Prologue: No Gods, No Masters
Come Fly With Me
Prologue: No Gods, No Masters
Thomas stood calmly as he waited for the Lucky 38’s elevator to arrive at the penthouse, bottle of whiskey in hand. He had a feeling this would happen. He was upset that it had happened so quickly, there were still so many steps he hadn’t gone through. He was prepared for the worst, wearing his Elite Riot Gear, a Sequoia held loosely in his other hand.
“About damn time you came to your senses,” General Oliver Lee said as he stepped out of the elevator, flanked by a pair of Veteran Rangers.
“I agreed to this meeting, General,” Thomas said, spitting the last word. “The answer is no, I just thought I’d make it all proper.”
“So you refuse to turn over control of the casino to the NCR?”
“I refuse to turn control of Vegas to a power-hungry, expansionist, morally-bankrupt shithole,” Thomas countered.
“Like you’re one to talk of morality.”
“I give a shit about everyone in this city. You, on the other hand, see your own soldiers as cannon fodder to be thrown at the enemy so you can stand atop a pile of corpses and call it ‘victory’.”
Thomas smirked as behind the General the two Rangers glanced at each other. He knew they agreed with what he said, that they viewed ‘Wait-and-See’ as an idiot. “Our demands are reasonable,” Lee countered.
“Your demands are tantamount to slavery. It might not look like it, but the NCR’s bureaucracy is more efficient at controlling people than any slave collar. I made a mistake, backing your cause,” Thomas spat. “I swung the odds in your favour, and this is how you decide to repay me? A knife in the back?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Moore had Crocker fired, after all he did to negotiate peace with the Kings. You claimed credit for everything me and Hanlon did, because you’re an incompetent glory-hoarding coward. Maybe I should have sided with House.”
Thomas couldn’t help but smirk as the General drew a 9mm pistol and pointed it at him. “This had gone on long enough.”
“Really? A 9mm? You’re gonna need some real firepower if you want to keep me down.” He downed his bottle of whiskey and threw the bottle over his shoulder. “I really doubt your soldiers are gonna throw themselves at the man who beat the Monster of the East to death.”
“They won’t have to,” the General sneered.
“Oh, you mean the heavy troopers coming in by monorail?” Thomas reached into his duster and pulled out a remote detonator. He flipped the cover off of the trigger. “How many men did you lose at Hoover Dam? How thin is the Senate’s patience with you? They know you’re full of shit. Hanlon may have denied everything, but I made sure that word got out that everything that went right was because of him. I know for a fact that if you throw any more men away, not even your friend Kimball can save you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Simple. I’ve been in contact with the President.” Lee’s mouth dropped open. “He wanted to thank me personally for saving him. He told me himself just how much shit you’ll be in should you fail now.”
“Y-you’re bluffing!” the General said, looking at the detonator with fear.
“Oh really?” Thomas asked, turning to look out the window. From here he could make out the monorail that linked the Strip to Camp McCarran. “Kiss your career goodbye, Lee.”
Even from the top of the Lucky 38, they could hear the explosions clearly. Thomas wasn’t sure exactly how much C4 he’d packed onto the tracks, but he had set up five of the pillars to come down. He knew that the train full of troopers hadn’t left, but he was willing to bet that Lee didn’t.
“You - !” The General raised his pistol and emptied the magazine into Thomas’s chest. The man just looked down at his body armour before giving Lee a non-verbal ‘are you fucking stupid?’
“Now I can claim self-defense,” the Courier said as he unloaded the Sequoia into the other man’s gut. “You guys saw it, he shot first,” he said defensively to the two Rangers as Lee bled out.
“You blew up the monorail!” one of them said, unholstering his Sequoia. The other started trying to save the General, but Thomas knew that it was a lost cause.
“Yeah, just the monorail,” he countered. “The troopers aren’t gonna be leaving any time soon.”
The Ranger just pointed his Sequoia at Thomas’s face. “You won’t leave here alive. Even if you get past us, 1st Recon is ready to kill you the moment you step outside.”
“You mean the very same 1st Recon that owes me about half a dozen favours?” Thomas snorted. “You can stop trying to save him, by the way,” he called to the other Ranger. “Even if you stop the bleeding, he’ll go septic.”
“You won’t get away with this!” the first Ranger yelled, opening fire. Thomas managed to duck under shot, the bullet slamming into the ancient glass that separated the penthouse from the outside, shattering it.
“Well that makes things easier,” he muttered as he punched his attacker in the throat. “If you’re smart, you’ll stay there,” he said threateningly to the other Ranger.
As the man ran through the great gap, ignoring the howling wind and sudden cold, the other Ranger decided to ignore his advice. Taking his fallen comrade’s revolver, he pulled the trigger twice. One shot found its way into Thomas’s leg, stumbling him.
“Motherfucker!” Thomas screamed as he picked himself up. He had to get away, he knew that. Groping around inside his duster, his fingers gripped around something pistol-shaped. He grinned as he pulled out his Transportalponder. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it would give him time to recover, and the Big Empty had a lot of things he could use.
“Stop!” He turned to see the other Ranger leaning out of the broken window.
“Not happening!” Thomas screamed back, pointing the Transportalponder into the air and pulling its trigger. Instead of the swirling vortex of blue energy he was used to, though, tendrils of crackling electricity shot down his arm. They didn’t hurt him, even as they enveloped the rest of his body. “Oh boy,” he muttered, moments before he felt himself get pulled apart.
Chapter 1: Birds of a Feather
Come Fly With Me
Chapter 1: Birds of a Feather
Thomas hated being unconscious. The waking up afterwards was always painful, and it didn’t matter if it had been pain, alcohol, chems or a combination of all three that had been responsible. This time proved no different, only the pain was a lot more intense. None of his limbs felt right, his hands felt weird, his face felt stretched and flattened, and his back ached like he could not believe.
He just lay there for a while, ignoring that his eyes felt like they were freezing solid. He slowly became aware of his surroundings. The sterile smell implied some sort of medical facility, though how they’d managed to get somewhere this clean was a mystery. There was the beeping of some sort of machinery, though he had no idea what the noise could possible mean. The third thing was that he was naked. Even though he was naked, though, everything felt like it was being touched through a thick blanket.
Eventually, he decided to open his eyes. The sudden clarity and detail he was assaulted with only made his headache worse. He could see every tiny hole and crack in the ceiling, every place where the paint had been applied unevenly. The only thing more shocking than the level of detail was how clean everything was. It didn’t make sense, this couldn’t be the Wasteland!
Then it hit him. The thing the Transportalponder had done, the bright lights and electricity… There was a good chance that he wasn’t in the Wasteland anymore. He sighed. On one hand, he was happy. He had escaped the wrath of the NCR, and he knew that the Kings would give them hell in response. On the other, he wasn’t in a position to help. Vegas had become his home, and being forced away wasn’t the best feeling.
He couldn’t help but snort at how easily he had managed to trick the so-called ‘tactical genius’ Oliver Lee into shooting first. The man was an idiot, and made the Think Tank look rational. The Republic, the entire Wasteland, was better off without him.
His mind returned to his current predicament. He was in a bed in an immaculately clean room, surrounded by… He took a moment to look around and noticed that the machinery was strangely rustic, unnecessary wood furnishings on all of them. He looked away as his eyes started to pick out every flaw. The important thing was that he had no idea where he was. The sooner he knew where, the better.
“He’s taking it surprisingly well,” he heard a voice say.
“What, you expected screaming?”
“Well, a little.”
Why would they be expecting screaming? Had another group decided to cut him open for fun? He raised his hand, ready to feel his body for new scars, but instead stopped to stare at it.
It wasn’t the fact that he was now a finger short. It was the fact that his entire hand’s structure had changed. What was his thumb had migrated so that it was now on the opposite side of his ‘palm’ to the other three ‘fingers', almost next to his wrist. His entire hand, and his arm to about halfway to his elbow, was covered in what looked like golden scales. Past that were feathers, a rich charcoal in colour.
“What the fuck?” he asked himself as he inspected himself further. The charcoal feathers ended at his neck, a lot longer than he was used to, changing to an off-white. Feeling his face revealed that instead of a mouth he now had a beak, a wicked hooked thing designed for tearing things apart. On the end of each finger were rock-hard talons, as dark as night. “What the fuck?” he asked louder.
“Is he awake?” one of the voices asked.
“I think so.” A door at the other end of the room opened, revealing something Thomas thought (and secretly hoped) he would never see again.
“Yeah, he’s awake,” the unicorn called back to his colleague.
“Oh fuck,” Thomas moaned, letting his head flop back onto the pillow.
Luna had seen the weapon. For a while she had refused to believe it. She doubted that he could be back, that he would take such a risk. But the leather duster, tattered and torn as it was, had been evidence she couldn’t argue against. The Courier, for whatever purpose, had returned.
As if to make matters more complicated, Discord had decided to get involved. She had heard the details straight from the draconequus’s mouth, and she didn’t like it. Discord had no right to do what he had, even if it had been, as the fiend put it, his ‘good deed for the month’. Then he disappeared with the sound of a whoopie cushion, accompanied by an explosion of chilli powder.
She had instructed the doctors waiting for Thomas to wake up to inform her when he did. She was sure that he would appreciate having his gun back, even if whatever had brought him back to Equestria had damaged the weapon beyond use. She couldn’t help but sigh. True, Thomas had been on her mind frequently, whenever she had a spare moment. His unexpected departure had left questions unanswered. She had wanted him to return. This, though, with what Discord had forced onto him, was not what she wanted.
A knock on her door stopped her thoughts. “Yes?” she asked loudly.
“Your highness,” one of her guards said as he opened the door, ruffling his wings, “one of the doctors reported that ‘Courier’ awoke less than fifteen minutes ago.”
“Thank you. I shall leave immediately.” Luna channeled magic to teleport, almost deciding to appear right in front of him. Then she decided that, given how long he had been awake, any unnecessary shock would be detrimental. So she opted for teleporting outside the private room he had been given.
The sound of something heavy crashing to the floor made her jump. “What in the heavens?”
“He… isn’t it taking it well, your highness,” one of the doctors said, wincing at the sound of several hundreds of thousands of bits being damaged.
Luna sighed. “I will reimburse the hospital for damages myself. I am sorry.”
The unicorn waved a hoof in the air. “No, no, if what you’ve shared with us is true, then his actions are perfectly understandable.” He winced again when something inside the room shattered. “Though if this keeps up I’m going to collect a few staff and tie him to the bed like we do with the more violent patients.”
“I shall see what I can do,” Luna said passively.
“I wouldn’t advise that, your highness. He might lash out,” the doctor warned.
“I’m back with the sedative!” an earth pony called out, a small tray resting on her back.
“Thank you nurse.”
“You’ve made preparations to knock him out?” Luna asked, alarmed at this development.
“If he doesn’t calm down soon, I won’t be given much of a choice,” the doctor replied grumpily.
“Let me talk to him. If he refuses to cooperate, then I will leave him in your capable hooves.” Without waiting for a reply, the princess opened the door and stepped inside, quietly closing it after her.
The scene within was one of utter devastation. Almost every machine had been smashed, knocked over or ripped apart, long gouges in the metal. The sheets and blankets had been shredded, the mattress torn open. Luna decided that reimbursing them wasn’t enough, and made a mental note to send them a donation anonymously.
Huddled in one of the corners, away from all the damage, was Thomas. He was just as she remembered seeing him after Discord’s handiwork. He was shaking, his feathers and fur standing on end as he hyperventilated. His eyes, a stunning mix of emerald and gold, were wide with fear and confusion. His wings, a mix of the charcoal grey of his torso and the off-white of his head, were wrapped around him, as if to provide warmth.
As if to make the scene worse, Thomas appeared to be rocking back and forth, his beak clacking as he muttered to himself. Luna carefully stepped towards him, making sure to not step on anything, and heard what he was saying. “Why?” He was repeating the word, over, and over again, his eyes gazing sightlessly around the room.
“Oh Thomas,” Luna whispered in a soft voice, her heart pained at seeing him like this.
Thomas’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice, but his eyes remained unfocused. “Luna?” he asked as though he couldn’t believe what he had heard. “Luna?” he asked again.
“Yes… Thomas. It’s Luna,” she said slowly, as though speaking to a small child.
Without warning Thomas leapt forward and attached himself to her barrel, his claws digging into her uncomfortably. Uneasily, she patted him on the shoulder and wrapped him in a wing. The gesture seemed to help calm him, the former man loosening his grip a little. “It will be okay, Thomas.”
“Why the hell did this happen to me?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure,” she answered. Discord hadn’t explained his logic, if it could be called that, before disappearing.
“What am I?”
“I’m not sure,” Luna said. And she really wasn’t. The front half of Thomas’s new body wouldn’t look out of place on any griffon, but the back half, the same charcoal grey as his feathers, belonged to a pony. Discord had decided to have a bit of fun and combine the two into one.
The hospital staff had done everything within their ability to make Thomas’s stay as comfortable as they could. After moving him into a new room and waving away his apologies, a number of guards were stationed outside, to keep the curious away and to keep him company. He learnt that it had been several days between his arrival and his awakening, and that he had been found in the palace’s gardens.
His belongings had been destroyed, though how they could not say. He was given his duster, torn beyond repair, his Sequoia, bent and mangled, and his Pip-Boy, the screen shattered and the casing cracked. Despite the staff’s requests to remove the items, he refused, not wanting to let go of the few things that reminded him of what he had been.
Thomas wasn’t given much opportunity to adjust to his new body, although the room was big enough for him to walk around. All fours was one thing, the pair of wings he now had was a completely different matter. He’d never really had a problem with small spaces before, but now something in him was screaming and begging to go outside.
Apart from the guards and the staff that fed him, he was left alone. That had been a bad idea when he had to use the bathroom for the first time. That had been unpleasant for all concerned. After that, a nurse was constantly on call in case he needed any help with anything.
His new eyes, even after a few days awake, were painful to see through. He was plagued by headaches as his brain was bombarded with details and information it couldn’t handle. As the days wore on, though, the pain became less severe, but still noticeable. One of the good things was that he could see things really well, which happened to include the nurses, something which worried him a little.
A few days after regaining consciousness, he was sitting on his bed, still unused to the way his body now moved. He handled his damaged Pip-Boy, gazing at the reflection in the dead screen. The eyes looking back at him were his, but it didn’t feel like it. He didn’t feel like himself. This alien body moved in ways he wasn’t used to, influenced him with new instincts, and gave him more information than he needed to survive. It was aggravating.
He looked up when the door opened, seeing one of the golden-armoured unicorns poking his head through. “You’ve got visitors.”
Thomas sighed as he dropped the damaged RobCo machine, waiting for his visitor to come in. It was a pleasant surprise when turned out to be a familiar face.
Twilight Sparkle opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted. “You got wings.”
“Nice to see you too, Courier,” the lavender alicorn said with a smile. “I was told what happened, but it’s still so different seeing it myself.”
“How do you think it feels living it?”
Twilight ruffled her wings. “I have some idea,” she commented.
“You didn’t get saddled with new instincts,” Thomas replied bitterly.
“New instincts?”
“I want to get out of this room, to stretch my wings.” To emphasise his point, he flared his wings, revealing his impressive wingspan. “My eyes are so much sharper, it hurts. More than a few times I’ve caught myself staring at the nurses.” His tone wasn’t disgusted, but confused. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Well, wanting get out and fly is natural, as you’re a griffon now. Well, part-griffon,” she added. “It’s something shared by griffons and pegasi, so I can empathise with you there. As for your eyes, it’s an evolutionary advantage, as griffons typically hunt by swooping down and crushing their prey from several hundred feet in the air. As for your… staring, well… You have the hindquarters of a stallion, so…” She let the statement hang in the air.
“Great.” Thomas put his head in his claws.
“You… seem to be adjusting pretty well, all things considered.”
“Maybe I am, I don’t know,” he said angrily. “Why did this happen? Why am I like this now?”
“Luna… she wouldn’t tell me. She was being very tight-lipped about it,” the alicorn noted. “I’m sure she had a good reason,” she added confidently.
“Can you take me to her?” Thomas asked, jumping off the bed.
“Uh… sure… I guess,” Twilight replied, suddenly very flustered.
Thomas turned to her and chuckled at her blush. “Heh. Guess I don’t need a nice suit to get attention,” he said, smiling for the first time in more than a week as the alicorn’s blush deepened. “What are we waiting for?”
