Fallout Equestria - Long Way Home

Chapter Nine-The Doors Part 1

Waking up the first thing apparent to me is the feeling of my head splitting open. Next up was my nudity and the semen encrusted blankets covering me and this furry thing laying with its back turned towards me. So, we either made the semen stains last night, or they were already there.

“Well, each possibility is terrible in it’s own right.”  I murmured.

Then my sense of smell kicked in. Yep, better go make her breakfast or something, well I kinda hope it’s a her. Degrees of awkwardness aside I got up and surveyed the room.

My gear was laying in the corner along with a duster that seemed to be the size of the person that occupied the bed alongside me. “Well, this is the second time I’ve woken up next to an alien. But that time I at least remembered getting into the bed.” So would you rather have remembered what you did in the bed? The devil’s advocate in my head said.

“I guess, not remembering isn’t worth this damn hangover.” I remarked.

Just after I finished saying that aloud, the pain in my head intensified.

I remembered from somewhere that getting water into your body would help reduce a hangover. Grabbing a bottle of water from my bag along with some light pain pills, I noticed that some were missing? Pushing that observation out of my mind popped the pills into my whore mouth, then washed them down with the water. Atleast she’s cute... Advocate decided to say think.

“They’re all cute, plus how would I even know I only remember seeing her backside…” I whispered.

Three things: First, don’t lie to yourself. Second, you know you wanted it. Third, lists are better in threes.

Distracting myself from this manifestation of cognitive dissonance seemed like a good idea. While I was equipping my armor I noticed something I had never noticed before. It was an emblem on the front of the helmet. The emblem was a crest with a horse putting its legs into the air, the crests background was white and khaki divided diagonally.

The eleventh armored cavalry regiment; that’s who this armor was made for. Now what are the odds of the this armor ending up on a world populated primarily by sapient ponies?

“Tack that onto the odds of a dimensional transient finding it, then repeatedly having his ass saved by it…” I ruminated.

I then heard the sounds of movement coming from the bed, my sentimental monologue having awoken her.

“So no round three? Color me offended.” She sat up and turned to lock eyes with me.

“Round... three?”

“So I did wear you out.” she said, stretching with her ass in the air as if she was a dog, waving it playfully in my face.

“Serves you right for mumbling about morality half the night. Though the other half was fun.” She says while laying on the bed, one hoof playing with my belt as she beamed up at me.

Black fur and a purple mane along with red eyes: If fucking aliens is wrong, I don’t wanna be morally justified. This goddamn planet is making me a xenophile by necessity... and proclivity.

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t remember anything about last night. Consequently this is incredibly awkward.” I say in a rush.

She just chuckles after I finish throwing words out of my mouth. She tilted her head slightly, still smiling at me as she had before.

“No, it was awkward last night when I figured out you weren’t just a small minotaur capable of speaking in proper sentences. To be perfectly honest, I never expected to sleep with an inebriated alien. Then again, I was a little tipsy myself.”

“So no hard feelings?”

“Well you had plenty of those last night.”  she said playfully.

It doesn’t annoy me that she’s making jokes at my expense; the lack of context on my end is the annoying part.

Time to play it off.

“Walked right into that one didn’t I,”

Come on there’s no way.

“You did that a few times as well,”

Yep, there was a way. Satan is real.

“So uh, I see you like dusters too,”

Please take the bait.

“That one has served me well over the years.” she said, peering at her duster.

She returned her gaze to me, looking slightly sympathetic.

“So I take it you don’t like innuendo at your expense.” She said the latter half of her statement in an apologetic tone.

Sensitive whens she needs to be, she’s a keeper... Spoke my demonic advisor. Not the time right now, dick.

I was in deep thought for a moment now having realized that this devil’s advocate may indeed be my dick and I had just correctly labelled him with that insult. However, I remembered I was with company and that my prolonged silence accompanied by the strange facial contortions I execute whilst deep in thought might be slightly off-putting to the mare.

“Where I come from males aren’t usually seen as sexual objects. Even in jest” I looked down and thought about the events that transpired last night. A hoof softly struck my chest and I peered downwards to lock eyes with her.

“Sorry, usually stallions like it when I make jokes about them. Anyway, I have a bounty to collect today so I have to leave. If it makes you feel any better, you seem like a good stallion.” She said before grabbing her stuff via telekinesis. She walked out of the room, turning to face me just prior to exiting in order to give me a wink.

I sat on the bed for a few minutes feeling numb. The pain meds had taken effect, removing the awful feelings of being hungover.

You didn’t even get her name.

“Yeah so what, I didn’t get a lot of things.” A few minutes pass before I finally get off my ass, grab all of my stuff, and leave the room.

I went to find the innkeeper to pay for the room... only to find out that she had paid for that as well.

Well you’re a whore: and a cheap one at that!

If you don’t stop that I am going to punch you… er... me in the dick.

You can’t threaten yourself, why are you fighting you.

Before I had time to continue my escalating crazy, a familiar griffin walked into the lobby of the Inn looking ever so slightly terrified out of its fucking mind.

“Did you see that mare walking out of here?” Nightflight says abruptly to me.

“Yes, and you seem less than concerned about where I’ve been.”

“That mare was Dusk Beam, most fucking dangerous bounty hunter in this entire region. So, yeah, I don’t care who or what you did last night; I just really don’t like being in the same city as that chick!”

She seemed pretty protective of me: I guess I was paying her.

“She seemed okay to me,” I say, my mind drifting at the thought of her name.

“What did you say to her?” She was royally pissed suddenly.

“Oh we chatted for a bit, talked about sports and what not. Oh, and we fucked. Twice, apparently.” I held up two fingers as I said the last bit, just in case she couldn’t count.

“Your choice in mares is scary.”

“It’s more like their choice in males,” I replied. “Anyway what happened to you last night? ” I ask, more to change the subject than being genuinely curious about her well-being.

“Got a little wasted, left the club, didn’t see you. Oh, I found Elvis passed out in a pile of empty bottles. I mean, he was in the hotel room at least. Didn’t get laid like you: but I’m not jealous!” She said a little too fast.

“I didn’t peg you for an interdimensional playboy, but whatevs.”

Were supposed subordinates supposed to give you this much shit about what you did? Or who you did?

“For the record, I’m ambivalent in regards to relationships with other species. I honestly never expected to be surrounded by sapient quadrupeds.” My tone may have become a little defensive near the end.

“Okay so you’re a little touchy,” She said while laughing.

“Let’s just go, I have to do something for Blurred Lines.”

“You just really like the club don’t you.” She said after we started walking towards the club.

“No I have to do a favour for the nice bartender who’s gone his entire life with the same damn music tracks.” I didn’t add the that this was a chance to prove human superiority in music.

Music is inherently subjective, it can’t prove superiority fuckwad.

“Okay, so you a have a for old stallions too,” She said before snorting.

So now it’s two on one, myself and the novice of sexual snark.

She’s just jealous of how much ass we get.

It’s flank here...I believe, other than that I agree with me. Wow that would sound really strange out of context.

“Just cause I can get laid, regardless if it was intentional or not is irrelevant, isn’t grounds for you to get all bitchy because you can’t.”

This served to get her quiet for the length of the walk.

---===*===---

The back door to the club was locked as it should have been considering it was ten o’clock in the morning. A few knocks on the door and a paranoid eye looking through the peephole got Blurred Lines to open the door.

“You got the merchandise?” He said to us from the doorway.

He looks really high… like really HIGH.

“Right here, Blur,” I say, pointing towards the screen of my Pip-Boy. “That alright by you?”

“I fucking care, so you have it in a com-compartment.” He pointed a leg at my Pip-Boy.

“He doesn’t have it on him. What are you, stupid?” Nightflight says to him aggressively.

“I really NEED it. Get the shit and we’ll talk. His name is Dexon find him. ” He said shuddering while speaking. He then spun around and closed the door. We could hear multiple deadbolts being latched.

“So he probably doesn’t need an Epipen?” I say to nightflight, after hearing that she just looked at me like I had sprouted a third arm.

“Did you see him? He reeeally needs his dash.” She said that like it was a person watching NASCAR; not condemnation in her voice, just... resigned acceptance.

“Time to find some dash I guess, you in?” I just wanted to spread some music to these wastes, damn things just get more complicated.

“This is the kind of shit you pay me for right? I kinda have to be in.”

---===*===---

We quickly found Dexon, considering any pony we asked pointed us in the direction of the towns only drug dealing minotaur.

Dexon was wearing a sheriff's hat along with flannel shirt and rodeo pants. The entire ensemble screamed bullrider, but he was a bull. So was he really really gay or really really straight? I never got an answer for that question. The most interesting thing was his sidearm, it was built for a creature with human hands. In light of these revelations interaction went about as well as expected.

“Stay here, if I need you just come bail me out. Kay?” I say to which she nods quietly. Though I could see she wanted to tell me I was being stupid.

“I need some dash,” My voice came out synthesised as it flowed through my helmets speakers, some raw intimidation couldn’t hurt. As it stood I was standing eye to eye with him, He seemed distressed by that fact alone. His distress would probably have been lessened had the my more gracial nature been obvious.

“Out of dash, come back later.” He said gruffly, his hand was no hovering over his revolvers holster.

The streets around us had thinned out by now, everypony wary of the possibility of violence. But behind practically every window sat an observer to our conversation.

“It’s before noon how could you have ran out?”

“Ask boss, Silver Tongue is name.” He looked increasingly uncomfortable, maybe he wasn’t supposed to name his superior. That brought into question what exactly he did, was he a street enforcer or a dealer? I guess he could be both; generally after an apocalypse specialisation tends to go downhill. Or maybe you we don’t know anything about the subject at hand.

“Where is he at. I really need some dash...not for me, for a friend?” I say feeling awkward. It only hit me that I was committing what would be a felony back home, in the midst of conversation.

“I out of dash, but have fixer tablet for ‘Friend’. Only 30 caps?” He said slowly like I was the stupid one. Regardless of the intelligence of the participants involved it seemed like he was pretty good at extortion and apparently some of the nuances of sarcasm.

“Fine but I get to know where I can talk to Silver Tongue.” I while I counted the caps he was looking out towards the street...ever vigilant? I wondered briefly If I could sneak an armed grenade into the bag, but I decided he would question why the bag was so much heavier and bigger. Filling that idea away for now, I handed it to him.

“He at the gun store, full metal jacket.” Is that a movie reference? Doubt it he practically sung it, what kind of fucked up place would have a jingle for a gun shop.

Is it an auditory mnemonic? With that reduced cranial capacity, he probably needs those to remember pertinent information.

As I had been thinking he had fished out the Fixer tablet, it looked like a tylenol except it was wrapped in a lifesavers wrapper. Did these creatures treat addiction relief like candy?

“Before I go I need to know something very important.”

“What want.” Did all minotaurs act like someone with fetal alcohol syndrome or just this one.

“Where did you get that gun?” A sidearm would be nice to have, redundancy is rarely a bad thing when it comes to staying alive.

“That Gun is fathers gun… and fathers fathers gun…and fathers fathers fath-”

“I get that it’s an heirloom, more practical than a ring or a piece of furniture I guess.”

After that I felt like I had exhausted all possible conversation from him , I left to go give the fixer to Blurry.

“Wow that went well, I thought you were gonna start a shoot out or somethin’.” Nightflight said as she came out of a nearby alley, startling me.

“Hey I can be fail at starting a fight, plus it was a perfectly innocent drug deal. So long story short don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

There are so many th-  My dissonating mind thought before being interrupted.

“The fuck are panties?” What she said.

“Please forget I said anything both of you.” After saying that she just looked at me skeptically. I had a thought, right then and unabashedly pursued it. Perhaps taking medication that is uncomfortably close to horse tranquilizers was a bad idea?

“Something up with you?”

“Do gryphons have problems with pony meds?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I kinda took some pain pills and may have gummed up my brain.” Jake, God King of laymans terms.

“Oh, I thought it was something serious,” she then let out a breath of relief.

Well that puts things in perspective, guess it was my own damn fault. Using alien drugs is in hindsight...really fucking stupid. This just served to bring my bunker into my mind, if I just hid in a bunker ninety-nine percent of the time I probably wouldn’t have to use alien drugs.

Those steel rangers kicked me out so they could have the bunker for themselves, assholes. To be fair though I was pining to leave that place as soon as possible. Wait...have I been running from my problems? We could now see the clubs back door, Nightflight looked relieved. They’re not even problems really, just things we find to be uncomfortable.  Now that I think about it being freaked out by Icepick’s presence was stupid. If you had slept with her maybe you wouldn’t have been left high n’ dry.

My thoughts were interrupted by a burly stallion minding his own business and our subsequent collision.  We both were sprawled out on the ground. All Nightflight did was laugh, loudly.

“Watch where you’re going, whatever you are!” The stallion yelled at me as I rapidly moved to the door. The rapidity wasn’t out of fear, merely the desire not to get caught up in yet another awkward situation.

I kicked the door at the same moment as I said. “Make your domicile accessible in a trenchant manner!”

“Okay, just stop doing whatever the fuck that was.” The door was opened promptly after that.

Nightflight just flew right in, to clear the area of threats?

“Guess I’ll just follow my associate?” I say as I stride into the dark room.

“Is every window in here boarded up?” Nightflight asks him as she walks back towards us.

“The light fucking burns,” He pauses and turns towards the door before covering his eyes with a leg. “Now close the door.”

I comply and pull out the fixer tablet. “So he was out of Dash put I got ya some fixer, Kay should give me time to fix the supply issue.” So I guess I just gave myself a job? Eh, works work.

“I hate fixer but its better than this shit,” He punctuates his statement by pointing at himself. He then unwrapped the package and popped the pill.

“Five, four, three,two,one.” I heard nightflight counting down then utter a curse under her breath. Then I hear a crash and I look to see Blurred Lines spasming on the floor. “Uh huh, I still got it...kinda.” Nightflight yells triumph evident in her voice.

“He’s having a damn seizure why are you happy,” I yell at her while moving to him so he doesn’t choke on his tongue.

“Cause thats what happens when a dash addict uses fixer, and to answer your next question he’ll stop shaking in a minute or two.” She says offhandedly while speaking in a patronising pedantic tone.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child, people where I come from don’t take drugs knowing that they’ll have seizures because of them. It’s not-”

“He’s a dash head, he’ll do about anything to get his fix. And if he can’t get it he’ll do anything to avoid withdrawal,” And with a darker tone she adds “even fixer.”

“This place really needs a narcotics anonymous, wait who even makes the drugs around here.” I ask as Blurred continues spasming on the floor, but it seemed like the spasming was becoming less powerful.

“Ponies find em’ or make em’, really not many people know where the drugs come from.” So I have to fix flow the drug problem and then set up a NA meeting in this town. This place’s economy would probably go into the recession without the exchange of caps due to drug consumption. Not to mention the anarchy from all of the hard addicts going cold turkey.

“I hate that shit so much,” Blurred said as he got off the ground and dusted himself off.

“So you want the music or not, because I actually have a time-sensitive job to do?” I ask Blurred.

    “Just follow me, I’ll show you where the terminal is at.” He says and we follow him, the three of us have some small talk along the way. He had reagined his charisma but the slight accent I remembered was being repressed. Maybe he only manifests it when he’s buzzed?

He led us into a room behind locked door, on the wall’s there was a bunch of DJ equipment along with a terminal.

“Knock yourself out, by the way do you want a drink while you work?” He said while pointing first at the terminal then he made a stirring gesture with one of his forelegs.

“It’s barely even noon?” I deadpan at him.

“Shut up it’s five O’clock in the zebra lands,” Elvis walks into the room with a bottle of rum in his hands.

“How’d you get in here?” Blurred yells at him.

“The door wasn’t even locked, and if it was that wouldn’t stop me.” He pulled out a screwdriver from his bag to prove his point before laughing semi-manically.

“Don’t worry he just gets like this sometimes,” We hope.

“So free bar?” Nightflight asks innocently.

“Whatever, just don’t get wasted in there.” Blurred answers resignation obvious in his voice.

All three of them leave some faster than others, Blurred shuffling sadly just wanting to limit the consumption of his stock. This left me either alone or paired up with myself depending on how you counted. I walked over and st in the chair near the terminal, I warmed it up briefly wondering what powered these things. Probably an internal spark cell. The terminal had an auxiliary port that just happened to be compatible with my Pipboy’s interface cable. Yeah, this place is a mirror of Dr. Stones universe.

Bring up the files the music files I was shocked by the sheer number of files that were contained within the computer. Look closer at where it says the data is being stored at!  It says the data is being stored in the external hard drive? I selected the term external hard drive; it said that the data was being stored in my brain. Well If you have that much hard drive space being wasted why not use it. What else is stored in my brain…

---===*===---

I finished transferring the files and left the room. I turned I could remember the lyrics of any song encoded in my Pipboy, that freaked me out a little bit. So the amount of connection between me and the Pipboy is enormous, it apparently records all of my activity and linked to some of my autonomic functions. Were these normal features or were they some gifts from doctor stone?

I walked into the main room of the club to see everybody participating in some wholesome ‘Social Drinking’.

“Hey bums want to go to the gun shop with me?” I ask my assembled acquaintances.

“Hell naw, just after you got some new music in,” Elvis answered quickly.

“What he said,” Nightflight said to me punching elvis in the shoulder playfully.

“Sorry gotta keep these guys away from the hard stuff, and I wanna hear the new tunes too.” Blurred says while shrugging apologetically.

“Don’t you want some equipment Nightflight?” Appeal to shopping and it’s being used on a female, infallibility in 5,4,3-

“Can’t we do that tomorrow, we’ll buy stuff later right Elvis?” Nightflight says before looking at the helmetless Elvis who nods and grins.

I may have stormed off after that while flying the bird. “I have fingers and I don’t even know what that means” I hear Elvis say as I forcefully close door behind me.

I look down at my inventory screen and I see my accumulated caps; a couple thousand in total.  Icepick would shop with us, probably.

“Yeah,” I say to not quite me, drawing a few more glances towards me.

“Never seen an alien talk to himself before?” The glances stopped about as close to immediately as you can get in this world and perhaps any world.

---===*===---

Full Metal Jacket clearly was a gunshop before the war and continued to hold that distinction a full two centuries later, brought a single solitary tear to my eye when I realized this. As I walked inside I saw some posters of firearms of the Ironshod line, along with the faint smell of years of accumulated gun oil I could tell I liked this place already.

“An exotic customer here to browse our fine wares?” An off white stallion said from behind a counter further back in the store.

“Silver Tongue I presume,” I say to him. The guards standing in various places tense up slightly as I walk nearer to him.

“You would be correct, mister…?”

“Just call me jake if you want. Really I came here to buy a sidearm with a handle suitable for someone such as me.” Turn what charm you have...to grease the wheels of commerce?

“So you want minotaur grip weapons? That can be arranged.” He then walked into the backrooms of the place leaving me with the guards. Don’t get too cozy, he seems shady. Please, everyone in this place is shady.

“So uh, guns am I right?” The guards didn’t seem amused, one of them just blew some of the hair out of her face and looked annoyed. We like em’ butch right? No, not right now perhaps never.

Luckily Silver Tongue came back into sight carrying several weapons with him.

“You wanted a pistol, correct?” He asks for confirmation again, in a tone that had a hint of being saccharine.

“Yeah, what did you bring me?” He responded initially by setting a handgun on the table.

“I have a five point five six revolver, forty five caliber automatic and this isn’t a handgun but I have a forty millimeter grenade launcher attachment for a gun like yours.” He sounded pleased with having someone to sell this stuff to.

“Hypothetically how much would it be for all of this?” Let him give a baseline price to start things off.

“With some ammunition and spare magazines for the forty five included three thousand caps.” Yeah with the condition that the revolver was in, thats not happening. So no bartering with the cute grocer, but all the bartering with this guy.

“How about the grenade launcher and the forty five, say twelve hundred caps?”

“I’ll give them away seventeen hundred and i’ll throw in two spare torty five magazines,” He seemed to have given me something of an ultimatum .

“If I don’t buy these guns they’re gonna rot in the back room for decades, I mean how many customers do you get for minotaur grip weapons; twelve fifty.”

“Minotaur grip weapons are very rare, sixteen fifty.” I spotted a bead of sweat on his forehead, thank the maker for my full face helmet. Wearing it ninety percent of the time we’re awake does have advantages.

“A piece of dragon shit is rare, but does that make it valuable? Hell throw in some leather armor and a nine millimeter for a gryphon and I’ll give you fifteen hundred bloody caps.” I set show my hand to him and he seemed content with the deal. He made an employee grab the griffon gear. While I was counting out the caps, (my inventory sorter subroutine doing the work) I decided to ask some pointed questions.

“Dexon told me to talk to you in regards to the lack of Dash in this town.” I let out that convoluted statement with a little flourish.

“That brahmin fucker, what did he tell you.” he was pissed now, like really pissed.

“Just to talk to you. The guys a brick mentally and physically, I don’t think there was any i’ll intent.” Why is everything adorable here when it get’s angry?

“He doesn’t have celestia damned intent he is a fuckin’ brick on a good day.” He looked bemused for a moment before he turned to look towards one of his guards; coincidentally it was the butch female one. “Take care of Dexon, preferably quietly.”

“Right away bos-” She said gruffly before I interjected.

“I’ll take care of him I guess,” I say. Work is work, that’s the mantra right. Dick wanted to spit in my face I could tell.

“You could probably take him down if you wanted to, you’re hired. Less connection to me the better, already got Pearldiver breathin’ down my neck.”

“Uh, Silver sir… I got the merchandise.” The employee from sent to grab what would soon be mine said to Silver. She was pink with a Crimson mane, seemed smaller than most ponies.

“Give him the shit, he’s gotta go real soon.” Vaguely threatening but was it aimed at me or her. I had already placed the caps on the table in front of us.

“Before I go, have you ever heard the phrase ‘no body, no crime’.” He was now staring at me with a dubious look on his face. “Well, I can do that. Just need one us those white phosphorus grenades.”

“Yeah, whatever just get it done then we’ll talk about payment.” He said before leaving the room to go do whatever in the store room.

In the process of grabbing all of my stuff I put the forty five in the holster that once held my ten millimeter long ago along with putting the loaded magazines in one of my bandolier pockets. I want a mirror, what's the point in looking badass if you can’t see yourself.

I then grabbed all the rest of the stuff, throwing the grenade launcher in the bag for use later. The leather armor I slung over my left shoulder; the nine was in a baggie with some mags ammo and a cleaning brush, that I threw in my backpack.

---===*===---

I entered the club to drop off Night Flights new stuff. Upon entering I happened upon her making out with Blurred Lines; so she either likes em’ old or he’s some sort of pony charlie sheen. Elvis was sitting at the stereo controls gently bobbing his head to whatever was playing. Just happened to be something by disturbed, strange. But, not that strange.

“So you want your shit,” I loudly say to nightflight who was in the the process of intertwining tongues with Blurred.

“When the fuck did you get here,” she says slurring her words. Mental note keep them away from booze.

“About an hour, been watching you two and fondling myself.” The look of simple horror that registered on her face told me that she wasn’t good at sarcasm detection when she was intoxicated. “No, I just came by to give you some equipment and to say that I’m gonna be gone for a few hours. At the best,” She seemed satisfied with that and went back to heavy petting with Blurred who just tipped an invisible hat to me.

I heard some clanking movement to my right and saw Elvis walking up to me.

“You got a job to do, what is it poisoning the well or somethin’.” He said in a low conspiratorial tone.

“What could possibly make you think I accept such a job?”

“Just checking to see if you had something fun to do, anyway what’s the job anyway.” He says the former half jokingly then takes a more sober tone with the latter half.

“Assassination I guess, I don’t know if it fit’s in this situation though.” He beamed at me after I said this. ( His helmet still wasn’t on.) This seemed like a good time to explain my plan to him. He lost his grin after the explanation, but he seemed happy just to get some kind of action. Blood Knight much?

---===*===---

Dexon was standing in pretty much the same location as last time, the only real change was the barely perceivable changes in the suns position beyond the cloud cover.

We had put on all of our armor due to the chances of the plan going south. I approached Dexon without a weapon in my hands, hoping that the scope on Elvis’s rifle worked.

“Okay we need to talk, privately,” I say to Dexon as I approach him.

“I still out of dash for ‘friend’, still want words with Dexon?” He says to me, I hope he takes this the right way.

“Yeah, I wanna talk with Dexon.” Please just comply, it’ll be better for all of us.

“Fine, boss get angry at me for moving from spot I take out on you.” Anxiety quotient increased by fifty percent.

We stay silent as he follows behind me, I really don’t like having him behind me.

“Before you do anything just listen to me please, it’s for your own good.”

“Talk,” He replies tersely.

“Okay when I talked to Silver, he got angry that you told me to got to him and well he was going to have you killed.” He was frothing with rage when he charged me horns first. The impact sent me to the ground, and before I could do anything I entered VAT’s without activating it myself and pulled out my forty five. I then exited VAT’s without deactivating it myself, time was passing at a crawl for me as I watched Dexon pull out his gun as well.

“I took the job so I wouldn’t have to die, I can lie and say that I killed you.” The words flowed out of my mouth as we had our own private mexican standoff. His face’s contortion born of rage slackened just a bit after I didn’t immediately shoot in the window between the drawing of my weapon and moment he drew his own.

“In that way you get to escape with your life and I get a chance to infiltrate your former employers.” I say as quickly as I could and also have the information conveyance of the words not be compromised.

“So not want kill Dexon?” He said not understanding the concept of mercy and how it applied to his situation. A solitary beam of coherent light kept his neurons from ever understanding, mercy and everything else ever again.

I went into vat’s laying on my back in an alley on an alien world, but I didn’t activate VAT’s of my own volition. I dispelled it as soon as It fully manifested, However in the process the vast majority of emotion surrounding the last few minutes of life was thrown to the back of my mind.

I sent over to the corpse of Dexon and grabbed his hat and his gun. Activate the white phosphorus and get us out of here. Was he even a dick or was he the antithesis of my mental state at the time. At that thought my train of thought moved forward to collide with guilt about Dexon’s accidental demise. Not now, it can wait.

The smell of incinerated flesh wafted out of the alley, but nopony took any real notice about it. Just another day in wastes, just be happy it wasn’t you killed in an alley.

---===*===---

   “I got him just in the nick of time, right?” Elvis said to me back in the club, where we planned to meet up in the case of every contingency except us being chased out of town.

My silence was was seen by him as a reason to keep drinking, he was going to be wasted just as the club opens its (main) doors.

I could hear noises coming from Blurred Lines office and with Nightflight clearly not in the main room; the conclusion wasn’t hard to make.

I had Dexon’s hat in my bag along with his five five six revolver, I set off towards Full Metal Jacket. The sun was going down, but as always you could only tell by the increasing dimness outside, seeing as shadows were pretty much nonexistent.

Before I crossed the town, I sat down on the stairs leading to the club and ate. You never miss clear skies until you’re deprived of them.

---===*===---

I walked into FMJ, Silver Tongue was at the counter loading rounds into an assault rifle magazine.

“I did the deed,” The ill gotten hat was sent flying towards the back counter, at the same time as this everybody except me, Silver Tongue and the employees left the store in a hurry.

“Do you want an award ?” Silver says while inserting the magazine into the assault rifle. The sound of him putting a round in the chamber is the noise that by default is the loudest sound that could be heard.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” My voice has more sarcasm in it than I thought was possible. In response Silver begins laughing, loudly.

“I like this guy he has some balls, something you ponies lack.” He says after his short lived laughing fit. The urge to kill him was nigh insatiable, but I kept it reigned in somehow.

“So do I get my payment now?” The pertinent question was asked in a cold tone.

“You want a suppressor for your forty five?” Damn he knows one of my weaknesses.

“I need more than that, how about that and two hundred caps.”

“On the condition that you do some more wet work for our organisation,” He held out hoof to me.

I can break ties with them anytime I want to, besides I need to get in deep before I can kill this asshole.

“Deal, but I stay an independent contractor.” I say this while extending my gloved hand forward to bump with his hoof. Should I keep my companions in the dark about this deal. Probably for the best, I can just tell Elvis that was a one time thing. Eventually they’ll find out I mean they’re only utterly oblivious when there’s alcohol around. But by that point I’ll have fulfilled the ranger mandate.

“We can work like that if you want, but you won’t get access to our dental plan.” he said in a mock saddened tone.

“Is the dental plan a bottle of whisky and a bloke with a rusty hacksaw,” I say.

“Close but no cigar, it’s a bottle of whatever Curb stomp can make in her shitter.” He smiles at the joke, but I sensed there was certain amount of truth in this jest.

“Silver I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, and don’t try to send anybody to contact me. It won’t end well, let’s just leave it at that.” I say with saccharine warmth, by the end of my statement Silver had fetched the silencer and caps and had just finished pushing to my side of the counter.

“Okay, see you tomorrow associate,” He says darkly.

I seize my newly aquired caps and silencer and walk out into the night. A hotel bed sounds good right now. Maybe we should pick up a bed warmer at the club first? Nah, we just need to do some maintenance and modification on our guns.

---===*===---

The quiet of the relative quiet of the night does little to stop the feelings of guilt this day produced. I can’t blame Elvis for shooting he just followed orders, still Dexon may have been a drug dealer. But as far as I tell that occupation is like being a mailman here, almost painfully mundane. I guess the mailman occupation has less violent shootings, wait...going postal. Yep, we accidentally killed a mailman analogue whoopty fucking doo. He was mentally challenged! So he made up for it by being scary muscular, it’s not your fault his luck ran out.

The door to the Inn lobby was coming ever closer as my thoughts ran in the recursive loop consciousness tends to run in. I paid for a room to use, and ventured to the room in question. I sat on the end of the bed and put the silencer on the forty five, I left the grenade launcher off for no reason. No there was a reason It just wasn’t very logical, it felt wrong to modify such an exemplary gun.

After that all that was done was a light meal out of my stores and descent (or ascent) into unconsciousness.

---===*===---

Upon awaking the first thing I did was check the bed for extra occupants, unsurprisingly I was the only being on the bed. Sadly, we both like some extra warmth when we wake up.

You’re right as usual, more right than usual though. As I got off the bed and began to stretch, I wondered how I already had a baseline for my personified dissent. My normal routine of equipping my gear, was getting quicker every time I did it. The machine augments it’s own casing.

Yes, what are you trying to get me to think about? I thought as I went about fastening the cross brace between my shoulder pauldrons. You haven’t thought about the augments for awhile, why is that?

Why should I think about a part of my own body, it’s just some replacement parts. Maybe you should be more wary? Why do you care? Just been digging through our memories, takes a while sifting through that much data. Okay, thats fine I guess but can you tell me what exactly you are?

You are aware of countless subconscious processes that are happening every second we exist? Subconscious behavior and conscious awareness of such action, yes  indirectly of course. In almost all instances, a single consciousness is the state that the human machine creates.

However we both know that sometimes a human can have two different consciousness entities in the brain at once; usually only one can manifest at once.

If they both manifest at once, the dissonance between them is a enough to make the brain as a whole decide which gets to be the one that get’s to be the metaproccess.

We disagree more times than we agree...wait are we getting the same base input?

Not really we think along basically the same lines, if you had status reports about your digestion, your energy output whether it be from respiration or fusion,-  Fusion?

What do you think powers your augments? I didn’t think they were powered by a nuclear reactor!

I don’t worry it’s safer than cellular processes, given the fact that they aren’t given partial self awareness. So you’re my replacement spine? No i’m an amalgam of different subconscious processes that became conscious with the help of some soft AI contained in the implants and Pipboy. So we get different data and our actual processing taking place in different places make us both self aware and capable of interaction with one another.

Finally we all get it, coexisting entities existing in different loci within a larger system . So you get to ‘control’ over reactor output and kidney function, whereas I get control over genital usage and facial recognition. Now let’s go do some murder that guy, yay. So yesterday you were just giving me mirror images of my thoughts, and now after some memory digging you gain more self awareness at the loss of sounding like you know interpersonal interaction. Idiot savant in roommate in my own head, toddler like understandings of empathy combined with logical brilliance.

At that moment the door was kicked opened and a shotgun was fired at me through the doorway as the door was still swinging open. Several pieces of buckshot struck me in the chest luckily they lacked the ability to penetrate. Rolling off the bed I drew my pistol and I saw my attacker just long enough to get have another round fired at me. The second salvo had several pieces of buckshot dig into my legs. The shotgun wielder was a unicorn buck wearing leather armor and he was wielding a lever action shotgun. I activated Vat’s and had a fifty-seven percent chance to hit him in the chest.  Lying on your back and firing from above your crotch really screws with your aim; I found out as only one of my shots managed to connect with my attacker. Still he was thrown back with enough force to knock the shotgun out of his (magical) grip. I picked myself off the ground just in time for his horn to reignite and the shotgun to begin rising off the ground. A double tap to his torso was enough to keep the shotgun out of his ethereal grasp.  I almost doubled over in pain as the effects of the buckshot became apparent.

Vat’s activated of my roommates volition and he targeted the stallions head with the final two bullets in the gun.

We’re not cleaning that up right? Shut up, in pain. I laid on the bed and pulled out my doctors bag. Lemme try?

---===*===---

I put threw the empty healing potion bottle away after chugging the contents.

Nightflight had ran into the room, a minute after I started pulling the projectiles out of my legs. Elvis Arthur came into the room soon after, and helped me with cleaning the wounds. I let out a sigh as my legs repaired themselves, Nightflight turned to face me.

“I’m gonna search the corpse,kay.” She says while gesturing at the corpse in question with a single claw. Were my mannerisms rubbing off on her?

Corpse looting without abandon or pointing with a specific digit?

“We gotta get to my place soon,” Arthur said after sterilizing my surgical instruments for me.

“Is it a bunker by chance?”

“No, but it’s secluded and very dank.”

“So in a swamp then?”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty much untouched mansion.”

“You had a fucking mansion and you didn’t tell us!” Nightflight entered our conversation like a misunderstood country annexing some sudetenlands.

“Conversation never got to the subject of homes, and don’t yell it’s unnecessary.” He was a lot more defensive than Elvis, if I interpreted his actions correctly that is.

“The size of your home isn’t the point you brought it up, right?” I ask, in response Nightflight glared at me for changing this conversations focus.

“I Have a workbench and tools there, and a washboard. You really need to repair your armor,” He switched tactics to pleading “okay maybe just wash the blood off.”

I looked down at my pants in response, yep covered in reddish brown stains. The stains increase the camouflage value of our clothing.

“You were joking about the washboard right?”

“Why would I, how else would you wash clothes?” Arthur let out quickly.

“What if I told you that there exists a machine that does ninety nine percent of the work for you.”

“I’d call you a dirty liar,” Nightflight responded with venom.

“First off we’re all dirty here Night, second there exists a machine that does washing for you.”

“Thats truly amazing, but can you explain why someone tried to kill you?” He was less than concerned with household technological advancements, but quite concerned with assassination attempts. Attempt being the operative term, we could have died.

“I have no ide-” I say before Nightflight interjects.

“He’s got a bounty notice…damn ten thousand caps,” she says before I go over and take it from her.

      10,000 CAPS

Wanted: Tall Alien

Goes by  “Jake,” although it also uses other titles.

Armed, Armored and Dangerous.

Dead or Alive

I was keeping this; on that note where could you get something framed in this place?

“I wanted to read the rest!” Nightflight say squawking incidentally near the end.

“Last time I checked the bounty was on my head, don’t worry you’ll get your sloppy seconds.” The second long look of revulsion that crossed her face was non-commodifiable. “By the way do you know anywhere I can get it laminated.”

“What’s lamination,” Both of my drunkard associates asked simultaneously.

“You can keep power armor and energy weapons functioning but you don’t know…” I rubbed the bridge of my nose at one of the nuances of this strange land.

“Weapons and armor are practical, If ‘lamination’ was important we could do it.” Arthur said vehemently, making me wonder how long he had been living here.

“Okay you’re right, we really need to go and do a Job I picked up” I say in a tone of concession.

“What job, wait is it related to the bounty on your head?” Arthur asked quickly, he’s quick witted.

“Maybe, I really don’t know who issued the bounty. I really only fight terrible people, then again slavers are terrible and have some caps to work with as well.” I answer his question with just a small lie of omission. So you think pearldiver had something to do with the shotgun assassin?

“Jakes right he probably just pissed off some slavers, I mean he didn’t do anything stupid like kill some enclave pegasi.” Nightflight said to ease anxiety, but the look of pride I gave her upon her saying ‘killed enclave personnel’ didn’t ease her fears at all.

“YOU FOUGHT THE ENCLAVE?” she yelled.

“They fought me, I just have a habit of winning.” I say smugly, I didn’t say that I was close to broiled alive by their weapons fire. I watched that… I understand why you would practically sell our mother for AP rounds.

“Where were you at when you killed em’.” Night Flights interrogation procceded unhindered.

“I just got out of a toxic underground base filled with alien monsters, that I set to explode.” I paused letting that sink in, partially to see whether I had told them this information before. “And when I got out they were practically waiting for me. My main advantage was that they were overconfident, mainly about their armor I doubt they thought anything I had could penetrate it.”

“Wait theres an enclave here and they use power armor?” Arthur asks quietly, not wanting to draw the ire of either of us.

“Yeah, why does it matter. Their just a bunch of assholes with wings hiding up there.” Nightflight says her voice angry not at us, but the Enclave.

“Do they have aircraft?” Remembering the plane I saw the day after I left the ranger bunker.

“They have these things called vertibucks,” She leans closer to us conspiratorially. “I heard about some pony seeing a really big cloudship, size of a building.”

“Is there anyway to take one of those down?”

“The vertibuck… nobody really tries to take em’ down cause they don’t really do anything. The bigger ones; you should just get away quickly.”

“Didn’t you say we had a job to do?” Arthur interjected, perhaps he was tired of my questions.

“Well If you guys want to come, then come on time’s a wastin’.”

---===*===---

A griffin a Human with multiple personalities and an increasingly nebulous mixture of meat and metal that would probably be classified as a transhuman entity arrive in front of a gun shop run by drug pushers.

   Why did they go there you ask? Because they already spent the better part of two days in a bar already.

“So when we get inside I need you to stay in the shop, while I go and talk to silver tongue.”

“I’m being paid to browse a store,” Nightflight said under her breath.

“Oh and arthur take this gun.” I hand him this gun.

“I’m not really good with guns, you better just sell it.” He said, his self confidence had dropped ever since he had heard me say that I had a gun for him. Is subconsciously trying to differentiate between himself and Elvis? That sounds probable, occams razor am I right.

“Keep it just use VATs with it, besides if he can shoot than you can too.” I say to him before he grabs it from me and stuffs it in his messenger bag.

Nightflight hadn’t waited for us, and as we walked up the few steps towards the door I noticed the lack of ponies on the street. Racist fucks…That was vulgar, just experimenting sorry.

I entered the shop with arthur trailing closely.  The uneasy looks the guards gave us made me took some of the sting out of being avoided by the townsfolk.

Intimidation value aside it seemed silver tongue wasn’t expecting my entourage, the look he gave me wasn’t encouraging.

“Jake, buddy why don’t ya come back with me and talk business with me. By the way good initiative coming here early.” The saccharine tone he was using turned my stomach. He was bad news, yet you decided to work for him.

I have a plan, just roll with it. No, we have a plan and hopefully it goes better than the last one did. Don’t bring that up, I think resolutely.

“Be there in a second, silva” I say letting a little of my terrible ghetto dialect through subtle insults aside, I don’t like this guy.

Nightflight gives me a questioning look before going back to looking at a knife display. Why does she want knives if she has talons? I dunno maybe trying to look like she isn’t anxious about my safety.

A short walk later I’m sitting in a chair across from silver tongue.

“So are you that eager for work, or do you just like the atmosphere here.” He says in a way that feels like he’s trying as hard as possible to befriend me.

“I’m lookin to leave town as quickly as possible. On that note do you know why a guy a pony broke into my room and tried to kill me?” Put some pressure on him should his friendly facade.

“What did they get away?” He replied in a way that made him seem genuinly worried about my safety. Damn I’ll take overt hostility over faux-friendlyness everytime.

“No, I gave him a terminal case of bullet-to-the-head-itis.” I was used the most proffessional tone I had and he still burst out laughing. Wait… would he laugh at my jokes?

“Mare, you’re exactly what I need.” He says with a hint of mirth still evident in his voice.

“Why is that?”

“You’re scary, shoot first, and you’re capable of crackin a joke.”

“I also cook chems in my spare time,” I say sarcasticly, he lit up genuine smile and all that good stuff.

“You’re joking right?” He’s seeking validitation, this doen’t fit the plan.

“No, I’m actually profecient at chem production. You want a sample of my products?”

“Hit me,” He says before smacking a hoof on the table before us. I pull a syringe of psycho out of my duster. You know if he uses it it could kill him? That would facilitate my goals without the amount of bloodshed that going in guns blazing would cause. So yeah if he doses himself with it and it kills him then we aren’t gonna shed many tears.

“You made that?” He says skepticly.

“Damn right I did. I just need some base chemicals and some medical supplies to make more.” I say with more pride than I probably should have had.

The rest of our converation revolved around his organisation being cut off from chems by crucible caravans. This was a recent problem their new management was doing some interesting activities apparently. One of these dubious new activities was cutting off the normal chem supply to Silver Tongue. When I asked him why he had no answer he was just pissed at the action itself. It turned out he didn’t want to start a war with the stronger crucible caravan company, he just needed to continue selling chems.

“It keeps the caps comin in,” He said with a shrugg as we concluded our conversation.

“In that vein I feel as though I could do some manufacturing for you, if and only if you could provide me with facilities to do it in.” For as long as the supplies I had grabbed from that hospital lasts, but I didn’t need to add that.

“I have a set up in a building outside the walls,”

“Okay I’ll make all the chems I can, But I expect to be paid well.” My voice came exactly as mechanized as I liked it to be.

“I have more minotaur grip weapons.” So being paid in guns, how fun.

“Fine, I’ll be back soon enough.” I say as I leave the room and pick up my compaions from the showroom.

---===*===---

We decided to go get lunch in a secluded location before we I could tell them what I had learned and decide our next move.

“So to put it succinctly, I have no idea what’s going on around here.” I let the honesty of that statement sink in for a few seconds before I continue speaking in between bites of some meaty stew. “I say we just make some chems for this guy and try to obtain learn about the crucible caravan company in the process.” I say after telling them all the relevant information I had learned.

“Tell me you have a job for me?” Nightflight asked trying not to pout, did she just hate feeling useless?

“Um… why don’t you try to arrange a meeting with Pearldiver or anyone in a position of power within crucible caravan.” She beamed at me for that.

“I’m I just following you then?” Arthur asked abruptly.

“Unless you have a better idea, then yeah I’d like someone to watch my back.” I answer immediately.

“Just wondering,” He said a little cryptically.

“Nightflight we’ll rendezvous at Blurred’s place in two days, now come back with some intell. Oh and try not to get shot up your health insurance only cover one doctor… and that doctor is me.” My toothy smile was by itself a good reason for her to get the hell out of there. Arthur waved as she left us sitting alone in a secluded corner of the diner.

“Let me get this straight; your master plan is to get between two sides in a cloak and dagger battle between two commercial entities.”  His deadpan was well placed, damn.

“If we come out on top then we’ll have the resources to work with, If we come out of this with some more allies I don’t really see a problem.”

“You’re making chems for a dangerous pony, besides making yourself and by extension me more visible is a bad idea. Remember the bounty on your head?” Now he was being patronising.

“First off doing anything in this place is dangerous. And don’t think of making the ‘don’t sell your soul’ argument; even If I believed in such things I think the alcholic has no moral high ground.” I respond with venom.

“Fuck off, It’s not that your making chems it’s the fact that your doing it for that guy. He’s bad fucking news, and we don’t need anymore of that.” He says resolutly before getting out of the chair and walking out.

Synthie you got any input, cause I’m kinda tapped out.  That’s your name for me? Why do yo get to name me anyway? Because I’m kind of your creator, besides can you one up in regards to your name?

Silence is concession as they say, so he conceded. Before I left the place to try and placate arthur I bought some water and food from the restarunt owner.

---===*===---

We left the township proper through our secret entrance, though secret may have been a misnomer. The fact that they didn’t inspect the walls routinely was commented on by synthie, he thought it was stupid. The idea that the only way to get my robot roomate back to speaking terms was observing unintelligence.

Arthur stayed silent even when I showed him the grenade launcher I had picked up. I even offered to mount it on his laser gun when I got to a workbench. You just want to give him a weapon he can hit a hostile with.

The map location silver had given me wasn’t more than an hours walk away, if you could take a straight path. We were surrounded by the slightly irradiated ruins of a large coastal city. At some point I began to notice the distinct lack of inhabitants, but I stowed that thought away in favour of helping sythie figure out motor control. Having a backup consciousness that could kick in when I was incapacited would be nice.

“Hey Arthur how many shots for that rifle do you have left,” I ask with something like genuine curiosity and partly to break the silence that had come between us.

“I’ve got around seventy shots in three microfusion cells.” He said mechanicly because my question was genuine yet he seemed to want to make it clear that he didn’t want to talk to me. Why is it that my companions always give me the silent treatment? Well from what I observe the conclusion I draw from your actions is that you’re a ‘dick’.  And how would you know this? In my own observations and looking through your memories I have derived general guidelines for interpersonal interaction although they aren’t comprehensive and are improving even as we speak. You approach speaking with others as a chore even as you try to use them to facilitate your own ends. Really from what I’ve seen….

Okay I get the picture and for the most part your right, as far back as when I woke up I’ve been a permadick*. But that's justifiable, isn’t it? Wrong being to seek validation from sorry, well I partially retract what I stated. You did genuinely enjoy your time with Icepick…

Perhaps If I hadn’t been having a serious discussion with my bodies other inhabitant. She was the first person here to show me any compassion really, she’s a budding intellectual like me. So yes being friends with her was quite likely. Don’t lie to me or yourself, you feel some attraction to her and some of it is physical.

You’re deadset on this, can you tell me why? I want my you to be happy, if only because if you have something to fight for here then you would act more friendly to everyone around you including me.

Can I ask you a question, what are your goals? Unlike you in past I have a clear goal; keep you and by extension me alive. There is always room for other goals, but that is my main goal. LIKE RIGHT NOW…

I saw what he was referring to it was a pack of rotting corpses that still were capable of locomotion, they were twenty meters away at best and closing from the end of the street before us.

“I hate fucking ghouls,” I heard Arthur say as he pulled a frag one of the grenades I had given Elvis a couple days before out and lobbed it at the screaming horde.

Epilogue came into my arms almost automatically, I flipped the safety and began to fire at the abominations heads. A zombie is a zombie right?

My shots paled in comparison to the damage to the explosions elvis unleashed, until he ran out of explosives. But by then we had become a shining beacon to every ghoul in the area.

^Crack^ ^Crack^^Crack^ ^Crack^ ^Crack^ ^Crack^ ^Crack^ ^Crack^ *click  I had already emptied a magazine at the quadrupedal abominations. And they just kept coming; elvis had pulled out his rifle and was attempting to shoot at them.

“Let’s get out of here…” I looked at the street behind us. The things were trickling out of manholes and small crevices in the rubble. I racked the freshly loaded gun, before making a decision. “Um… a fix bayonets and charge.” I yelled before I started running forward; into the horde.

“This is a bad idea!” Arthur yells back as breaks into a sprint, although it was more of Jog. You know what, it’s the the thought that counts (even in matters of imaginary bayonets).

“I know,” I respond as my brain flips from conversation to self defence

When I had a ghoul in my way I perforated it with Epilogue and when that ran out I slipped slung it over my back and pulled out the forty five. As I did that I saw a ghoul out of the corner of my eye, rushing at me. I was knocked to the ground with the thing on top of me, it attempted to rip my throat out but was stopped by my kevlar neck protector. I tried to force it off as it was tearing at the protector, but both of our activities were futile. My knife was out of the question and the forty five had been knocked away from me.

Out of desperation I punched it in the face only to have the necrotic flesh open up and dump congealed fluids over my face. Fuck I can’t see, I thought before the thing was knocked off of me. I immediately wiped my face plate only to see Arthur beating the ghouls down. Then I felt broken molars ripping into my leg, the same ghoul had gotten back up and had found a better avenue for attack.

I thrust my leg up and knocked it back while I frantically felt for Bowie. Just as I found it the ghoul was now looking face to face with me seeing as I was on my knees. It might have had some sort of thought in it’s mind before I drove Bowie into the monsters comically oversized eye socket. While I had my melee with the single ghould elvis had crushed several of the things heads in with his gauntleted hands, not to mention his feet.

I had time to look at my ichor covered comrade before the next wave of zombified equine ran at us.

“Can I borrow that knife?” He asks panting inside the powered suit.

“Only if you give me the handgun,” I answer quickly.

The weapon exchange takes only a few seconds but we we were on the clock, the ticking of the clock was the omnipresent sound of hooves stomping on the cracked asphalt under us. I found the forty five and holstered it before drawing a bead on the closest ghoul. ^Crack^ I forgot that I had loaded hollow points into this gun, the ghouls head being gone pointed towards this conclusion.

Vat’s was activated and used to make a few more of the things headless. Our forward momentum had been lost as the two us of just tried to keep ourselves from being surrounded. The red bars in my compass didn’t help our moral, all told we had down two dozen of the things but there were at least twice that still converging on our location.

I’m going to run out of ammo, shit. No weren’t, just keep going towards that map marker. I put broke into a dead sprint as his thoughts rang in my head. Seeing my action Arthur followed behind me, any ghouls I rendered non functioning with the silenced forty five.

Before we could get to the safe house a ghoul climbed out of a manhole; It was glowing green. Before I could perforate the thing It launched itself at me with it’s wings, fuck this thing has wings. Luckily arthur saw it as well and jumped between me and the pegasus ghoul. The metal encased human was knocked to the ground, the ghoul was in a position where he could get any leverage to knock it off of him. Synthie activated Vats and targeted a double tap to the things head, as time became what most call normal the gun went off twice.

Ghoul ichor now covered Arthur from head to toe, and now some of it wouldn’t stop glowing.

“You’re all set for a rave,” I quip as I help him up.

“Yeah maybe theres a market for glowing pony corpses,” He responds with sarcasm even in the face of terrible circumstances.

“We should look into this,” I say as we continue our mad dash to the hopefully safe drug lab to escape the animated pony corpses. Wow, my life has kinda gone to shit. Absurd shit… but shit none the less.

After another couple minutes of furious running through the ruins of an alien city, the  sun I could tell was approaching its zenith in the sky. The clink of my armor could be heard pretty easily, whatever stealth isn’t my modus operandi anyway. Wait, what is my modus operandi?

“Hey Arthur, what’s my modus operandi?” I yell at him.

“What?”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” I let out without betraying my inner mirth. He just turned his head towards, I’m pretty sure he’s glaring at me. Damn it, this is my problem in a nutshell. I’m a smart buck if I could just make some sort of long term plan, it would probably hasten my returning home. Wait ‘smart buck’ am I being picking up the nuances of the native language? …Stop going off on tangents me, just think for a moment, what are my goals.

Find a way to return home? Thanks, wait is this just the conscious manifestation of a day planner subroutine or something? Whether it is or isn’t is beside the point, obviously you need some help even if the help only amounts to helping you push past the unpleasantness of our circumstances.   Well in that vein I’ve kinda allied with a faction that has experience with high technology. Alongside that is the the research facility and the alien power cells I pilfered. Most of the Applejack’s rangers are ambivalent at best towards you and one is confused about your intentions in a markedly different way. The alien base was a mixed bag, you acquired intelligence about another base and some ammunition for an alien weapon. At the cost of alerting a powerful militarily and technologically to your presence and capabilities.

Destroying that base was the only option at that moment, letting truly alien life into this places ravaged biosphere could have been disastrous. But that’s beside the point; anything that breathes chlorine and is carnivorous is terrifying, therefore If I can kill it… it

shall be killed. For your safety or for some altruistic impulse?

“This the place?” Arthur said loudly through his speaker grill, breaking my conversation with synthie. The building he had referred to wasn’t really a building anymore, at least if you came from a place that had building codes and other hallmarks of a society that hadn’t (yet) gone to shit. It appeared to be the remains of an office building, the remaining portion in question was a the ground floor of the place. On closer (visual) inspection it looked like the place had been reinforced post bombing with sheet metal and some poorly utilized cement.

“It looks slightly more intact than the all the buildings around us. So yeah it’s probably the place we’re looking for.” I say while tentatively inching closer to the building. The far off (but still way too close) howl of an irradiated pony corpse was a good reason to keep up with arthur, who didn’t seem to fear the dangerous structure or the ghouls.

The inside was less ramshackle than the exterior, perhaps the outsides general shitiness was a tactic to dissuade scavengers. In what was at one point a secretaries desk was a chemistry setup with hot plates hooked up to spark batteries haphazardly. That along with the nearby workbench covered in various tools gave me some hope of actually making some adequate product. Product being a euphemism for horse narcotics.

“Time to see if I remember anything from last time,” I say as I remove my helmet and start a thorough check of the manufacturing equipment.

“You don’t seem all that confident, how much experience do you have making chems again?” He says as he looks through the chemicals he had taken from the hospital pharmacy.

“I was kinda successful the last time I went at it. Well, at least if I fail then there’s always plan B; shoot up the joint and try to avoid ending innocent lives.” I say quickly with a despair filled humour in my voice. Yeah, my life has changed. And how much of the change is merely adaption to new circumstances? Or have these the basis of my actions been waiting all of my thinking existence for a chance to manifest. The Id expands as the super -ego retracts, or I suppose the variance between your instinctual desires and the reality around you has lessened. That would of course lead to a shift in your self perception, and how you subconsciously view reality. How traumatising is waking up in an alien world? Less than you would thin… have I been keeping myself from fully realizing my situation?

“Hello Jake, the supplies are on the counter.” He said loudly enough to gain my attention before voicing what seemed to be an afterthought. “While you’re doing this can you give me that grenade launcher?”

Maybe you take off all of our equipment to get the grenade launcher out, not to mention our future comfort.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” My shit equipment is swiftly on the floor, and arthur is over by the workbench making an abomination in weapon form. On a whim I checked the airwaves for any radio signals. The self righteous pony D.J. was on but it seemed that Red Eye wasn’t;beggars can’t be choosers.

As I begin to make some Jet/Dash the disc jockey started another song cycle, and I kept on working, but something nagged at me.

Why would sapient ponies even know what a jockey was, nevermind have a word for such an occupation?

---===*===---

By the time I had completed my tasks I had learned that the rebreather in my helmet was as useful to those who wish to break laws as it was to the enforcers of said laws. Or stated differently it kept me from being affected by the fumes created in the production of chems. Also the D.J. had all told about a dozen songs, they weren’t bad by any means, it’s just the lack of variety get’s on your nerves after a while. Besides I had to listen to him and his obsession with this stable dweller and her great crusade.

Arthur by had found a cot a while after he finished affixing the grenade launcher to his laser rifle and had done some equipment maintenance for me and himself. He was quite skilled with a needle and practiced at patching up clothes. I think he found some cotton and leather scraps in this place; thusly he did me a solid and repaired my pants and duster.

So the circumstances required me to emulate Walter White, I was making something that seemed very similar to crystal meth without pants on, but with the necessary respirator. I leaned up against the bench for a while before the impulse to field strip and clean Epilogue became irrepressible.  There really isn’t a reason not to clean it, the only motive to leave Epilogue dirty was a lack of motivation. Motivation to do things that in the long term keep you alive aren’t all that hard to find. Or so I found out.

In the end I had a clean rifle and a clean pistol, cause I mean don’t show weapon favoritism, you love them all in different ways. Or is that children? Whatever; I never lack the metacognitive ability to know I need sleep immediately. I found a dingy couch that looked slightly more comfortable than the floor. I remember laying down on it the morning after, and nothing else. Presumably sleep took me the moment I got comfortable.

---===*===---

As I awoke a great urge struck me, I needed to take a leak. Thusly I did. After walking back into the shitty building proper I spotted Arthur putting his armor back on.

“You wanna leave already?” I ask quickly.

“This from the guy who thinks the place is gonna collapse an second?” He answers quickly before locking his helmet to his armor.

“I got over that, kinda.”

“To be honest I don’t like being this close to the sea, I don’t like this place.” He said cryptically.  Should we inquire? No, we shall not.

“You got any destinations in mind, other than away from the sea apparently?” I say conversationally.

“I get to pick where we go?” He had ignored the latter half of my previous statement entirely.

“Yeah, and what we do within reason of course.” Give the submissive personality some power what could go wrong?

“I heard there’s a stable in this city, and I kinda need a water talisman.” He said this casually, with an accompanying hand wave as though this was a mundane task.

“If this is so you can add a piss recycling system in your armor, then yeah I’ll fight to make that dream a reality.”

“No, I just want to replace the mansions water talisman. Also why would I want to drink my own urine?” His plan made sense, I mean I assumed he had a more utilitarian application for a universal water purification device. If we brought a few of these talismans we could solve fresh water demands for years to come, not to mention giving the third world clean water. That would be nice, but all this is predicated upon us returning home.

And that is unfortunately turning out to be hard goal to facilitate.

“It was joke, but I like your goal.” He wanted to speak after I responded But I cut him off by speaking again. “So you wanna eat something analogous to breakfast before we go crusading?”

“Fine, but I get the sugar bombs.” He said acquiesceingly.

---===*===---

“Do you have any idea where this ‘stable’ is located at?” I ask Arthur as we exit the building having eaten our fill of shitty but edible pre-war food.

“Okay I heard one time that all the ghouls in the city were from stable that had a reactor failure… okay a catastrophic reactor failure. So logically if we find the largest pocket of ghouls then it should point us towards the stable.” He answered reluctantly for good reason.

“More zombie ponies, along with a crawl through an irradiated hole in the ground… count me in.” I say offhandedly. He had begun walking in a direction that was random, but away from the nearby ocean. Jake follows the man in black (armor).

“Huh, I was expecting you to whine about doing this.” He said more for his own benefit than for mine.

Are you trying to avoid acting annoying? Maybe today I just wanted to roll with what my companion wants to do. And be but in a potentially deadly situation once again? If I stop doing ‘dangerous’ acts then I’ll be stuck here forever, if only because anything that can poke holes between worlds is probably inherently dangerous. This seemed to shut synthie up for awhile at least; I then turn on the DJ pony to give me something to make fun of.

It had been after a couple songs and  a soundbite about the stable dweller that we came across the first ghoul in the decrepit cityscape. Arthur made an attempt at running at it (my) knife in hand, but a suppressed forty five shot made that effort pointless. After exiting vats I gave him a nod when turned to look at me, my shit eating grin wasn’t apparent behind my helmet but it was there nonetheless.

“Did you see what direction it came from?” I ask my companion who hopefully was oblivious than me.

“I think it wandered in from that coffee shop,” He said pointing at a Pony Joe’,  before setting off at a brisk pace towards the donut shop. Fuckin’ franchises stealin business away from family owned places. Where did that come from? Whatever no system can fully understand itself so why make the effort.

By this point we had walked into the ruins of a shitty corporate coffee shop; did comedians in this world make jokes about the amount of pony joe’s before they dropped the bomb. But I had a side job to attend to.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked as I rifled through the back room searching for the elusive coffee bean(s).

“By some act of divine providence do you have a coffee maker and filters at the mansion?” I answer his question by asking another question.

“There are a lot of appliances in that place that I don’t pay any attention to.” He said this before my searching became louder to continue his answer he got louder himself to compensate. “I HAVE NO IDEA IF I HAVE ONE OR NOT.”

“If you don’t have one I’ll be saddened but not crushed, anyway I got the shit let’s continue this quest.” I say to Arthur before palming the forty five once again.

“Do humans from your homeland speak like you?” He asks honestly as we both get moving again.

“No and usually they make a bigger deal about my erratic speech patterns than anyone has here, now that you mention it. Damn does that make us like the smallest minority on this planet?” I say this as we walk through a the ruined back door of the shop and into a dark alley.

“Yeah were a minority thats obvious why does it matter other than the difficulty of finding equipment that works for us?”

“That means I can make racist human jokes and not single person can stop me.” I answer with triumph evident in my voice.

“Remind me why I’m following you again?” He responded with what I hope was good humour in his voice.

“Well right now I’m following you, and to be honest I think us humans should stick together.” All four of us? Yes, if only to make the statistics seem more in our favour.

A ghoul popped it’s head out of a broken window to growl at us, but was cut short by a incisive Vat’s shot to it’s head. Were we getting closer to the heart of this cities ghoul problem? A moment later another ghoul began crawling out of a man hole only to be kicked back down the hole by arthur. The kicker then pointed at the manhole and pantomimed ladder climbing.

“Are you sure about this? I have night vision do you?” I ask for confirmation despite my feeling that he genuinely wanted to crawl into a sewer.

“They’re obviously coming from the underground, which makes sense given the fact that all stables really are advanced bunkers. Just come on you said I get to do the thinking today.” He advanced his logical conclusion and by extension his plan of attack without a hint of desperation.

“I’m only doing this because the last time I went underground I came out with a badass story to tell. Then again If you're with me I’ll have to give up some of the credit…” Instead of responding vocally he just began descending down the hole, and after that rousing speech I kinda had to follow him.

Why not let him get a headstart? I thought before I pulled out the forty fives magazine and began to reload it with some forty five I had in one of my clothes pockets. Keep all weapons at their highest level of readiness at all possible times. Wow I should write that down seems like a useful survival guideline. I chambered a round and holstered my forty five before descending into what must be a horrible abyss.

---===*===---

The place would have smelled like two century old horse feces if I hadn’t turned on both my night vision and the helmet’s rebreather mechanism. It appeared as though my eyes were glowing and I was making raspy, deep breathing noises akin to that of a severed handed Sith who had a bit of a falling out with his estranged son. In all honesty, I probably looked (and sounded) terrifying. Arthur didn’t comment on my glowing eyes; he merely pointed at the ghoul that had taken a fatal fall down the manhole, courtesy of a swift kick to the torso. I would say even in his more docile state, Arthur’s personality was bloodthirsty. To be fair, ghouls didn’t really bleed; they just kinda popped like a barely held together meat balloon.

We didn’t exchange any sentiments regarding the latent death of our ghoulish friend. As we made our way through a spacious yet unsurprisingly disgusting sewer, a ghoul would occasionally wander around a corner near us, resulting in its prudent demise from either a careless bullet from Jake’s .45 or facing an impromptu matter transition from ghoul to ash via Arthur’s laser rifle. It was only later on that we got spooked. We had just gotten around a bend in the sewer when we heard the sound of brisk running, except the running sounded bipedal. As soon as we were aware of strange nature of the noise, the sound stopped and then the scraping noise of a manhole cover being lifted was then heard by the both of us.

“You don’t think that was another human right…” I let my voice trail off as his reticence answers my question just as well as a statement of affirmation.  I might have felt a chill down my spine If I still had a biological one.  If that was indeed a human then there could be a gateway around here…  I know you’re new but try not to jump to conclusions. Aww fuck that A way home and it’s kinda close, time to move.

I broke into a sprint in the direction that the sounds came from. It was only a minute later that I came across a massive gear shaped door with the number thirty three emblazoned on the front in yellow paint. I looked around and noticed that the entrance had a terminal attached to the wall. After a moment of waiting for the thing to turn on, Arthur jogged into view.

“Don’t do that again,” He said sternly even as he watched the terminal’s screen activate in all of it’s sickly green glory.

“Yeah” I repeated three time similar to what a jew might do. “I got a terminal to fuck with so can you, I dunno, play sentry for me?”

He turned around and placed his rifle into his hands. Next up was playing with a terminal. This terminal was hard to hack, but after five attempts I figured out the password to get administrative privileges.

Discordia…

Why did that seem somewhat familiar?

The screeching sound of a massive steel gear echoed throughout the sewer system after I gave the open sesame command. So the originator of the noise either had nothing to do with the door or knows the door password. Arthur stepped into the stable entrance and stepped onto something. He stepped on a pony skeleton clad in the remains of a jumpsuit. I kneeled to examine the corpse more closely, spotting a small slip of paper near the corpse. It was a password, that’s for certain; but not the password that was in use now.

Auschwitz.

Nine letters: just the same as Discordia.

This has to be a sick coincidence right?

“If there is an answer I fucking intend on finding it!” I yell, only to see Arthur turn to look at me from the entrance to the rest of the vault.

“Should I be worried?” Arthur asked as I got back to standing.

“I think something sick is going on here. Now do you want something like an explanation?”

He nods.

   I place Epilogue into my hands before walking up to him. From there, we begin to explore the stable with me trying to logically explain why I felt in my gut that something terrible was going on around here. I was rather unsuccessful… until we started finding things.

Every few minutes we would find bunches of corpses thrown into closets or anyplace that was out of the way. Arthur found this to be disturbing and proof that someone had to actually pile up the bodies. However, he said it didn’t prove anything truly evil had happened here.

I held my tongue from saying that it hadn’t happened...

It was still happening.

---===*===---

I searched through the first aid box only to find the thing was empty; like all the others had been, along with the infirmary.

“Another empty one... you have any luck?” I ask him as he was searching through the duplicate box in what was once the little fillies room. Fuck this planet and its analogous gender naming system.

“What do you think?” He answered (and asked) with just a touch of anger.

“You better share that holy grail you just found.” I answer with some sarcasm as I move back to the darkened corridor. We had been moving in a downward direction in our exploration. He remained in the lead for the majority of the dreary descent; yet he seemed to not be headed directly towards where we would find the talisman. Mayhaps he felt that going to maintenance was a bad idea and was drawing it out intentionally. Whatever the reason was, I felt indebted to it.

“I’m not going to ask,” he said as he began walking forward. Once more, the servos in his armor were quite audible in the silent husk of a bunker. I let the issue lie as I followed him down the stairs into the atrium. My first impulse was to see what was left on the upper half of the atrium complex. A few choice words later and we were standing on the other side of what a plaque indicated was the overmare's office. The door had a terminal nearby it... only, when I tried to activate it, nothing happened. When I backed away from it to think about how I could reconnect power to it, Arthur smacked it and the thing fell apart. I was about to yell at him when I noticed that there were no electronics pieces scattered across the floor.

“It’s an empty casing with a screen attached… wha what?” I stutter out something that resembled a question but was more an expression of “what piece of the puzzle am I missing?”

“This must be the shoddiest stable ever created…” Arthur’s remark along with his subsequent laughter made him appear more scared than he was trying to seem.

“As lovely as this place is, could you be a doll and open that door?” My voice had a tone conveying both sarcasm and desperation blended together to describe just how much I hated this god forsaken place.

He set to work at the lock, while I just stood there trying to figure out the greater plan behind this place. A few minutes later the door slid open and I turned to see an entirely empty room.

“Well that was a lot of work for nothing, broke two bobby pens in the process.” His attempts to play this development off with humour were becoming annoying. “Guess it’s time to go yank out the talisman.”  He concluded with a noncommittal shrug. Was he trying to get me to pull rank and leave this place?

“Let’s just do it and get out of here,” I say as I begin the journey down to maintenance with Arthur in tow. While we walked I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being observed. There was no mechanism for observation (none that I could see) so these feelings were illogical at best. No, parent paranoia that’s what it is… probably.

The door down to maintenance was cleaner than any of the other doors in the upper levels. It slid open with a small hiss revealing an immaculate workspace: desks covered with nondescript papers and office supplies. It was an empty cubicle farm that must have been built after all the ponies here were killed.  When I examined one of the papers I found out that all of the documents were written in foreign script.The only difference between the place and any cubicle farm in the states was that all of the pictures framed or otherwise were turned upside down.

“You don’t want me to flip the lights on right?” Arthur asked from across the vast expanse of the room.

“Yeah, keep’em off,” I said quickly, not wanting to be blinded by my own night vision.

“Can do. Uh, by the way, how long are you going to take messing with those desks?”

“I’m already done. It’s all written in cantonese or something thats all hanzi,” I say before throwing a couple of the documents in my bag at random.

I look at him as I stand back up. As soon as I finish doing this, an high pitched squealing followed by an immense explosive sound resonated throughout the stable. It had been centered in the direction of the reactor. As I ran towards the scene of the explosion I knew that the explosion was near the reactor, but it hadn’t been the reactor itself kicking the bucket. In that case, this place would already be a smoking hole in ground already. Pleasant thoughts all around it would seem.

I stopped in front of the reactor chamber door. It displayed a radiation meter reading off the ‘sparkles’ per second that were permeating the stable at large. It was eighteen ‘sparkles’ a second… if those are equivalent to REMs, then even just from the lower levels present outside the maintenance area I should have been dead multiple times over. But I’m not dead or, even nauseated for that matter. Elvis isn’t affected by it either. I had time to postulate that humans were immune to the magical radiation at play here prior to Arthur tumbling down the stairs like the drunken fool he wasn’t.

I helped him up while he let out a moan. As he got to his feet, he spied the radiation meter and then proceeded to bang his left arm against the door.

“If it doesn’t register here, then it’s not going to kill us,” He pointed at my Pipboy’s geiger counter which was only capable of measuring REMs.

“So we’re fine then?” he asked, sounding more scared than he would have liked. The prospect of dying a horrible, delayed death didn’t exactly assuage our fears surrounding the rest of this place either. Whatever the case, some answers had to behind this door.

Arthur loaded his grenade launcher before I pulled the door open. The hum of a coil studded reactor drew my attention above all else in this mostly empty room. We entered quickly; I moved away from him to examine the reactor, Arthur moved off towards a hole in one of the walls. That was strange, but the impulse to study the magical reactor was too strong. It gave off a small amount of visible light every few seconds. In one of the shadows created by the intermittent light a small plaque was attached to the thing. The plaque looked ordinary to the point of it being conspicuous it could have been on a toaster or a refrigerator.

North Canterlot Positronics

As soon as I read the name those three words began to reverberate in my mind. I remember that name from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it. It all fit together I knew it did but I couldn’t think of how.

“Have you ever heard of a place called Thunderclap?” Arthur said to me before I turned to look at the hole he had gone to examine. Upon even a cursory examination it was obvious that this is where the explosion heard previously had occurred, given that a large chunk of wall had been torn away to reveal an extra room. The room contained some ruined machinery attached to a metal door frame; the door laid against the wall behind it, hinges missing. Why was a door hooked up to machines sitting behind a false wall in the bottom of stable turned tomb? Or even better why did the door say…

“TO THUNDERCLAP STATION” Arthur started saying in a booming voice that would have fit a train conductor just fine.

“Do you think this would have taken us to Thunderclap. wherever that is ?” I ask slowly my voice filled to the brim with trepidation.

“Yes,” He responds simply.

“We should check for more falsetto walls?” I ask him quickly seeing as we were both doing a lot of information processing. Besides why drag out the down to earth stuff, leave all the spare time to trying to figure out what was behind the state of this place.

“Fine, but don’t expect this to be quick,” Arthur says as he walks toward another wall of the hexagon shaped chamber. As soon as he arrives at one of the walls he proceeds to punch it, once, twice and a third time.

“I don’t think that one is hollow,” I say before getting up and walking over to another was.

“You think?” He says sardonically “Or there could be some device that makes all the sounds coming from the walls identical.”

“Or there could have been only one door, wait can you give me my knife.” I said before Bowie was embedded in the wall by Arthur. He had thrown the knife hard enough to embed it into fucking steel plate.  I yanked it out of the metal with some effort and then asked Arthur a pressing question. “How the hell did you do that?”

“VATs, it does have a setting for throwing weapons you know. Wait you didn’t know that?” He answered smugly then he proceeded to laugh at me. It goes without saying that I was tempted to try this out by throwing bowie back at him. Then I remembered that If I did such a thing It would make me very hypocritical, being a smug asshole Is my secondary goal in life and to not let him be the same thing on occasion would be… wrong.  Wait, have a been an actual dick? On occasion, you have perhaps most prominently was your altercation with the scribe in that pony base. By the way now I understand why most beings sleep, it is rather enjoyable.

I sigh before looking at the wall that had been pierced, “I think there’s another door behind here, so uh help.”  I could manage two conversations and going all shining on a fake wall at the same time right?

   “So do we try to find a hinge or seam or something?” Arthur asks before rapping the steel in front of us with a (gauntleted) knuckle.  Based upon his the strength that his armor gives him he should be capable of tearing the steel open at its point of weakness.

   “Go punch at the point where the knife penetrated, then try and tear it open I f you can.” I say before standing back to watch the steels behavior as it was being by pulled apart Arthur and his power armor. After some time and a few grunts from Arthur I could see a single corner of door. I moved to help him and together we bent the sheets to the point that we had clear access to the door. This door wasn’t metallic and lacked the machinery around it, the strangest thing was the lack of a posted destination on the front. On the door instead was a faded sigil of a star surrounded by streams. I felt a need to touch the door it, as I moved my arm towards it I could feel a slight electric charge flow through me.

I traced the carving with a finger before pressing my gloved palm against the darkened wood. Arthur stayed back he seemed more wary of the door than I was. There was an attraction between me and the door, It felt like the moment when you don’t remember seeing someone before, yet you feel like have met before.

“Is that really a good idea?” Arthur asked as I grasped the doorknob made of darkest ebony.

“Is a light shining in the darkness a good idea?” I say before trying to open the door to no avail. A pervasive thought registered in my mind ‘not today, soon’ ‘not today, soon’ ‘not today, soon’.

I pulled my hand away from the door knob and the looping thought left my mind. I would be back, this place is important. That much was obvious… wasn’t it?

I shake my head before turning to face Arthur.

“You know where a water talisman would be located down here right?” I ask him to which all I get in return is a tentative nod.

---===*===---

Several hours of pulling pipes and maintenance systems apart later we found a small blue gem that I felt was little recompense for the amount of effort required to retrieve it. All of that aside the thought of a clean shower at Arthurs place was enough to stay to bring a smile to my lips.  As I walked with a silent companion that I would hesitantly call a friend through a nearly silent tomb of hundreds, I entered the palace of my own thoughts. I felt that the forces at play here were still in the dark, but someone was slowly bringing such things into the light. Even If the person bringing these things to light was doing it solely for their own benefit? I wasn’t guarding what I was learning, I would answer questions to the best of my ability. Yes, I would answer any question I could, for knowledge isn’t free, but thats really all I have to give.  I’m not deluded, I don’t have a messiah complex, I don’t really understand sacrificing my own life for a cause. But, I seem to be pretty good at figuring things out and adapting to new situations as they arise. Albeit most of my solutions involve violence, but it’s very rarely a matter of choice. I’ve missed something ever since I woke up in that blood stained room. I believe it was some guiding principle I had determined for myself back home… but the past is ever hazy. The lack of memories prior to this nightmare is indicative of something. What though? Was little if anything from that part of my past worth remembering? I felt a small part of me believed this. If nothing there stood out as memorable then why am I…

That  question was too painful to follow through with thought, and at that a small part of me screamed “hypocrite” to which I could only concede to. Perhaps to distract me from those deprecating thoughts, what I had wondered about about earlier drifted lazily into my conscious mind. I had at some point called myself many a things, but the only one that ever seemed to truly stick was “Inquisitive”. I had prided myself in the past on my ability to question things from any viewpoint I had available, and in that way I would detach myself from the question. Somewhere in the same ballpark as objectivity; obtain the answer the most true answer then add back in the self. Get the answer then apply it to yourself and anything close to you. Was this my greatest skill? No, it still is the closest thing to a talent I have. Funny now that I think about it, a human who feels most happy when trying and to some extent succeeding at separating himself from their own humanity, (because separating themselves from the rest of mankind is hardly a challenge), finds himself on a world filled with people yes, but non-humans all the same. The stable door was left open as we left but it was payed no mind. Have I lost the will to wonder why I have will? NO!  Nobody has ever benefited from leaving a question left unasked.

I followed Arthur in a daze because, my mind was turned inwards, this being the same mind that on some level I had a conspiratorial proposition in which everything other than my own mind was a distraction created with malicious intent. Then again who would put the brain in the jar isn’t asked, because conspiratorial subconscious doughts don’t usually have a train of thought attached to them.

“Why do I even want to go back to such an unmemorable place?” I whisper to myself in the darkness of a sewer on an alien world. Integrate self once more, and finish the recursion loop once more. A questionable goal with no clear method to facilitate the goal…

“Fucking wonderful !” I yell as I let everything sink in. If Arthur noticed my out of nowhere (to him), outburst then he gives no indication of it. Really now that I think about it, I should have remembered to forget. Why that’s the kinda logical clusterfuck that I always took a perverse pleasure in thinking about. Wait, where’s the little robot that shares a chassis with me? Eh, Probably asleep. Is he a newborn? Why, do I think Synthie is male? Am I going to keep questioning things in a manic manner indefinitely? Okay, calm down me.

I let out a deep breath which was incidentally basically the same air I had been breathing for the last few hours ( I had let some fresh air into the system while I was in the stable). Perhaps letting the carbon dioxide buildup in the system would calm me down? Nah, I didn’t need to turn an effective rebreather system into the worlds most complicated paper bag emulator. With the dry pragmatism of modifying equipment I had (temporarily) lost the edge of what some would call my corrupted virtue. At it’s simplest (to me) I had felt for the first time the inner conflict between what I had become (and was becoming) and my older less grounded self.  I continued to remember and think about both events pre and post TBWS. (That between worlds shit). I was playing the game of introspection as Arthur led the both of out of the sewers and into the ruined streets above. He led me in the direction of the city we had bummed around in for the last two days.

We had a rendezvous to get to and he hadn’t forgotten that, punctuality is a good a trait in a person. Hmm...maybe I should have gotten a concrete answer on when to collect my caps from the steel rangers? Or perhaps remembering to give pearldiver that letter in a timely manner?

Nah, I’ll do it when I feel like it. Laziness aside while we walked I had a few false alarms on my EFS, strangely they were marked as neutral. Almost as soon as they appeared on my radar, they stopped showing up. If this isn’t a glitch, then how does this neutral mark know how to avoid being identified? More to the point if they exist why are they attempting to keep hidden? Are they just terrified of us? Questions: 3 Answers: 0 in this round, time to play.

“COME OUT, I PROMISE NOT TO SHOOT YOU AS LONG AS YOU STAY NEUTRAL IN MY IFF. AS FOR HIM, EVEN IF HE DOES SHOOT HE PROBABLY COULDN’T HIT YOU ANYWAY.” I yell… smoothly.

The rapid scurrying noise that followed was a response I suppose, along with a snort from Arthur told me what I needed to know. We were being observed by a timid non-hostile, a native (the clip clop as they ran gave that much away). A native, where are we victorian africa?

Ignoring that remark I walked over to where I had heard the rapid scurrying, on the ground my secret admirer had left a pair of binoculars. It was a pony; no other creature would need binoculars with lenses the size of dinner plates. What evolutionary advantage would there be in having massive eyes? Could they see better in the dark… like a cat?

Upon examination the binoculars had the words “Equestrian Naval Property” on them.

“So it seems our voyeur is a navy mare,” I say to arthur as he takes the binoculars to examine himself. Damnit their dialect is pervasive.

“You called it,  for what it’s worth. Now come on, some extra sleep would do you some good.” He called before turning back towards our previous heading, after I did the same we marched back to town.

---===*===---

             We entered the city as the sun’s light was waning in the sky, the hole in the wall still hadn’t been discovered. Ninety nine percent of the time I’m against blaming the victim, but if this town got raided I kinda think they would deserve it. Or maybe I’ve make a habit of being borderline psychopathic… keeps people on their hooves. Fuck, toes?

As we walked the darkening streets he guided us in the direction of Full Metal Jacket. It seems he wants to get the drug dealing over with. Before we reached our destination we observed a pony couple yelling at one another in the streets, it looked like violence was imminent. Time to intervene?

“What’s the problem?” I ask the couple that appeared to be made up of two bucks, okay I’m bad at telling the genders of ponies apart. They were less sexually dimorphic than humans; it was annoying.

“None of your fucking business,” The larger of the two ponies said to me without looking in my direction, okay one of the two ponies was just really masculine looking.

“Okay, we’ve fought zombies,irradiated the fuck out of ourselves and found more evidence of fucking aliens. Now we have to do something dumbfuck boss signed up for because he says he has a master plan but I’m just not seeing it. Now to be honest none of you need to know these things but it helps me make a point, the point being.” He cleared his throat before finishing. “I have other things to deal with and they make your problems whatever they are seem tiny, so fix them, or don’t I really don’t give a shit either way.” Did arthur just use rhetoric to force a solution to a domestic dispute?

“I have a plan it’s just kinda vague, it’s like the mad libs of plans,” I say to Arthur in front of the assembled crowd.

“Doesn’t change your love of being a bleeding heart ‘hero’, now can we go it’s really not our place to intervene.” Arthur/Elvis said before continuing his walk towards FMJ.

“I never said I was anything like a hero, I just try to do what any decent person should do. Besides I’m not even talking to Arthur right? Elvis how long have been drinking?” I say to his back which makes him turn around and stare at me. Both of us were silent as the crowd and the couple dispersed. Why are you at odds with him? He acts in our combined self interests, learning to leave things well enough alone would be good for you.

“I agree with you in regards to his rampant tampering of things that aren’t his to worry about.”  Synthie said, while I lost control of my speech for a moment.

“What?” Elvis said more to himself than to any who could hear him. Meanwhile I had taken control of my body back by giving him a good paradox to think about (Zeno’s). When you’re done with that can you tell me how you did that? Switching gears I had to explain to Elvis what was living inside of my body, alongside me (the consciousness that answers to the name Jake).

“Sorry I probably should have told you abou-,” I stopped as I saw a dozen red bars on my EFS. “Goddamn it Synthie, Cut that shit out.” I yelled to make my point very poignant, Elvis merely continued to stare at us. Or was he just staring at me? A crackling then issued from my Pipboy’s speakers “I’ll just explain as we make our way to full metal jacket, any interjections you ‘need’ to make can be said when you want.”  Synthie spoke in a pompous version of my own voice through my Pipboys speakers. I guess having him speak this way solves the whole non consensual possession thing.

Elvis asked questions and Synthie and I answered as best we could, all in all our situation seemed to amuse him and we figured out that we really needed to work on our communication. The question and answer session didn’t take long and we still had several minutes of travel left. Neither of us even attempted anything approaching small talk, thusly we a silence fell upon us. It seemed that the longer you spend around a companion the less actual meaningful communication gets done. Or was it just I’m bad with people? No, I think there’s just a void between me and him, he never responds to my small talk attempts, and both of them are uptight about their past. You’re reticent about your past as well. No, i’m not reticent about my past. It’s the lack of anything worth mentioning that makes me almost silent in regards to my past, that along with the fact that no-one ever asks about it. Okay I concede you led a mundane life before my hardware was installed, but-. Yes Icepick did have seem curious about where I came from, but I mean what intelligent person wouldn’t be curious about an interdimensional hobo? Nobody else we’ve come across seems to care? Intelligent person being the sine qua non of the previous statement. Arthur has made some queries in regards to your previous existence, perhaps this is correlated with him being the more amicable of the two personalities? Out of the two I could maybe befriend Arthur, Elvis is too much of a self serving hedonistic lech for me. Have you ever wondered what kind of psychological trauma caused his mind to bifurcate? No and asking would be an exercise in futility if we asked Elvis, and if we asked Arthur the underlying psyche might switch to Elvis to continue the repression. We should still make an attempt at asking when and if Arthur is afflicted with ethanol poisoning. As underhanded and clinical that statement was I really don’t see a downside to getting some telling answers from him when he’s mentally compromised. Also from now on unless our life is in danger don’t assume control of the body, because If you do I’ll do something worse than give you a migraine inducing headache.

He was silent for the next thirty seconds which was incidentally the remaining time before we arrived at Full Metal Jacket. We both stepped inside to see Silver Tongue talking to an older mare that looked flustered.

“So you can’t get Med-X for the foreseeable future?” The mare asked Silver in a way that didn’t ooze sycophancy like almost everyone elses interactions with him. I like her already, although the whole med-x junkie thing isn’t a positive character trait.

“Sorry, I know you need it but Crucible isn’t letting up on their non-trading thing,” He said with a hint of actual guilt at not being to sell the medication.

“Well we aren’t equipped to trade with them outside the walls, even if they would sell of the Med-X.” The older white coated mare said wistfully before beginning her walk towards the door. She gave me nary a look before leaving. The dynamics between ‘Silver’ and her were anomalous. I know.

“I got the shit if you want it?” I say loudly into the shop making Silver visibly shudder.

Elvis was standing an arms distance away from me and looked just as bored as the guards in the shop. Silver turned towards me and cleared his throat before responding to me.

“So you made the chems?” He asked evenly having regained his composure after I startled him.

“Yea, yea, yes what do think I came here for; a social call?” I said with a stammer in my voice. I had a stutter when I was younger and sometimes it reappeared (at the worst of times).

“You wound me,” he said in a mock offended tone before chuckling quietly to himself, a fair amount of his subordinates faked a laugh as well. The Sycophancy is indeed strong here. “But thats alright as long as you did the job.”

“Now where is the payment?” Elvis said confrontationally.

“Right, how does a thousand sound?” Silver Tongue questioned.

Elvis chuckled. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Be careful when you question my knowledge of capitalism. I understand supply and demand, you have no supply and demand out the ass. You will have to do better than that.”

I began to say something a touch more diplomatic but Elvis shushed me, Silver Tongue seemed more intimidated by Elvis than I was… It was rather convenient.

“You can’t walk in here and pretend you are in ch…” Silver Tongue stammered.

Elvis cut him off. “Don’t you dare fuck with me or you will get nothing. I have the supply which there is little of. You have the money which there is lots of. I will take it and leave if you insult me again.” Elvis said harshly. “I want 3,000.”

Silver Tongue was taken aback, but did not argue with the disgruntled Elvis. He opened his drawer and pulled out 3 big bags of caps. He slid them across slowly. Elvis walked to the counter and grabbed the bags. I in turn pulled out all of the fresh chems, very quickly silver had his chems andand we had the caps. After that exchange I bought some more ammunition to replace the rounds we had consumed fighting ghouls. Silver had gone to the back rooms with some of the older security guards after we gave him the chems and was probably having a strategy session. I was buying my equipment from a timid mare that had apparently been left in charge. Elvis was trying to get us an ‘employee discount’ but I (kinda) stopped him. His powers of intimidation are useful but they shouldn’t be used on the weak… right? Why does this place make everything a binary decision. You can’t walk across the street without someone trying to make you decide between moral or immoral actions. Being either a ‘hero’ or a ‘villain’ is annoying in and of itself. The stupid DJ pony makes it all the worse with the whole ‘good fight’ drible. Is being ‘not terrible’ insufficient for the task of rebuilding the this shitty world.  Keep the expectations low but always keep raising the bar, thats a better model for radio borne propaganda, right?

“That’ll be four hundred thirty six caps sir,” The small mare said before holding out a hoof. Did she expect me to put the caps in her hoof?

Don’t think about the mundane in this place, you’ll just get an aneurism. That would be inconvenient.

“Add on the half the price of a dozen incendiary forty millimeter grenades” Elvis said while walking up to the counter.

Is he really trying to… Yes he is.

“Um, sir are you buying six grenades or twelve.” The mare said looking Elvis in the face and actively shaking.

“Twelve, but give him a fifty percent discount or you’re not selling any to us,” Arthur said to the least sleazy person in the shop (including us of course). I was planning a way to keep some vestige of the moral high ground when the mare responded.

“Okay four thirty six for the other stuff and, um… fifty two for the grenades.” She said trying to keep cool around the people that had scared her much more intimidating (than herself) boss away. Elvis began to count out the caps as she just stood there looking at the wall with a far off expression on her face.

“No, I make decisions here Elvis. Miss how about seventy eight for the grenades and that bandolier sitting in that case.” I say to her which in turn made Elvis flip me off.

“Here it is, does he have all the caps counted out?” She asks in a pepperier spirit.

You know if anyone else figured out that they could get you to spend all our money was a ‘cute’ shopkeeper we would be in trouble.

“Thanks miss, Elvis lets go, we don’t want to outstay our welcome.” I say as I lead the still annoyed Elvis away. The door swung shut and we parted ways: I wanted to go back to the hotel and relax. In contrast Elvis was pissed (As he usually was) therefore he wanted to go drink at blurred lines club. Didn’t really make that much of a difference to me, besides I hadn’t really had time to truly relax.

You want to finish that text on arcane engineering don’t you?

Yes, and am I really that effected by cuteness of the ponies?

Not really, it’s the female ones that close to your age that get you, to be fair it’s probably a normal reaction that most would have in your circumstances.

Pssh, lucky me. Stuck where the only eligible females are quadrupedal.

---===*===---

When I finished paying for a night at the hotel I was humored because I got the same room that I had slept in last time. After stripping off my armour I happily resigned myself to a quiet evening of challenging reading with the radio on.

Sleep came easily enough.

End of Chapter Nine: The Doors Part 1

Footnote

Irradiated- magical radiation is being emitted by you at levels that would set off a magic Geiger counter, it is of detriment to you or any human.

Perk added:

Incremental Understanding - You have observed things that don’t fit most peoples perceptions of reality. How will you live with this knowledge of things (better) left in the dark? No-one knows but that doesn’t stop you from wondering. (This might have been the problem in the first place.)  +2 perception when not under the effects of chemicals.