Fallout Equestria: SIDEQUEST

So like that I was saying time to shake shit up. I decided then and there that I would rise on a pile of corpses and drown Equestria in an ocean of blood. I grinned to myself as I watched the two mares that were my companions.

        ‘You’re crazy.’

        “Soo... Going to do what now?”

        “Get the bullets out of my head. Then we’re going to change things. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Come out here, solve a mystery or two, rack up an impressive killcount, and save Equestria?”

I know a way to stop this, but I don’t think that it’s right.

        They were both startled by my sudden manic energy, by this bad sign my head wasn’t screwed on right. I wasn’t quite bouncing circles around them, but I was certainly pacing.

        “I think we need to find your father, quickly, Spanner. And maybe an addiction specialist, I think.. something bad is happening. I’ve seen your chem usage habits enough to know that you use too many, too large of doses.”

        I was beginning to suspect they were talking behind my back. Whatever. Not a problem. Let them talk! I lead them in the direction of my arrow, ignoring the blood dripping down my face from.. Somewhere. My eyes? Was I up to crying blood now? Nosebleed? Didn’t matter... Had stuff to do.

        Before long, we’d reached a wall of stacked vehicles. There was a gap, with a colt standing on guard peering out over them. Earth pony. Blue cape. Patch with a rampant earth filly. No cutie mark. Some sort of helmet, and of course he had a gun. And of course his first reaction was to shoot me. I was lucky the coat was bulletproof...

        “OI! The fuck do you think you’re doing? Try it again and I’ll end yah, colt!”

        “Get used to it, filly, this is my fucking town and y’looked sketchy.”

        I cleared my throat and shook my head a little. “What? your head on straight? I’m looking for somepony.” I wiped blood from my face and thought up a quick lie. “My bruther. He ran away, told me he was gonna live with the Crusaders, couldn’t take quiet life in Riverside no more...”

        He seemed to buy what I was selling. “Okay. You can come in to look. We’ll kick your ass if you try something though, and blank flanks only!”

        I rolled my eyes inwardly and improvised, my voice turning flat. “The pegasus is my slave, and the ghoul’s a pet. I don’t go nowhere without them. One hundred caps and a Sparkle-Cola for both of them says they come with?”

        He appeared to think over my offer, then nodded. He spat on his hoof and stuck it out, and I suppressed a shudder at his filthy mud pony ways. I just paid him and brushed past him, careful not to touch him.

        “You thought quickly, Spanner.”

        “I think clearer and faster with mints.” I snapped, grumbling a little bit as I looked around, Magenta sighing and falling into line behind me as I lead our little party into the caves. I stopped at what was labeled the infirmary, my arrow blinking somewhere inside.

“Ditzy, you see if there’s somepony we can trade with here.. Try for parts, I doubt there’s anything else they’d part with too cheaply. Magenta... Go entertain yourself and try to stay out of trouble. I’m going to go have a talk with my dad.”

They both nodded and left, Magenta striking up conversation with a colt and trying to learn all about the Crusaders by sound of it. I smiled and turned to enter the little building. “Dad?”

I trotted into an entryway, head canted a bit. The small building consisted of one hallway with three rooms branching off it. I heard somepony call out from the second door on the right.

“Nopony here by that name. In fact, nopony around here even has a dad. Who’s that out there?”

I turned the corner and stared at the foal looking up at me, pausing in sewing up a colt. He looked back at what he was doing. Gray-blue coat. Unicorn. Yellow mane. Combat medic uniform, goggles, a white cape with the rampant earth filly patch. Some sort of identification? Did it have something to do with the Crusaders?

“Why’d my dad’s Pipbuck tag lead me to you? His name was Stitch Smile if that helps...”

“Stitch Smile was my father. He’s dead, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here with the Crusaders.” He lifted his left foreleg and waved it to show me the Pipbuck there. What. “He had it put on me before he died and the Peace Corps brought me here to practice medicine.”

I sat down. I couldn’t get my head around this. Something must be rotten, pulling me to the core... “I need bullets out of my brain. So I’m sent to find a foal? WHo happens to be my kid brother.” I paced, grumbling to myself as I thought. Goddamn my nose wouldn’t stop bleeding either..

“Bullets in your head? How are you still walking around? I.. May be able to help. I’ve learned a lot about medicine, brain surgery.. should be within my skill.” He finished what he was doing, and looked back up at me as I leaned on the doorjamb, lighting a cigarette.

“I’m Spanner Wrench. I guess I’m your sister. Where do we go from here?” So help me, he actually took my cigarette and crushed it before going to sit on a couch off to one side.

“Happy Healthy. Most of the kids here call me Doc or Medic, I suppose you can do the same, Span. I’d need someplace better than this, tools to do the surgery. There’s a medical center the Peace Corps built before the war in Bayston, we shouldn’t have any trouble since it’s been abandoned since the war. Should have everything we need there. Plus medical supplies. Or experimental devices. Lot of stuff to be picked.”

I grinned a little bit and nodded as he wrote something down and moved to follow me out of the building. “So we’ll find my friends and get the fuck out of here. Um.” Problem. We were in a cave. A big, winding, backtracking, easy to get lost in cave.

“Where are they?”

Idea! “One went to see if there was anypony she could trade with, and I have a tag I can follow for my other friend.”

He snapped an odd pistol under his coat, and a black set of saddlebags on. “Flimflam’s got a shop deeper in the cave, we’ll probably find your trader friend.” I nodded as he lead me. I’m not sure how I felt about meeting my brother. I’m not sure how I felt about my dad being dead. I suppose I wasn’t feeling anything yet, or couldn’t feel anything.. Whatever Cutthroat had done to me had broken me that badly. I smiled a little bit despite myself when I saw the roomful of junk, watching my brother talk to an earth pony. I felt the kevlar of Ditzy’s armor against my side, and had no recollection of events between the office and here.

“So we ready to go?”

Taptaptap. ‘Where’s Magenta?’

Oh. Right. “Around here some’res. Gimme a sec and I’ll go track down her tag and find her.”

She smiled a little and bumped her nose against mine. I felt a slight stirring.. ‘I’ll stay here with your brother Go get your marefriend and then we’ll leave.’

I nodded and turned to leave, and found myself laying on something soft in a place I didn’t recognize. I felt Magenta’s forelegs around me. I blinked and pulled the gauze packed tight against my eyes and muzzle off before looking around. Nighttime. Campfire. Ceiling. No walls. Fuel station? “How’d we get here? Wherever here is?”

“I’m not sure. Used to be a fuel station before the war, servicing the E-90. You hit the ground and started seizing, and the bleeding got worse. There wasn’t much we could do except stabilize you, and the Corps refused to help when they saw your tattoo, and they “politely” escorted us out with guns. The LT and I took turns carrying you, we just wanted to get somewhere safe...”

I smiled up at her and yawned. “Why? I feel fine. Maybe a little shaky, and my chest is kinda tight. I’d be better without the fucking lead in my brain and with some mints washed down with a Sonic.”

She shook her head as I nosed open her saddlebags and sat back with a Sonic inhaler between my teeth. I pushed the button and took a deep breath. “LT says the drugs are ripping you apart inside. Maybe even caused a bleed in your brain, we don’t know.”

I rolled my eyes a little bit and sighed to myself as I felt the chem chasing away the shakes. I felt better almost immediately. “Yeah, whatever. I need. You know that, and you know you’ll keep stuff by for me. Like how you kept this Sonic on hoof.”

I smiled a little bit and finished off the chem before tossing the empty inhaler into the fire. I sat back down next to her and prodded her side gently. She just blushed and watched the fire for a moment. “You know, you look better with the dye washed out of your fur.” I loved her reactions.

She was strange, her first conversation with me had consisted of me basically telling her that she belonged to me. She’d spent a week learning what that entailed, and what I was capable of, what Cutthroat had taught me. And she not only put up with it, she willingly subjected herself to the abuse... I kissed the barely-healed place on her neck where I’d stubbed out a cigarette.

“You are more pleasant when not in withdrawal. Pls I like to make you happy. But Spanner, you promised to take me home...”

I leaned against her and nipped at her as I thought. Pretty damn cheerful now that I had Sonic in my blood. “I know, Magenta. Look, how far are we from Stalliongrad, right now? Where’s Ditzy and my brother? I’m fine, we can go right now.”

“Not far. Five-six miles or so. I was flying in this direction while you were unconcious. Ditzy took off with your brother on some errand for the Guide. She left your armored barding but told me to restrain you if you tried to do too much.”

I slipped on my utility barding and smiled as I slipped the coat on over it, dunking my hat over my head, blue forelock poking out under the brim, eyepatch covering my tattoo. My saddlebags went overtop of it all. I checked the loadouts of all my guns, and looked to Magenta.

“Why don’t you get your armor on, let’s leave them word and go out for a walk. I’m interested in meeting your mother.”

She nodded and put on her insectile power armor, her face hidden shortly by the helmet, which had a skull painted on the front of it. Her laser cannons followed, six-barrelled Gatling with a center aperture for accurate single shots, the whole assemblies on either side plugged into spark batteries. No-ammo cheater... I smiled and shakily started off down the road.

Apparently we made it to Stalliongrad without incident, because the next thing I remember was Magenta telling me to keep my eyepatch on as we walked through a security checkpoint. Two Enclave ponies in uniforms took Magenta’s name and an assumed one for me, and checked her holotags. I looked up at the statue of a life-size pegasus in a proud pose. Or maybe was it slightly aggressive?

“That’s Rainbow Dash, one of our founders. The likeness is apparently -perfect- as far as we can measure, and it’s unknown just what kind of stone the statue is carved from or with. No toolmarks, and it’s been sitting here in the square exposed to the elements for two hundred years. Rain in the summer, ice and snow in the winter, and baking sun.. No eroding whatsoever, like it was carved earlier today.”

“Amazing. She was pretty.”

Magenta nodded and lead me up a set of steps to a large, ornate building, through the set of double doors at the top. Mithril bindings. The doors themselves heavy, ebony. Once through I saw the massive brackets that could hold a full-sized tree to hold the doors shut. This wasn’t no pansy palace, this was a castle, built to withstand a siege. Interesting place for an Enclave enclave.

“Airman First Class Sky, requesting to speak with Colonel Cloudkicker.” Her helmet’s breather altered the way she sounded oddly, distorting and somehow amplifying it, making her sound almost robotic. She was speaking to a mare sitting behind a desk, seeming to at once be a secretary and receptionist as she touched a device on her throat and whispered, before nodding to us and returning to what she was doing. Magenta lead me across the checkerboard-patterned tile of the massive entry hall towards a room at the back.

She nudged open the door, and a pegasus mare looked up from her desk as Magenta removed her helmet. She was the spitting image of the painting behind her, except maybe her mane was longer and better cared for, and her face wasn’t as torn up. The plaque under it read “Lieutenant General Scootaloo”. Her expression softened, those lavender eyes watchful as Magenta laid her dead companion’s tags on the desk’s blotter.

“Airman Basic Glory. Killed in Action. Senior Airman Cloudburst. Killed in Action. S.. Staff Sergeant..” My armored friend took a shaky breath. “Stormy Day. Killed in Action.”

“Magenta... Have you accomplished your mission? Did you find her? Or did your sister and comrades die without meaning? Why have you brought a raider foal into our midst.”

I sat down and grumbled a little bit to myself, removing my glasses and eyepatch, rubbing at the irritated area, staring down at the blood on my hoof.

“This mare saved my life. My comrades were brought down by raiders, I took multiple hits but this mare helped me. She is from 105.”

Cloudkicker narrowed her eyes a little bit as she watched me appraisingly. Yes! That’s why she and Scootaloo in the painting behind her looked the same. That piercing stare more than the color of her coat and mane, the sensation that she saw straight through you to whom you really were. She glanced over my tattoo, my scarred face, my bloody eyes, the electric blue forelock peeking out from under my hat. “Collect her armor and disarm her. Surprise will want to speak with her, if she’s the Stable Pony.” Magenta nodded at the Colonel’s order, and took my coat, hat, and armor. She put them in her own saddlebags and took mine from me. “Magenta will take you up to see her.”

My pegasus friend nodded and lead me out of her mother’s office, and back out into the main room, to a set of doors marked with the Enclave’s insignia- an ‘E’ with three balloons and a lightning bolt between the serifs. These obnoxiously ornate slabs opened on an elevator, Magenta whacked the lowermost button on the wall. We dropped... I don’t know how far, past labs, studios, barracks, machine shops, training areas...

“This place is almost like a Stable.”

“Yes, the Enclave commissioned Stable-Tek to build this bunker to help keep the Enclave alive. Unlike Stables.”

“Sorry?”

“Stables weren’t meant to save anypony. They were social experiments. We have records, Scootaloo admitted her guilt in Stable-Tek’s actions and provided evidence that implicated her friends, even her adoptive mother Rainbow Dash and her friends in the conspiracy.”

The doors opened on a room, plain but for a circular table in the center and a maneframe along one wall. The monitor on the desk lit up, a bright line across the center that oscillated with the speech I heard next issuing from speakers somewhere.

“Ah. Spanner Wrench, unless I miss my guess. Forgive me for not meeting with you face to face. National security measures to uphold, you understand. I am President Surprise, pleasure to meet you.”

“Crusader Maneframe mark... four? No, five. Impressive. Given the power, I could be speaking to the imprint of a pony long dead, clever programming that would lead me to think I was speaking to a pony, or a broken program somehow having achieved sapience.”

“Smart mare. But I assure you, I am the pony I say I am. My name is President Surprise, and I am using this terminal to communicate with you. The fourth option- I am a flesh and blood pony safely cloistered elsewhere. This maneframe holds our history and acts as a custodian of the systems we use, nothing more.”

I waved a hoof and let Magenta light me a cigarette. “Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss President. What did you want to speak to me about?”

“I make an effort to meet with all the Stable Ponies that come my way. They have... A unique ability to change things. I wish to make things better, make them right.

For you see, Equestria has remained a nation in distress. Oh, we have made great strides in eradicating the dual blight of Lunar Reich and Order of the Golden Dawn.

Shoot it.

In rendering assistance to what communities we can reach out to. In locking up bad ponies like you yourself are turning into.

Celestia’s sake, pony, DESTROY IT.

Our factories are run by raiders. Thieves, murderers, slavers, all drive our advancements in science and medicine.”

‘Get out of my head.’ ‘Your head?’  Voice, steadily getting louder. I could still hear Surprise talking, the voice in my head was getting distracting though...

“They help grow crops that feed the Enclave and what settlements we can reach out to. But the exchange wasn’t the end of the world. Nothing changed. The evil and corrupt survived while the innocent perished. That’s where you come in. I have plans that you are integral to. Or another Stable pony, if you fail.”

LUNA SCORN IT! SHE’S LEADING YOU ASTRAY!

“You are to begin with Ponyville. It has become a nest of slavers and raiders. Kill them all, so it will be able to be restored to its former glory. Transportation will be provided to get you close, we have held your raider friend, the ghoul, and the foal here.”

Don’t listen to her.

“Impressive. But I’m supposed to, what, listen to you after you threaten my friends? I have problems of my own to handle. Return to me what’s mine, and I guess you can wait ten years.”

Yes. Resist her. She’s evil incarnate.

I turned to leave, trying to ignore the voice thundering in my skull, but was held back by Surprise calling my name.

“You will be compensated. You will have the Enclave’s support. We can help you get into the Fluttershy Medical Center. A place with us. To walk with the ponies who -actually- want to restore Equestria.”

“You can do that? You can bring back Equestria?”

“Have you not been listening? The Enclave has ways to do such a thing- if you’ll help us with certain parts. Now go, make me the magics.”

I hate her.

I pursed my lips a little and nodded. I dressed in the elevator, and let out a breath as we were taken to the roof. A transport was waiting with two Enclave officers in uniform, there. I found Ditzy, Cutthroat, and Doc in the troop compartment. We exchanged brief stories to catch each other up (I left out the voice urging me to ignore the President). My brother and Ditzy had been taken while they were out investigating local foliage that could be used in lieu of Healer. Cutthroat had been the Enclave’s guest for five days- since I’d been shot. Nothing much else to report.

“Time for Ponyville, I guess...”

Magenta nodded and tapped on the door of the pilot’s compartment. I felt a sickening lurch as we rose and buzzed off to the southwest. The Vertibuck shuddered and there was a loud snap, Magenta cheerfully announcing we were now traveling at Dash and outrunning our own sound. It sounded foggy, like I was listening to her through cotton-stuffed ears... I didn’t realize anything was wrong until my head hit the floor and I knew nothing more.

        White. Everything was white. Oh.. Celestia- I was blind! I’d been blinded when my head hit the floor of the.. Wait.. This stuff I was laying on wasn’t metal. It was a cloud. That startled me more. I was a unicorn, I didn’t belong on the clouds! I rose, and realized I was taller than I had any right to be. An arrogant, self-confident voice rang out, and it struck me that I was the only one speaking, as I stared down at the ground far below. Green grass... Perfectly blue sky...

“So you ignored me. Surprise always wins in the end, I’m not surprised.”

“What? What’s going on. This is too much... Am I crazy? … They must be right, the chems must be rotting me.”

“Nope. You’re perfectly sane, far as I can tell. I’ve been silent for two hundred years... Finally somepony can hear me.” I felt a Dash inhaler press between my teeth, hardly knowing what I was doing as I fumbled it and pressed the button, feeling the familiar supercharge. “A powder made from a leaf grown in Grypha, mixed with liquid rainbow. It’s definitely not supposed to go into ponies, but it makes us faster, we need it. I authorized its use on conscripts that were going to die anyway when they carried the bombs. Fitting that I would die without the chem that’s named after me.” I dove off the cloud, cyan forehooves held out in front of me. It struck me that the wind was rushing over my wings, wings that I didn’t actually have. What the fuck was going on? A shimmering barrier collected in front of me. I leaned forward and pressed back against it, as it threatened to toss me back. It felt like... I would barely do this, but with the chem it was easy, effortless. A rushing sound filled my ears, and I realized I could still hear myself speaking.

“Who are you?”

“It should be obvious. I’m one of the mares that ended the world. I’m one of the ones responsible for the mess your world is in.” With a loud thundercrack of sound and a flash of rainbow light that quickly faded and turned a violent shade of red, I slammed through the barrier like it was paper. The laws of physics protested and were bitchslapped aside as I tore through the skies, barreling towards the ground like a magnetically-accelerated shell. My mind filled with calculations in the same thought-voice I’d been hearing, and I became aware of the fact that I was riding in the mind of a suicidal Dashed-out pegasus and that we were both going to die.

Twenty. Fifteen. Twelve. Ten. Eight. Five. Four. Two. Just as I braced for impact, the pegasus did the impossible again. She ripped upwards, soaring back upwards at a 45 degree angle from where we’d come down. My own mind tried to calculate how that was at all possible and failed the math. We soared at impossible speed, the mare outrunning her own grief, it seemed. “I am Air Force General Rainbow Dash. I gave my life in protecting the Enclave, the last bastion of true Equestria. I.. Turned traitor. Remember me.”

“I will.” We had landed, and she was staring into a puddle. I was struck by the duality of both our images together. We both looked like hell... “What do I do from here?”

“Just... Go to Ponyville. Do what Surprise wants. But don’t do it blindly. And my advice; you’ll regret the Dash.”

I woke up staring up at Doc, who was worriedly nudging me with a forehoof. I sat up and looked around. Judging by the lack of vibration, we’d stopped. “Where are we?”

Magenta looked over, cycling her beam gun thingy. “We’re here, we figured we’d wait till you were conscious. We were all worried.”

I smiled a little bit and nodded, shaking my head and beginning to leave the Vertibuck, which had apparently touched down in a clearing in the forest that Ponyville bordered.

“So we gonna go in there and kill em all dead?” Cutthroat licked the edge of her sword, that I’d pieced together from the bumper of a groundwagon almost a month ago.

Well... That was a plan. “Naw, seriously, I have a plan. Take off your eyepatch, and here’s what we’re gonna do...”

Okay. Say what you want, but Cut was good at the whole ‘planning’ thing. She’d pointed out that my tattoo and her notoriety would get us into Ponyville without getting shot. After that, it was up to me, the smart planny-pony, to figure shit out.

We had a ghoul pegasus who could field either a grenade launcher or beam pistol to great effect. Magenta had her crazy gatling beam weapon. Me with Air’s Hammer and the two .44s and the 10mm pistols. My brother and his weird syringe-gun, and his bonesaw. Cutthroat was basically a living weapon, and had her sword and knives on top of her own bulldozer form.

Against a whole town filled with ponies who had been killing ponies since birth. Obviously the way to go about this was -not- guns blazing. I needed to think about how to use everypony to their full potential.

        “I hate this idea. Why did you guys let me go through with this.” I grumbled. Or rather, a pony that looked rather like me grumbled. My fur had been dyed, and my cutie mark carefully covered over. Ditzy and Magenta’s armor and weapons were hidden nearby, they had simple rope nooses around their necks and bound wings.

        “It is a good plan. You will do well.” Magenta’s beautiful voice purred into one of my ears.

        I shook my head and lead our rag-tag group of ponies towards the town. I felt a sniper’s crosshairs on my forehead as I approached a pair of sentries- they wore the sort of clothing toughs the Wasteland over sported. Obviously slavers or low-level raiders.

        “Where do you think you’re goin, filly? An’ wid awll dis meat?”

        The unicorn of the pair snickered to himself as he watched us approach, with special attention to me. Obviously thinking something. I picked up his comrade’s sledgehammer in my magic. I was feeling the withdrawals and hating every moment of my life.

        The male had a second of the horror of having his horn shattered by the first blow. The second crumpled in his occipital ridge and cheekbone, tearing out his eye. He was already falling when the third strike landed and the weathered shaft of the hammer snapped along with his neck. I held the spike that the shaft had turned into as I breathed hard, the sharp tip wavering slightly as I turned to glare at his companion over my glasses. Was there something wrong with me, why I loved causing suffering, why I loved the rush of murder? How did a short month bring me to be a bloodthirsty monster? I continued to glare at the mud pony that had watched the brutal murder of a friend.

        “My name. Is Fourguns. I’m here to speak business with your boss.” I took a deep breath, really tapping into the balefire in my veins. I needed to be a slaver badass right now. “Now. You’s gonna bring me tah him, or I’m gonna hae to put on me angry hat. And trust me, it’s one ugly hat, dirt.”

        Something was wrong. Why weren’t they shooting? Beating the unicorn to death hadn’t been on the menu. I’d just given our far-sighted friend a rather decent reason that I wouldn’t really begrudge to air-condition my skull. I looked at Cutthroat, who was probably wondering the same thing, and she shrugged.

        “I’ll... I’ll take you.. J.. Just don’t kill me.. Keep that ghoul under control and there won’t be no trouble, aye?”

        I was a little embarrassed for him. He looked about ready to shit himself!

        He brought us to meet a zebra male in a pinstriped suit. The zebra smiled and held out a hoof to shake that I didn’t take. His voice annoyed me. “My name is Akashi. Welcome to my town.”

        I scowled and turned to look around with an appraising eye. Fourteen ponies within the circle EFS could scan. I had him, their leader, before me... But I wanted to do more recon before causing any more trouble. Maybe make the fight easier.

        “Cut to the chase, stripeass. I’m here for Paradise’s cut of your caps and any meat y’got to send their way.”

        Akashi’s expression leveled out as he looked at me, probably just seeing me for the first time. Or staring at the blood trickling from the tearduct of my left eye. He looked at my companions, back to me, and smiled. Cut had added the three dots to my slaver tattoo that would allow me to impersonate a lieutenant (As if the troubles caused by my ink wasn’t bad enough.) We’d capitalized on the fact that I looked like a filly with the dye, to try to make me look like a BAMF of a slaver brat with the disguise and a little acting on my part. (I’d dabbled before my CAT had said it was the grease pit for me!)

        “We’re honored to have such a young but decorated filly from Paradise’s ranks with us today. Perhaps you’ll stay with us the night to rest before returning?”

        I sniffed haughtily, and turned to my entourage. I knew from experience how to be a spoilt brat. “Very well. We will join you tonight. Cutthroat, fetch our things, I’d hate to see those mud ponies getting into them. Naturally, we will need decent accommodations if we will be staying with you the night.” I stressed ‘decent’ to make it sound like ‘five-star’ or something like.

        I noticed my brother hiding in the shadows of one of the buildings. He saw me watching and nodded, before slipping off again. Step one, complete. He’d thin their ranks as much as wasn’t suspicious. Cutthroat trotted off to retrieve the cart we’d laden down with my utility barding, Ditzy’s and Magenta’s armor and weapons. Akashi lead us to a building that had once been ornately fanciful. I wondered how a circular building had been constructed.

        I sighed and sat down as he left us in the main room- which had once been a storefront of some kind. “It’s clean, at least. Okay, so far, so good. When Cut comes back, you and Ditzy armor up. And...”

I watched as a little gray mare trotted up to a chest I hadn’t noticed earlier, but couldn’t help but see now. I noticed the appalling decor that I really hadn’t thought much of when we’d first entered. The place had been torn apart, and the words scrawled on the walls had a ghostly quality, but some seemed more substantial. It stank of blood and worse. The whole thing had the quality of looking -past- something right in front of your nose, the two images that showed up when you did such. She was better at lockpicking than I, it took two of her bobby pins, before she’d opened the chest. Inside was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen!  Such lines, such folds of fabric, and the colors -- elegant and regal -- yet the fabric was light, breezy and did not sag!  It was a dream!  Sadly, a dream for another, taller pony. She seemed to think the same as I did, although I wondered where my sudden taste in fancy clothing had come from...

Joy and disappointment mixed in equal measure.  I realized she couldn’t wear it, and neither could I, without some extensive hacking. I watched her fold up the cheery thing, and I thought I saw a thoughtful look on her face as she stowed it in her saddlebags, the room snapping to normal. She was gone, along with the dress, but the chest remained.

        I stared at the walls. tratorus bich and the like stared down at me from the walls. Well that wasn’t very nice.

        “What in the Sorrel Hells was that all about?”

        I head Magenta’s worried voice and saw the worried expression on Ditzy’s face. “Are you okay, Spanner? You’ve just been standing there staring off into space.”

        I smiled shakily and nodded. “Yeah. Only thinking a little bit. Wanna see what’s in that chest for me? You’re good at that whole lockey-pickey thing.” Either they hadn’t seen what had just happened, or I’d hallucinated. Chalk it up to my list of problems. “After that, look out the upstairs windows. Should be a good vantage point to see most of that street. Me and Cut will draw them to that square. Fish in a barrel.”

        Ditzy looked thoughtful for a moment, and scribbled on a pad of notepaper she’d found, her own mislaid temporarily. It had probably been once used to fill out measurements or something tailory-seamstressy like that.

        I must admit I liked her idea better.

        Doc, Ditzy, and Magenta got things ready as night began to fall, me and Cutthroat making nice with the slavers. They wanted to show us their operation, being under the impression that I was gonna bring all this back to Paradise instead of off them that night. Akashi shot anypony that didn’t quite live up to my expectations of what a slaver or raider should be, I’d convinced him that he was better off without them. I also learned that Akashi was terrible with his zebra-made 10mm pistol.

        Later on... “Slavers and Raiders of Ponyville, we thank you for the hospitality you have shown us agents of Paradise. We invite you to dine with us this fine evening, on such delicacies as can be found in the heart of the Reich itself.”

        I both loved and hated this part. So much waste. Flashy, but sloppy. The death of the ponies, too. Akashi and five of his top ponies (as evaluated by myself and Cutthroat) had been invited to sit down to a meal laid out on a long table in the town’s square. “We thank you.”

        They began to eat, and I turned away. I took a deep breath and dropped to my stomach, putting my hooves over my ears and bracing myself. Ditzy pushed her button, and there was a loud crack as the plastic explosives they’d all spent the day cooking up went off. The six bars that had been behind me on EFS went out as they were blown to Everafter.

        The couple other white bars I saw milling about turned red as the hoofful of raiders and slavers that were milling about the town realized something wasn’t right and came at us. Moment of truth...

        I focused as I opened my coat. The two ten millimeter pistols lifted out, the lasers kicking on and putting little dots on the chests of two earth ponies toting shotguns. We fired at the same time.

        I managed to hang onto the guns I was holding in my magic as a slug slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me, and shot peppered my chest, face, and forelegs. Two holes appeared in the bardings of the other two, one dropped, the other reloaded his shotgun. I wiped blood from my face and tried to focus enough to draw the two revolvers. They shook a little, but I managed. I could feel a couple ribs cracked or broken with each breath. I grinned and pushed all four triggers at once as “Shotgun”’s eyes widened, his own gun going off. Buckshot peppered me again, luckily enough it wasn’t high-gauge enough and the pony was too far away for it to take off my face, he wasn’t so lucky. He dropped with at least another hole put in him.

        I took a deep breath and steadied my guns, taking stock of my surroundings. I heard the crump of Ditzy’s grenade launcher, the weird sound of Magenta’s beam rifles sweeping the area. And then I was shot again. Of course I was shot again. All I’d been doing for the last couple days was catch bullets.

        I coughed and spat up blood as I shakily attempted to get back up onto my hooves and felt myself unable to do it. A cold emptyness filled my gut, and I knew instinctively that the bullet had ripped through my armor. I could smell my own blood and things better left inside spilled across the cobbles. I managed to get up onto my hooves through sheer dint of will, my breathing difficult. Was I dying? Was I already dead? Was somepony coming to collect me along to Everafter? No.. No Everafter for me, I was headed straight for Hell...

        I coughed as another shot slammed into the cobbles at my hooves (don’t think about the stains) along with a sound like the Stable door slamming shut. Like Celestia stomping her forehooves. Like.. A damn big noise, fuck you I’m dying, I can afford to be vague. The sniper from earlier.

        I dropped the pistols and fell onto my back, bringing the rifle up and slipping into SATS as I looked through the scope.

        There was a slowed-down second of us staring at one another, me and the unicorn with the sniper rifle. I had a chunk tore out of me, I could feel it, but I knew now that I might live to see later on. I wondered who she was, if we could have laughed together over a bottle of Stalliongrad’s Finest. SATS helped me as I pulled the trigger and put a bullet in her skull.

        “What are you up to, Spanner? How many more you going to send?”

        I stared at a mare. Unicorn. Purple-gray coat. Yellow mane. Yellow eyes. (Almost like Ditzy, come to think of it.) Odd fatigues I’d never seen before. I could see Air’s Hammer strapped to her foreleg. She had a holotag on her chest, that read “CPL S. SPADE”.

        “Okay. Now I know I’m either dead or hallucinating.” I picked up my guns and holstered them, ignoring the odd way one of my forelegs bent and the cold feeling of a rather large chunk being torn out of my side, one of my kidneys was probably soup by now. (It’s okay, you only needed one of those... right?) I tried not to notice the blood trickling down my torn face and throat, the odd feeling of my broken ribs shifting with each breath. My glasses had been all but obliterated by the shot, I was glad they’d saved my eyes and surprised that they’d lasted this long.

        “She hurt you bad. But that’s not why you take lives with such relish. Nor is it an excuse to continue being the bloodthirsty little shit you are.”

        I shook my head and took two steps before collapsing from my strained foreleg giving and the broken one simply being unable to hold me up. “Just following the example you set, Sapper.”

        “I was one of the few ponies trying to stop the war. Fighting for peace.. Yeah, just like fucking for virginity.” She laughed and shook her head, I finally noticed the fact she only had one eye, and her face was fucked up. Was she becoming more solid, or was that just my perception of things going fuzzy? “You’re nothing like me. Just a scared, hurt filly hiding behind a gun and a bloodstained reputation while trying to make yourself the mare that hurt you. My advice, Spanner, if you stand for nothing you’ll fall for anything. Look through Ponyville a bit before calling in the Enclave.”

        I woke to my brother staring at me. My barding was pulled off, my coat was laying on the ground, and there were three empty Med-ex and a couple empty Healers sitting on the bench next to me. “Try not to move too much. I’m still pulling buckshot out of your face. Luckily your forelegs healed up fine with the Healers, and the damage to your lower back didn’t take too much work.” I held still while he plucked lead from my face with forceps.

        “Last I knew, I was chewing cobbles. How’d I get inside?”

        “I poun’ you, Cus’roat carriet you. Unconscious. Library, closest building. Magenta’s downstairs, pickin’ locks an’ lettin’ out slaves, Ditzy’s readin’ a book, Cus’roat’s off some’res.”

        I nodded, and recieved a hoof to the side of the head before holding still again. “Awright, awright, hurry up, ain’t got all night.. We should pick the place over a bit before calling in the Enclave an tellin them that we did their dirty work.”

        I closed my eyes and dialed in TruFax’ signal while waiting for Doc to be finished pulling the lead from my face and sewing me up. I was rewarded with white noise. “The fuck?”

        “TruFax has been down... About a month. Maybe two. Get out past 95, and you can’t pick it up na’more.” Huh... Not good. “We have more pressing matters, though. Your seizures. Addiction. The bullets in your brain. If we go to Bayston at all, it’ll be straight to the medical center to get you at least operational-like again.”

        Well shit. Ponies needed to hear Stereo Beat. If she could help me maintain my sanity through... That... Then.. Who else could be helped? I sighed and made a face at the odd feel of the forceps removing pellets from my flesh. I turned on Z-Core instead because I was fucked if I was going to sit there doing nothing. A deep-voiced, reassuring voice issued from the speaker on my Pipbuck.

        “For those of you just joining our program, this is Z-Core Radio with your host Zakhem. Now from music to somepony who will speak; it’s Sweetie Belle’s time of week.”

        And then a mare spoke up. A voice I’d heard in songs. Clear. Unravaged by ghoulification or time. “Thank you, Zachem. My darling Equestria, it’s time for us to have a chat.

        I must speak with you of some troubling matters. I know it’s not your fault, it never was. I am of course referring to that great national problem of our foals today. It is for them that more than half of our once-great nation scavenges and scrabbles like rats. Our own spokespony with the Enclave has told us that they whole-heartedly have devoted themselves to this problem, taking in what foals they can and making sure the travesty that the Crusaders became- once a great youth-group- have a better life than they would have had otherwise through trading.

        They run orphanages to raise and eventually adopt out foals that would otherwise have become feral.

So the next time you hear somepony trying to paint the Enclave as evil, ask him what he’s done for Equestria. Ask him why he supports the Reich, or the Order, who only care for fighting amongst themselves and hoarding technology. Or even worse, if he speaks only for himself. For you see, both the Reich and Order are today common criminals with access to some.. Antiquated technology. And the pony that walks alone is even worse- he has no morals and will kill you for the gun you hold or the food in your bag. The Enclave still has but two goals; stop the war, and save Equestria, both by any means necessary.

Now onto a lighter topic.

Let me tell you the story of Fluttershy the Stare Master, my darling Equestra...”

And so she told us all about a slumber party at a shy pegasus’ cottage during her fillyhood, and a run-in with a cockatrice. She and my brother finished about the same time.

“I must leave you now, but I do so with a happy heart and confidence in my dear friend Zachem. Remember, Equestria prevails.”

“Thank you, and goodbye Miss Sweetie. Truly your words shall ring most truthfully. And now for some music, I think. This hour sponsored by Crater’s ‘The Kitchen Sink’.

“If you're blue and you don't know, where to go to why don't you go where fashion sits.

Puttin' on the Ritz.

Different types who wear a day, coat pants with stripes and cutaway, coat perfect fits.

Puttin' on the Ritz.

Dressed up like a million-dollar trooper Tryin' hard to look like Hoity Toity (super duper)

Come let's mix where high-rollers walk with sticks or um-ber-ellas in their mitts...

Puttin’ on the Ritz.”

The song continued on in that general vein, but I just sat and blinked, utterly blown away by this. It was one thing to have heard she’d survived the war. It was another to hear her sweet voice drip venom from my very own Pip Boy. Interesting, certainly interesting. I sat up and began slipping back into my armor, which was getting pretty beaten up by this point. “So what do I owe yah?”

Doc didn’t seem amused by my little joke. “Spanner... how many deaths are you responsible for? And I don’t mean where you consciously pulled the trigger, I mean total.”

I thought. Complicated question with a simple answer. “Fifteen today. Three yesterday. However many I killed when I don’t remember what I was doing. Nine the day before. I’m missing a couple days recovering from getting shot. If I managed to give up the location of Stable 105 to the Order before taking two to the face, another thousand. About four weeks being a medic with Cutthroat’s outfit, I probably killed about fifteen on my own during that.” I paused in reloading my guns while thinking. “Should I include ponies killed by ponies I’ve saved? How much blood do you want me to own up to, Happy?” I lit another cigarette. “Why do you ask?”

He stared at me, aghast. “Doesn’t that bother you? To have caused so much death...” He shook his head and cleaned his tools, glancing every now and again like I was something that he’d watched crawl out from under a rock and into his food, or he could see the blood that drenched me. “How many do you regret?”

I racked a fresh magazine into one of the 10mm pistols, checked the laser, and holstered it inside my coat before blowing out a cloud of smoke thoughtfully. “None of them. I feel no remorse, just disappointment that I had to. Kill, I mean. And what other ponies do to other ponies is their own business, why should I feel bad for what they do? Why should I feel bad for killing a pony with a hundred notches on his gun?”

“You’ve been hanging out with Cutthroat too long. She’s fucked you up something fierce.”

If only I could blame her. She’d only taught me new and interesting methods. “More than you know, little brother. More than you could possibly know.”

I looked around the room we were sitting in. Books and antiques lined shelves cut into the walls. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be decorated in raider chic. There was a unicorn laying on her side on the bed, her face swaddled in bandages and her body wrapped in the blankets. I was struck by a splatter of blood that I noticed on the ceiling, and a balcony bearing a huge rifle on a bipod. “You saved the sniper that nearly offed me?”

He shook his head. “Spanner. Wholesale slaughter will not help ponies. Won’t help Equestria. You, me, everyone is in the mess we’re in because of that kind of thinking. She shot you because you blew up her boss and killed her friends. And you did that because somepony told you to. Because they’d done something to tick off somepony bad enough to send you. See the cycle? It never ends if you keep killing ponies.”

“I could have sworn I killed her. I shot her in the head.”

“You very nearly did.” He pushed up his goggles. I was struck by the loss of my glasses, everything was a little less defined than normal. And made even muddier by my lack of mints. “Hit her in the jaw. Narrowly avoided fatally wounding her, ripped part of her face off. She’ll look ugly, but she’ll live with the chems and healing supplies I used.”

I shook my head and let out a snort of disgust as I turned to the door. “You get to figure out what to do with her, then. President Surprise wanted Ponyville to be a graveyard.” I left him with his patient, watching Magenta pick locks to release the dirty, pitiful ponies cowering in the cages downstairs for a moment or two. I grumbled just a little bit as I lit another cigarette. “Celestia’s sloppy cunt but you’re all a bunch of fuckin bleedin’ hearts. Wonder y’all lived this long.”

I grumbled to myself pretty steadily as I continued out the library, back towards the shop we’d prepared for the battle in. I stared at the chest I’d watched that ghostly mare open, frowning a little as I noticed a bobby pin lying nearby. A knife would have to serve for a screwdriver. It took me nearly ten terse minutes, but I finally got the single pin to snap up and the tumbler to turn. The lid popped up and revealed that breathtaking dress, and I grinned to myself as I tucked it into my saddlebags. I turned to see Cutthroat watching me carefully. I hadn’t even noticed her, which was quite a feat as she’d wrecked the place. There was a splintered ponykin to show she’d smashed it against things in a rage, other evidence that she’d been at it for a while. She was muttering, her red eyes looking at something. (As far as I could tell. She could be like Ditzy for all I knew, without any pupil or sclera to tell from)

I swallowed and slowly approached her, ears tucked flat. “Cutthroat? What’s the matter? What are you looking for?”

Her jaw worked a moment, and I saw my least-favorite expression. She suddenly chuckled, a harsh grating sound behind it as usual. “There’s a bunker, here... It has things I’d like to remember in it.”

I did not like her look, nor her body language- they both pointed to me getting pointed one way or another. I had to defuse the situation. “A bunker... Like a fallout shelter? Wouldn’t that be in the basement? Maybe the door is hidden.”

She blinked like this hadn’t occurred to her. (It probably hadn’t.) She trotted off, and I stared as I watched another unicorn. White, purple mane. She and the younger filly with her had the same ethereal quality as the unicorn I’d watched earlier. I was a little afraid of them and what they meant for my mental state.

Was I seizing again? Was some vibration of the bullets in my skull causing hallucinations? “Now, Sweetie, remember. When you hear the sirens you must make it downstairs as quick as you can.”

“Yes, sis...” The filly didn’t seem interested very much in this drill. I followed them into the basement, the older mare pressed a button on the wall and they disappeared through the floor. I tapped the button myself, and a hidden hatchway snapped open on a stairway, that ended on a small landing and a strangely shaped door.

“Now the scanner only knows me right now, but we’ll have you programmed in.” She laid her hoof on a square in the center of the door, and they both walked through it.

“And my friends?”

“Yes, your friends as well. But nopony else.”

I blinked. Why build a fallout shelter only a hoofful of ponies could use? To satisfy my burning curiosity (it could have been my healing hip) I laid my hoof on the square, and was startled when the wheel it was set in spun and the door dropped into the floor and rose into the ceiling. A Stable bulkhead?

“Think I found it, Cutthroat!” I shouted up to her as I slowly walked into the space beyond. I was confronted immediately by a hulk of metal in the shape of a pony. I think I screamed as I backpedaled into the forelegs of Cutthroat, standing there as still as the statue that had scared me, staring....

She picked me up and nudged her nose against mine before putting me down and trotting forward. … Did she just.. console me? Who the fuck was this and what had she done with the sadistic raider bitch I knew?

“It’s my armor. It really is. It’s still here, after all these years... When the Reich, the real Reich, died with Equestria, I ditched it here. No reason to wear it if the nation I swore to defend was burned... I guess I should pick it up. Another symbol, another flag to carry, colors to wear.” She was muttering, I don’t think she was quite aware of things anymore.

She closed her eyes and her horn lit up as she began to work a spell. The armor came apart, and she began humming a song to herself as the pieces settled on croup, dock, haunch, shoulders, hips. She smiled and then the visor of the helmet lit up red. The armor had a frightening air to it, protecting what little of her could be damaged at all in a thick casing of pneumatically powered steel.

“I suppose I should go the rest of the way. Look around a bit, you should find the cases holding my wings and the crates my guns were stored in.” It was a little strange to hear her voice amplified slightly, the mechanical tone that had forever been in the background showing up more clearly now, to see her in this armor that made her seem bigger and more imposing than ever before. Jet black, edged in white that matched the streaks of her mane and tail, designed to be frightening. “Modular. I can mount all kinds of shit to it, everything from laser cannons to artillery pieces. I was wearing anti-armor pieces when the bombs dropped.”

She lifted what I had thought to be a crate but what turned out to be an ammunition well onto her shoulders, the armor’s equipping spell snapping it into place. I hoofed open a weapons case, and stared at the biggest guns I’d ever seen. Both barrels were the size of my hoof, and longer than I was. I pulled out the barrel assembly with magic and set it aside, straining to lift the actual mounting. Cutthroat effortlessly lifted both and put it together, snapping it into place on her left side, the other attaching to her right side, the feed belts clipping onto the massive weapons, the mare stamping at the metal crates and rendering them to scrap, lifting them into the well on her shoulders.

“The fuck is that?”

“They’re mass drivers. Kicks a slug to near the speed of light and spits it out. Chews up bits of metal and compresses them inside a magic field into ammo. Fuckin’ sweet.”

“Sounds it.” Well there was someone else I didn’t have to resupply with ammo. I shook my head and looked around. There was quite a haul to be taken out of here. Piles of Rad-B-Gon, chems, medical supplies, a couple guns, ammo. Radiation suits of all sizes. I left Cutthroat looking for her wings while I went to look around a little. A low counter hid a mattress on the floor from the entrance- a skeleton in rags of clothing clutched a rifle trained on that door. A small object rested in the ribcage. A white statuette with a purple mane.

“What the Sorrel Hells?”

I lifted it with my magic and felt something change within me. The tumult I’d been feeling quieted, my mind stopped spinning... Besides that there was something else. Something big. I tilted my head and stared at the mare for a moment or two. I read the words inscribed on the base.

‘Be Unwavering.’

I blinked as I looked up at the ceiling. Be unwavering? The fuck was that supposed to mean?

‘It means you must stand strong in the face of adversity. Stick to your ideals, no matter what anyponysays.’

Great. Blackouts, seizures, and more voices. I really must be fucked in the head by the bullets in my brain. I put away the figurine and turned to look up at Cutthroat. “Find your wings?”

She flared them for my approval. They added... something to her. She looked like she had knives for feathers, the upper bones sturdy and bladed. She’d probably never fly with them, but they lent her a stately air. “Those are... Uh... Impressive.” I looked away and coughed a bit, before trotting towards the stairwell. “Get everything that’s down here. I’m going to go pick the rest of these buildings.” Why did I feel so bossy all the sudden? And why was she listening to me?

I stepped out of the boutique with my question unanswered, lighting a cigarette and blowing a thoughtful cloud of smoke into the cool night air. Today had held a lot of ‘surprises’ and newness. I felt shooken up again, not sure how I felt... But I felt like a rock in a maelstrom. I was unwavering, as everything rotated around me.

“Spanner... Can vhe talk?”

I looked to see the (really kinda creepy) skull mask enameled on the faceplate of Magenta’s helmet. She’d been sitting on the awning over the doorway, waiting for me. I smiled and nodded as she hopped down next to me. “Yeah, sure, what about?”

“She’s going to use you. Everypony, is going to try to use you. You’re a Stable pony, you have a huge rep for coming out of nowhere and changing everything. I love the Enclave... But don’t let President Surprise talk you into anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.”

I just stared at her for a minute. “You get shot in the head again, ‘genta? You’re talking to the pony what’s got the broken moral compass. You know, it only points out large amounts of chems and caps, ain’t never read moral north.”

She shook her head again and looked back to the sky. The sun was rising, turning the sky a bloody red, fitting for the work we’d done in the night. “You never know. Your moral compass could get fixed. She could ask you to do something even you can’t bring yourself to do. You’re not Cutthroat, Spanner. Don’t try to be. She’s had two hundred years of practice as a psychotic bitch. My advice? Use the LT as a sounding board. She’s a good mare.”

I leaned up and thumped my forehead against her armored nose. “No sweat. I ain’t gonna do nothin without runnin it past Bright Eyes. Good?”

I imagine she smiled, and looked up at the bleeding sky for a minute. “Do you know why my mother named me what she did?”

Magenta Sky... I had no clue. “No. Why?”

“At night, when the sun is setting... If sky is red, the next day will be pleasant and clear.”

I shook my head and looked down at the ground as I leaned against the pegasus. “You Wasteland ponies are all weird. I’m named after a fucking tool, and your name gave you a name like Magenta Sky; an enjoyable tomorrow. Wonderful.”

I grumbled and stood up, shaking my head a little as Cutthroat stepped out of the boutique with bulging saddlebags. I took a moment to climb up onto her back and strike a pose before she started off towards the bakery.

“Be unwavering, Spanner.” I muttered as I hopped down, jerking my head towards the room, the walls painted with cheerful murals. “Toss the place. I’m going to check for a bunker or a fallout shelter.” I headed downstairs as Cutthroat began her search, aided by Magenta.

I was stymied by another door in the basement that was like the one in the boutique, only this one was edged with pink and bore three balloons in the center. And it didn’t open for my hoof. I sat and glared at the hunk of metal - Who knew what riches lived behind a locked door? There could be all kinds of jewels...

I stuck out my tongue and drew one of my tel millimeter pistols, grinning as the laser played over the black hoof scanner. I pulled the trigger, and yelped when the bullet ricocheted off the door. I hit the floor and drew the other, pulling the twin .44s with a bit of effor. I emptied the two ten millimeters, 31 bullets, and the two revolvers- twelve .44 slugs. And still, the door stood closed. Pockmarks stippled the surface, bullets had embedded in the walls floor and ceiling. I felt myself bleeding, my chestplate having stopped a bullet or two. I sat back and opened a bottle of whiskey as I thought of how to open the door... stupid shooting not working..

“The fuck?”

I blinked and blushed as I tossed aside the empty bottle, offering a sip of a second to Magenta, who accepted it. “I saw a ‘roach.”

She rolled her eyes and passed the vodka back to me. Her helmet rested on the floor between her forehooves. “Yeah right... Trying to shoot through this door? Won’t help- SafeLock... but I’ve never seen one like this... Probably could take an antitank round and stand. You’ll destroy the bakery before you open that door without authorization.”

“... That’s a possibility.” I passed the bottle back, shaking my head. “No idea what possessed me to shoot it forty eight times. Maybe...”

Three hours later we were out of the booze, ideas, booze, and stuff to try the door with. But mostly booze. The bottom of the stairwell was filled with broken glass from thrown bottles, the twisted remains of the rebar spear (I’d tried to jimmy the wheellock with it) tools I’d used to try and pull it apart (I’d successfully taken off the cover of the scanner to reveal frustratingly durable guts) bent police batons, a shattered sledgehammer that had been tracked down by a drunken, tottering Magenta. And now I had leads attached to a conduit ripped out of the wall, trying to electrically overload the lock (Without success).

Magenta stared at the empty bottle in her hooves before watching me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Spanner.”

I Grumbled. “Forget you! I will.. will put a for-fork in the toaster... in the bathtub!” What? I took the bottle from her and went to take a sip. Of course, it was empty, so I tossed it at the FUCKING DOOR and giggled when it shattered. I stuck my tongue out as I touched the ends of the wire to the exposed electrical parts of the lock.

There was a spark, the lights turned off and came back on, and I was tossed backwards. I smelled a faint tang of burnt flesh and hair, and saw the door obstinately standing there closed. Locked. Mocking me. I growled and cursed, struggling to get up to attack it with my hooves! “You have offended my honor, and I demand satisfaction!”

Magenta touched my cheek with a cold, smooth, calming, armored hoof. “Hush... Let’s go find something else to do, you’ll think of something.”

Maybe it was the booze, or that purr of an accent... But her words lit a small fire in my tummy and I sighed. “We need more booze.” I tossed my pack onto the floor as I lit my last cigarette, adding the empty box to the trash accumulated there. I blinked as Magenta’s lips were pressed against my throat. “What’re you doing...?”

“Relax... I want to help you calm down..”

Oh. Well then. “Uh... Is that such a good idea? I mean.. stairs, glass...”

“Oh. Maybe not so comfortable.”

We made it upstairs, I know that much. I don’t remember any of the interval (I forget the worst things...) I don’t know what a bathtub was doing in a bedroom, though. Sun was high when I woke up wearing just my hat, Magenta’s chin on my belly. I went to put my forelegs around her and found myself unable to move them muc. Hoofcuffs, the chain on the other side of the pipe that ended with the showerhead. Why?

Magenta stirred, and I stared at the dyed mare. I smiled and strained to kiss her nose, her muzzle was damp with... Oh.. what’s why I felt warm and content...

She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly. She looked around, then back at me. Then to a cabinet, back to me. Showerhead, me.

I laughed. “Oh yeah, that’s happening.. I barely remember being clean anymore..”

She giggled and flicked her wings as she leaned forward and bit the knob, giving it a few turns. There had to be a good water talisman down there behind Door #2, rusty hot water that cleared after a moment cascaded into the tub. The cabinet held bubble bath that she added to the steamy water. It troubled me that I was still cuffed- what if I drowned?- but she found a sponge and began cleaning a month or so worth of assorted grime from my fur. I just relaxed and floated. Which quickly devolved into giggles and splashing. Hey- I’m ticklish, fuck off.

Our fun was disturbed by a tapping at the door and a small yellow-maned head poking in. “What’re yo- hey!” His question was cut off as I grabbed him up in my magic and pulled him closer, pulling off his rather grubby and bloodstained medic uniform. He’d been hard at work with his tools earlier and needed a bath! He struggled and squealed as I dropped him in the sudsy water and wrapped my hind legs around him to hold him as Magenta took the not-so-subtle hint and began scrubbing him.

When we were finished screwing around, I smiled and watched my brother for a moment. He didn’t look at all happy with me. We were all wrapped in towels we’d found after the bath. I grinned and dug through my saddlebags, holding out the medic radiation suit.

“Here, I don’t need it, and it’ll give your medicine skills a boost. Ditzy said once it has medical subroutines.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, ire smoothed by the gift. He watched me as he tugged the zipper open and slipped into it. There was a hiss as it sealed and filled with purified air from a talisman on the hip, a cheerful filly’s voice speaking. “Hi! I’m Puppy.SML, congratulations on receiving your SOLARIS Industries Radiation Suit Mark Six Medical Subtype! Why don’t we get your silly user settings out of the way?” He smiled and laughed to himself as he began chatting with the AI of the suit as he walked away, listening to all the things the suit was capable of.

“Magenta?”

“Spanner, I..”

I shut her up with a hoof before leaning up to kiss her. “I’ll go speak with the President alone. Call the Vertibuck crew, I’ll return with our marching orders later today. Then, I was struck with an IDEEEA! “Ditzy!”

I ran downstairs into the bakery and smiled at the mare who blinked at me from the rafters. “Needja help wit summat.”

I explained what I needed, she refused. I pleaded with her, she relented. Ten minutes later we were placing shaped charges on that FAHKING door downstairs. There was a sudden sharp crump as the wall blew out, cutting around the stupid slab and making it release into the floor and revealing the room beyond. Spanner Wrench, is best pony.

“You’re supposed to be dead. I watched two go in you.”

I blinked and stared at a griffon heavily chained and weighed down. The only light in the space was directly over her, winked off the golden eye medallion hanging from her neck, showing the bruises and lacerations dappling her muscular form. I blinked.

I remembered that face. The last time I’d seen that beak, it’d been curved in a cruel grin, the griffon standing over me with a gun to my forehead.

“I got better. One of your goons you sent arfter me wa’n’t so lucky. Shoulda heard him scream...” I chuckled and leaned against the jamb. “What a bitch... You know, I swore I’d pay you back in kind for the two in my skull.”

“Surprise took out the contract. We thought it was the beginning of a coalition, she’d been leaning towards the Reich before that, and the ordered slaughter of a Stable Pony surprised us... I was a mere instrument, same as the gun you were shot with.”

She fell silent and shifted with a clink of chain before sitting again. “Somehow, she knew it hadn’t taken. She sent bounty hunters after you, got this slaver gang after me.”

I shook my head and lifted the sledgehammer I noticed in the corner, preparing to beat her beak in. “Your story don’t wash. Unicorn that’s maybe still alive told me his group of hunters were told by a General Gilda Stormstrider that my severed head was worth a pretty bit.” I hefted the sledgehammer. “I’m going to enjoy this...”

I started to swing, and then everything stopped like I’d engaged SATS. I saw her again- Sapper. “Great. The fuck is this now?”

“Don’t.” She reached out nudged the stopped sledgehammer. “I’ve watched you just -act- for a while now. Think first this time.”

I let it fall. “Say your piece and be quick with it.”

“Think. Look at her tags. What rank is she?”

I blinked and leaned in to look. “She’s a... Major, I think. Insignia’s strange to me, but it seems like major..”

“She’s not the one you’re after. If ‘General’ Gilda sent her to kill you, she’s no different than you coming to slaughter this town. Use her to get to the General, and then you may have your revenge. I advise against it- wholesale slaughter for its own sake will not save the Equestria, and an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind..”

I grumbled and tapped my hoof against the floor, sitting back. “I.. Guess you’re right. This time.” She shook her head and vanished, leaving the world to restart. I scowled at the griffon watching my unblinkingly. Be Charitable. Great. I thought I was supposed to be Unwavering? “Change of plans. You live to see me kill the general who wants my head.”

“Uh.” She twitched enough to rattle the heavy-gauge chain holding her to the floor. I grinned and waved a hoof.

“No trouble. We’ll get you up. MAGENTA!”

A few moments and she stuck her head through the doorway, followed by the rest of her. “Vhat is- oh..”

I pointed. “Our new friend here is bolted to the floor. Unbolt her, get everyone to toss this place. Did you call the Vertibuck?”

She stepped past me and inspected the chains holding down the griffon. “Zyeh. They are in the square waiting for you.” I nodded and placed a small kiss over her eye. I loved the colors she turned. I trotted through the blasted doorway and out of the bakery itself, hopping into the open bay of the air vehicle waiting outside, making a rotor motion with one hoof to the pilots. I nearly lost my lunch in liftoff.

Time for a true crime.

Footnote: Level Up.

Perk Added: Desperado- Should we call you ‘Twoguns?’ you’re capable of wielding two Small Guns without an accuracy reduction, each consecutive firearm after reduces by %25.

Guns + 25.

Companion perk added: Doctor Wasteland, M.D. - Between the two of you the Medicine skill is extensive and respectable. Maybe reflected in your dealings with ponies.