Chapter One -- Fair Enough
“GOOOOOD MORNING WASTELANDERS! Good ol’ DJ-PON3 here with a special guest- and more news about the event that you’ve all been itching for! She came from Junction Town all the way to Tenpony, intent on sharing the details with you all- take it away, Velvet Remedy!”
“Thanks for having me!”
“I’ve come on behalf of the Followers of the Apocalypse, who are collaborating for the first New Canterlot Republic Summer Sun Celebration.”
“Summer Sun Celebration! Man, how long has it been since we had one of those?”
“The last Equestria-wide Summer Sun Celebration? There hasn’t been one since the great war; two hundred years?”
“And we’re finally getting caught up, eh? The solstice is in three weeks, you guys going to be ready? What can everypony expect?”
“We have five days worth of entertainment planned. Food and drink from all over Equestria, a market stocked with trade goods from the furthest corners of the wasteland, and a recently unearthed midway.”
“Recently unearthed?”
“A few months ago, a group of scavengers found a Ministry of Morale hub building half-buried in the middle of nowhere. Inside they found an arsenal of small rides and party supplies, and a letter from the ministry mare herself, congratulating Equestria for getting back on its feet and granting use of the equipment.”
“Creepy.”
“Agreed.”
“Well there you have it folks, the Summer Sun Celebration is coming to Junction in a few weeks time. Get planning, tell the boss you’re going to be sick; whatever it takes to make it down and greet your neighbors. Yours truly will be here in the booth, doing what he always does; giving you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts.”
‘DJ-Pon3’ switched off the studio mic, the sweet sounds of Sweetie Belle granting the beleaguered radio personality a small break.
“You’re seriously not coming?” Velvet asked. “Even DJ-Pon3 needs to take a break sometime, Homage.”
Her companion in the booth, a brown-eyed grey unicorn with a vibrant blue mane, shook her head. “I don’t think so; there’s too much out there that everypony needs to know about. I can manage time off here or there, but an entire week without DJ-Pon3 is too much for the wasteland, I’m afraid.”
“And what about you? You look dead on your feet. At least come for a few days; you’ll be at Junction Town, the place is a massive trade hub. If anything happens out there, you’ll know about it right away. I’ll ask Calamity. I’m sure we could get you back to Tenpony very quickly, if the need arose.”
Homage grimaced. I really do want to check out the festivities… no, no. I’m responsible for more than myself here. “No. I’m sorry Velvet, but work comes first. Especially work as important as this. You don’t see Spike or Littlepip skipping out on their duties; I owe it to them, and the rest of Equestria, to stay on task.”
“Hmm.” Velvet wanted to argue, but decided against it quickly. Homage could take care of herself. Besides, she had a point. One that the stubborn mare was very unlikely to concede. “Fine. But will you at least be watching?”
“Every minute,” Homage confirmed, grandly sweeping a hoof towards a nearby monitor. It was already aflurry with construction workers preparing the 'fairgrounds', a sheet of scrub land just outside of town-proper. “I’ve got the area’s SPP towers glued on the place.”
Homage suddenly frowned, spinning in her chair to regard Velvet. Work was well under way- how did she plan to get back in time? “Now that I think about it, where is Calamity? I know he dropped you off, but I could have sworn I’d seen the Sky Bandit take off again shortly after.”
“He’s helping Ditzy-Doo haul in some last minute supplies for the festival. As far as return plans, I told him I was fine and booked a spot with–“
“A caravan.” Double-Tap deadpanned, staring over the rim of a shotglass at his griffin companion, Rita. “Why am I, a bounty hunter, playing security guard for a bunch of traders? You couldn’t have asked me before you took the job? ” His raised voice drew the attention of several bar patrons- Tenpony Tower’s other, more ‘appropriate’ residents. Did I disturb their little meal? He thought. Good. Fuck ‘em.
Rita delicately grabbed a thin-stemmed glass from the counter before her, taking a sip of the brightly colored liquid within. “Because it’s going to be an easy two hundred caps, and I knew you’d turn it down.” She shot her fuming ally a stern look, then set her glass down and adjusted her loose-fitting work shirt before cracking a smile and continuing her explanation. “The group is headed to the Summer Sun Celebration, maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“Of course I have,” Tap said, resting his head in his hooves. “It’s all that’s been on the damn radio for weeks. That doesn’t answer my question- why am I babysitting a bunch of fucking JUNK-PEDDLERS for CHUMP CHANGE?!”
A chortle from across the room caught Tap’s attention. He responded as he usually does to embarrassment- violently. “You’d best shut your fucking FACE, top hat!-” He yelled, pointing a hoof at a distant bar patron. “Before I feed you that glass you’re chuckling into!”
“This is exactly why we’re taking this job,” Rita chuckled. “We’re going with that group of traders, attending that festival, and you are gonna take the time to chill the hell out. You’re way too tense.” Rita’s voice held a note of finality.
Tap knew that once she’d gotten like that, there was no way he’d be able to change her mind. But he had to try. He drained his glass and looked her in the eyes, ready to fight this to the very end. Screwing up his face, and preparing his most authorative tone for the argument ahead, he opened his mouth and bespoke “But-”
“I don’t waaaaant to go!” Blackjack whined, throwing a fit on the floor of Charity’s shop. If the filly was concerned, she didn’t say a thing.
“I don’t really care what you want- Hey! Start acting like an adult!” the young entrepreneur’s speech was cut short as Blackjack crawled forward, turning herself into a faux-blubbering pile at Charity’s hooves.
“I- I’m just so tired,” Blackjack moaned, (almost) convincingly. “After saving Hoofington, and everyone’s lives, I just want to take a little break and rela-“
“That was like six months ago!” Charity interrupted, wrenching herself free from the pile of Blackjack and walking to the till, from which she produced a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” Blackjack asked, dropping the charade.
“Your bill. Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the stuff you’ve pilfered for your ‘heroic causes’ over the years.”
“What!? I’ve never-“
“The bottle of Wild Pegasus you slipped into the box of gemstones, when you first left with Tarboots on some crazy crusade or another?”
“I paid you back for that one!”
“And the six bottles I had shipped to you in Manehattan?”
“That was a gift! You sent those to me on my deathbed, I can’t even-“
“Did you get the invoice?”
“Y-yes…”
“Did you drink them?”
“…”
“Last Saturday morning, when (in a drunken stupor) you waltzed out the front door with a dozen eggs and a cheese wheel the size of your head?”
“I am exercising my right to remain silent.”
Charity mocked slamming a gavel into a podium. That's not even right. “I rest my case. You’re acting like I’m trying to cut off your leg here-“
Blackjack pouted her lips, moaned pitifully, and pointed forth one of her four mechanical legs, which earned a roll of the eyes from Charity.
“Clearly a touchy subject. Really though, I’m not trying to force something unreasonable out of you. I just want my goods to reach Junction Town safely. The roads from here to there are still far from secure, but there’s a lot of money to be made from that trade route, and I need to make some connections… but to do that, I need someone good at mindlessly smacking people to keep the supplies intact. Besides, at the end you get to go to a fair, while I’m here working.”
The foal grabbed a pad and paper, walking around the store and taking inventory of the items contained there. “Sho shtop whining and get packed,” she mumbled through the pen in her mouth. “Wagons leave tomorrow morning.”
Blackjack moped a moment or two more, watching from between her hooves as Charity rolled her eyes and continued her business. As the filly entered the back room of her small store, Blackjack sprung into action, pulling a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and prancing towards the door. If I’m going to be doing grunt work, you’d better bet I’m not doing it sober, she thought to herself.
“That’s going on your already extensive tab!” A filly’s voice chased her out the door, breaking Blackjack’s stride and causing her to wheel around.
“Really Charity-“
“You’re no fun.” Serenity and Flare stated it together, as casually as commenting on the weather and as surely as discussing the weather, or a law of physics.
“I’ve already told the both of you, a few dozen times by now, we’re not going.” Hired turned and continued to walk, stopping again when she realized she was alone. The trio was now taking up a fair chunk of real estate- a true commodity on the bustling sidewalks of Dise.
“Come on now Serenity,” Flare grinned mischievously, pulling the light-pink earth pony close. He leaned in and faux-whispered “We really shouldn’t be interrupting her mission anyways.”
“Mission?” Serenity asked, an eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah, her mission,” Flare whispered conspiratorially. “As you can see by her bulking demeanor, robotic legs, and eyepatch, Hired is a robot sent from the future to destroy fun everywhere she goes.”
He does realize I can hear him, right? Hired turned to Serenity. Maybe I can reason with her. Hell, at this point I’d take a successful bribe. “Equestria is hundreds of miles away. Junction town is even further. Why go that far away for a carnival?”
Serenity paused, then replied enthusiastically. “It sounds like fun!” There goes that word again. “There’s going to be a ton of traders and technicians there, which means I’ll be able to check out all kinds of new stuff, and food we don’t have around here, and a Ferris wheel-“
“Best drop the Ferris wheel thing,” Flare advised with a wink. “She’s afraid of heights.”
I am not, I just don’t like them. And I certainly don’t see how somepony could subject themselves to them for a ‘good time’. “I still don’t get it. There’s all kinds of fancy robot parts walking around Dise; just bother one of House’s cronies. As far as the Ferris wheel goes, you know a pegasus. He does the same thing, just far cheaper, and infinitely closer to home.”
“Okay Hired,” Serenity sighed, slumping and lowering her head. “I understand. It’s- it’s okay if you don’t want to go, we can stay here.”
Damn it, she’s pulling this.
Flare caught on and snorted out a laugh between two hooves. Hired shot him a dirty look… which made him laugh even harder.
“-but I get it, work is important, and you can’t take even a few days off for little old me. That’s alright though, I’ll manage here, in plain old-“
“Fine.”
“What was that, Hired?” A toothy grin was already spreading across Flare's face. Hired had half a mind to punch it.
“Fine. We’ll go to the festival, ride the stupid death trap, trade robot parts, and eat all the unhealthy food you can lay your hooves on.”
“Hooray! You hear that Flare, we’re goin’ to-“
“BUT!” Hired said, stomping a mechanical hoof hard enough to draw a glance from passerby, “You and Flare will stop this ‘Hired hates fun’ stuff, and do all the planning and packing yourselves. I don’t particularly want to go anyways… and we all know you don’t want me responsible for any thinking.“
“Kay,” Flare said, scooping up Serenity and drifting lazily back down the street. “You head on home, we’ll take care of business.”
No way this can end poorly, Hired thought sarcastically. Still, it’ll probably still end better than if I were behind the reins. With all the robot-crap-vendors there, maybe I can convince House to pay for transportation, or make someone else come along. Not like I have any other work lined up. This festival really couldn’t have come at a better time... I won’t be missing anything, Serenity does something she’s excited for, and I make them realize I’m super fun. Really. Nothing to do now but-“
“Wait.” Lemon Frisk said, his ghoulish countenance already forming a wide grin. “You want me to help with the Summer Sun Celebration? The first one in centuries?!” He and Misty Cloud had just been passing through the area when he caught word that Gawdyna Grimfeathers, former mercenary leader and founder of the New Canterlot Republic, had heard of his skills and was looking for him. Him. After being rushed into her office, Frisk wasn't sure what to expect. This definitely was not it.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Frisk.” Gawd sat back in her chair, locking her talons behind her head and setting her paws atop her desk before continuing. “The Summer Sun Celebration is going to be incredibly important to the stability of the region. Initially, I didn’t even want to do the damned thing. Three weeks from now, this place is going to be crawling with ponies from all across Equestria and further. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, ponies can’t get along for shit. Things are going to try their hardest to go to hell.”
Gawd shook her head and pointed with a talon out the window, beyond the edge of the railcar-building town and beyond, where a sizeable fairgrounds was well under construction. “It is my vision that soon all of Equestria will be reunited under the banner of the New Canterlot Republic. My banner. To do that, I need something to bring them together successfully. Peacefully.”
“And to do that,” Lemon Frisk deduced, “you need this to go off without a hitch. No accidents, no casualties, only an enjoyable festival for all involved.” Gawd’s nod was all he needed. “Ma’am, you’re in luck. I’ve been an emergency preparedness specialist since before your great grandmother was born. And with my assistant and me here, ”he said, pulling Misty into a squishy embrace,“I don’t think there’s a thing that could go wrong.”
“Good.” Gawd smirked. “Glad to know that I can-“
“Trust you both to take care of things,” Gardener said, balancing a crate of vegetables upon his back. “Charm and I should return by next week’s sermon, so there’s no need to worry about scheduling anything yourselves. I’ve tended to the trees and gardens, so you needn’t do anything but water them until I get back.”
“Gardener, I swear… you’re incredibly dense sometimes.” Casa shook her head, producing a bag of baked goods from the kitchen counter and setting them in her friend’s saddlebag. “If you so much as think about rushing to Junction and back, and not stopping to enjoy yourself, you will find the gate locked and Gaucho and I conveniently unable to hear and let you in for a few days.”
Gardener’s face was suddenly marred by worry. He broke the tension a moment later with a mirthful laugh. “Don’t joke about that Casa, you had me scared half to death! There are too many things to do around here to-“
“I wasn’t joking." An icy stare stopped him cold. “You promised you’d lighten up a bit, that you'd at least talk to Charm about how you felt, but a near-fatal raider attack and two and a half years later here you are, still as silent and miserable as ever. Is it going to take another near death experience to force your emotions out of you?”
Ah yes, the raiders.A band under Red Eye’s control had found the truth of Charm’s… peculiar ability, and sought to use her powers of radiation-purging for themselves. They’d nearly destroyed the lot, and killed me in the process. He didn’t want to admit it at the time, but he’d been feeling the pull of change ever since that day. Not that he minded dying alone in service to the goddesses; a life of demanding but fulfilling labor and inordinate blessings were more than enough reward for him. It is not for me that I worry, Gardener admitted to himself.
He snapped back to reality and was pleased they were having this conversation indoors; Casa’s stare looked like it could wilt plants, and he’d put too much work into the lot to lose it in such a way. “You know as well as I do that I can’t keep her here.” Gardener said. “If she were to choose another life, I would be keeping her here. I can’t do that.”
“Now that’s a plain lie.” Casa finished packing two sets of saddlebags, slinging them across her back and motioning towards the door. “Charm has chosen this place –chosen you- as the life she wants. I know you’re no idiot, and you’re sure as hell not a coward, Gardener.” She and he locked eyes as Casa continued speaking. “Now tell her the truth, open up to her like you both want, and be happy. Or else.”
He remembered that night, as he lie there in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by the bodies of raiders and rubble of pitched battle. The look of heartbreak and sorrow on her face; Charm’s face, as she feared he would leave her forever. Try as he might, he couldn’t deny the truth; she loved him, and he must now admit that he felt the same.
She swung open the front door to the lot, the sun just rising on the horizon and the midsummer morning air crisp to the tongue. ‘The lot’, as it had come to be named, was an old used-chariot lot framed by a large wall of repurposed concrete. Greenhouses filled much of the empty space, lined within by gardens and arbors full of fruit-bearing trees. A caravan sat out front, wagons being loaded with fresh produce. Gardener adjusted the crate on his back and headed off to help. Charm was already there, lifting crate after crate into the wagons magically.
A brash young unicorn with a scarred face leaned against a ramshackle cart and shot him a poignant look. “Get your ass in gear, gramps! We’ve got a lot to ground to cover before I’m done dealing with you all.” Gardener could tell he’d been drinking from across the lot. He was about to level a response when a perky young griffin approached and waved the grumpy mercenary away.
“Just ignore him,” she called. “He’s grumpy, and certainly not a morning person. I’m Rita,” she said, bringing a wing across her chest, “and that bundle of sunshine was Tap. We’re going to be escorting you and the rest of the local merchants to Junction.”
Gardener panned his vision across the caravan. There must have been seven or eight wagons already, with more pulling up every few minutes. “Are you sure the two of you can protect so many ponies?” Gardener asked, turning to once again regard the young griffin. “The pair of you come highly recommended, but that is quite a few wagons to care for. Definitely sure to attract some raiders.”
Rita waved off the concerns with a taloned hand. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She puffed up her chest and gestured dismissively toward the front of the caravan, where the scarred mercenary in the turtleneck had headed. “When it comes to murdering stuff, Tap is the best in the business. And I’m the smartest griffon for a few hundred miles. Probably the whole wasteland. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
With a curt nod, Gardener turned and walked to a garage further within the lot. “Not that I don’t trust you, young lady,” he muttered to himself, as he rummaged through a large cardboard box, “but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
By the time the caravan was ready to go, Gardener had found his old adventuring gear- a set of thick leather barding and a harness which held two long knives, perfect to reach and throw in one quick flick of the head. He threw the harness on under his coat, adjusted his hat, and grabbed his trademark tool-of-the-trade on his way out the door: a massive, metal and concrete sledge hammer, as equally suited to smashing raiders as the asphalt which covered Equestria’s last fertile soil.
Charm beckoned him from one of the rearmost wagons. “Over here! You’ll never believe who we’re shacked up with for the ride!” Gardener gave a quick nod to the stallion harnessed at the front of the coach, then climbed aboard and dropped his hammer at the door and took a look around. The cart was a converted pre-war train, built mostly from metal but largely unmarred by rust. He noticed jovially that the floor was carpeted- a thick, blue affair that reminded him of clear, moonlit skies. Gardener looked around the interior, noticing several well-to-do ponies and Charm, sitting and chatting up a unicorn with back turned to the door.
I would prefer some more basic accommodations, but I suppose it would be rude to turn down what we’ve been freely given. Word had indeed travelled all over Equestria of Gardener’s delicious, untainted produce. He didn’t mind that rumors circulated so freely; it allowed him to spread Celestia’s word, and aid the needy throughout the wastes. Numbers for his sermons and demands for his charity had never been higher, making it all the harder to take this time off... Finally noticing her mentor standing there aboard the coach, Charm waved him over and bid him sit in the bench-seat beside her.
“Gardener, I’d like to introduce you to the Velvet Remedy.” He turned to regard the unfamiliar mare. She was a quite pretty young unicorn, with a charcoal coat and immaculate white mane streaked in gold and red. Gardener noticed her pleasant aroma- this mare had likely visited the Tenpony spa recently, at least once. One of her eyebrows arched, and he realized he had been staring. He blinked and asked her a question, his tone serious and his eyes uncharacteristically full of both hope and uncertainty.
“Is it true then? That you were part of the Lightbringer’s party, that you met her yourself? The Goddess Celestia?”
Uh oh, Velvet thought. I know all too well this kind of pony-worship... and how awful it can be when such illusions are shattered. “She is quite... regal.” Velvet replied. There was a short pause and Gardener relaxed slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Great. It’s a long trip, I’d appreciate it if you could answer some questions some time. About her.” he said, blushing and setting his wide-brimmed hat beneath his seat.
“Certainly. I will tell you everything I can,” Velvet replied, choosing her words carefully. I thought Fluttershy was an infallibly good pony, and was shattered to find out that wasn’t the case. I can’t even think of crisis he’ll go through, when he discovers that his idol isn’t a goddess.
Velvet was so lost in her concern for this pony that she didn’t even notice the trutlenecked mercenary as he passed by the cart, nor the look of outright terror and rage that crossed his face as he noticed her sitting there, the accomplice to his greatest enemy, member of a caravan he’d been hired to protect.
Double Tap ran to the front of the caravan, his mind reeling and breath coming in short gasps. He noticed Rita there, atop the lead cart, and called up to her. “Rita! What the fuck!” He wrapped her in his magic, tugging her to follow him back through the column of assorted wagons and carts. When the pair arrived at a luxurious, converted passenger train he stopped and pointed a hoof through a window, pulling her just out of eyesight from the ponies within. “Who the fuck is that?!” he whispered, his tone frantic.
“Velvet Remedy?” Rita answered, genuinely confused. “I can’t believe you don’t remember her Tap, we were hired to kill her and her friends less than a year ag-” Tap’s magic clamped her beak shut and his pupils retracted to pinpricks in front of her.
“No shit!” He yelled, casting a nervous glance around the pair and releasing the hold of his spell before continuing in a hushed tone. “That was a rhetorical fucking question. What I should have said was ‘What the hell is she doing here, because I hate that bitch?’. You know, made it easier to understand.”
Rita tsked and shook her head. “Now now Tap, don’t tell me you’re still holding a grudge against that kindly young mare.”
As if he wasn’t irate before, that surely set him off. Tap braced himself to yell, then gave a quick glance at Velvet before pointing back towards the head of the column and trotting off. When Rita caught up he began to speak, too softly for the deeds running through his head. “I'm definitely still holding a grudge. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, screaming in rage as I held the charred corpses of the closest thing I’ve had to a family in years? Ring a bell?”
Paharita made a show of thinking, running a clawed forefinger across her chin.
“RITA!”
“Sorry, sorry. It just seems like you scream a lot. Besides, weren’t they all cannibals?”
Tap cast his gaze downward and grimaced, then locked eyes with his griffon friend, daring her to argue against his logic.. “She didn’t have any proof. She shot them all in cold blood. She tried to kill me for standing in her way.” He thought back to the fight they’d had in the basement of Glade Skimmer’s home. Skimmer herself, fist-sized bullet holes peppering her charred body. Tap was never the ‘forgiving’ sort, and this was the wasteland’s crowning offense. “I don’t give a fuck what they were anymore; Littlepip murdered defenseless children in cold blood, and that bitch Velvet comforted her for it.”
Rita’s shoulders sagged a bit and she began to mull over the situation. It didn’t really matter if he was wrong or not- if she couldn’t get him to at least snap out of it and help guard the caravan, they were screwed dealing with the first raiders that came along. Even worse, they wouldn’t get paid. “Hey, cheer up. We don’t need to become best friends with any of ‘em; we’ll get them there, and split off to do our own thing. It’ll-”
“Only be a few days,” Blackjack called, packing her saddlebags with a plethora of things. Some of them were even non-alcoholic. “Then we’ll be at the Summer Star Centennial, and able to relax.”
“Summer Sun Celebration?” Lacunae corrected from down the hall, poking her head out the door with a subdued grin.
“Sure, that.” Blackjack grunted, shoving clip after clip of ammunition into an already bulging duffelbag.
“Then I am certainly attending,” the alicorn decided. “Some of my most precious memories are of such events- it would be a shame to miss the first one in over a century.”
“Count me in,” called a bulky, armored mare as she climbed the stairs and entered her own bedroom. “I’m not missing a party for anything; especially one this big.”
A voice rose from the kitchen downstairs, aflow with comprehension and mock concern. “I’m not sure we should be going. After all, when’s the last time Blackjack managed to bring us somewhere nice? For all we know, this ‘celebration’ is actually some sort of evil cult meeting, full of demons, hellhounds, and a starspawn or two - for good measure.”
Good ol’ P-21, Ever the supporting friend. Well, at least when it counts. Besides, we’ve gone all kinds of pleasant places together. Like...
After nearly a minute of silence, Blackjack realized that the others present were likely doing the same thing she was; trying to remember the last time they’d gone somewhere together and not wound up in a life-or-death situation.
“On second thought, I may sit this one out.”
“Me too.”
“I’ve died enough for one immortal life span, thanks.”
There’s a self-deprecating joke here, but I just can’t place a hoof on it.
Alrighty, one chapter down! I'm not going to do perks, because there are too many characters to keep track of and they're done to death anyways. I've begun work on the next, so look to the comments or write a comment to yell at me for updates- I'll do my best!
