well, all that trouble will be worth it once we auction her off. Strong mare like her will fetch me quite a pretty penny.”

I closed my eyes after hearing the sound of the slave car doors slamming shut. Music to my ears! Slowly, the train started to move forward and lull me to sleep with its gentle rocking motion. As I drifted off I thought back to my last words with Knocker. Maybe it was not my place to threaten the poor guy with slavery, even if he had been out of line. He was probably on edge and didn’t mean any harm by what he said.

I hoped that was the case and that it wouldn’t happen again. If he did end up disobeying Titan, he could end up with over ninety-nine problems, and only one way to solving them. That one solution would be putting a bullet in his own head and sparing himself and his family all the misery Titan would bestow upon them……

… you know, maybe we weren’t so different from raiders after all…..

….

….

…. I couldn’t think on that anymore, I needed some sleep. It was gonna be a busy day at Hoofbeat, and I’d need all the strength I could get if I wanted to sell as many slaves as I could.