Chapter One: Murder, Murder, and Letters
Chapter One: Murder, murder, and lots of letters
They say war never changes. They are wrong. It always changes, from clubs to swords to guns. Ponykind has always found some way to massacre each other. I think the point was that it never really changed as to why it happens. But that’s wrong too; the war with Griffonia was started purely on religious beliefs and the one that turned half the world to a fucking hellhole was started over trade disagreements. No-one really knew about what happened to the Crystal Kingdom and Southern Griffonia, the north too close to Equestria to avoid Balefire. But I’m just a stallion with a fire in his eyes and petrol on his back. So I guess philosophers would have an answer as to why I was wrong.
However, ponies can debate my sagely words for eras to come, but that’s not why they are here. They are here to know how a simple unicorn with an odd fascination managed to find a piece of the old world. The island so far from anywhere that nopony bothered to document. It started as all the tales of those living in the wasteland did. A pony who the world just loved to shit upon, but once in a blue moon would give a string to follow…
“Clover, how’re you doing with wing A, found any good loot yet?” My own searches coming up blank as a foal’s rump. We had short range communicators we ‘found’ a while back. We were going to sell them, but Cloves had the great idea of keeping them so we could scavenge faster. The static was replaced by a female voice.
“Nothing yet, do you think this place was already looted? That vendor who gave us the location was sure a shifty fellow.” The communicator cut back to the low and slightly annoying hum of static. Her voice popped up again. “Wait, I think I found something. It’s a safe!” she stopped speaking and I heard the bang of the safe door. “Damn, it’s locked! Apples get your ass over here,” I knew I could open it. Lock picking was one of my special talents, it was my special talent. A screwdriver and pick adorned my flanks. I galloped to where she was, her voice guiding me through the twists and turns of the factory. The robots here were either destroyed or sealed in their pods. With only a couple maintenance droids floating about.
“Well, let’s open this puppy,” I said, my eyes alight with hope. Maybe an old relic that would sell for tons of caps. I heard the tumblers click and clack into place. I was surprised it hadn’t already been opened, taking me less than a minute to crack the safe. It opened. All I found was a note with an old world bit on top. “A note! Really, did someone intentionally wait 200 years to screw with anyone who opened it?” I thought about ripping the note, but maybe it was a clue to some greater treasure, my hope for loot still burning strong.
Where the alicorns did sin. It will get under your skin.
“What is this cryptic bullshit, Cloves?” I passed the note to her. Her eyes scanned the piece of paper.
“I don’t know, probably some pre-war pony who loved poetry.” Clover passed the note back, and instead of burning it to ash, I folded the note and levitated it into my saddlebags. If someone was that cryptic they are either a poet or someone who wanted to give back to the world. Being the unforgiving wasteland, I wanted it to be the latter. It wasn’t just an easy life for me; it was something more than caps. I guess you could say I was going to give to the world myself, for a price. But that’s just it, in the wasteland, everything has a price.
“Well, we didn’t find anything, and that travelling merchant is probably long gone with our caps in his pocket. I think we’d better head home,” I said, week after week we had found nothing of value and our cap stacks were starting to run thin. We had grown desperate, and the prospect of killing some raiders for their caps was becoming more appealing every day.
“Fine, but Apple, we need some caps, and soon. I don’t want to be a mare in Sweetie’s house,” she said. It was more of a possibility she might have to sell her body for us to get by. I was still adamant we would find something and tried to discourage her every time it came up.
“Now don’t talk like that Cloves, we’re gonna find something soon. I just know it, we’ve been through harsher times together. You aren’t gonna have to do that ever,” I gave her a weak smile before getting up from the safe and trotting out with her in tow. I would make sure she never had to. Even if it involved me selling my own body.
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We made it back to our place of residence outside the Honey Caves. It wasn’t much, just a small shack safe from the abominations nearby. Because of the dead ponies outside the caves, we never really had a lack of food. Even if it was dangerous to scavenge in there. All of them had an excess of scorpion antidote, but it never saved them from the pincers. They say there’s some mystic old world treasure down there guarded by a lone hellhound. But I’ve got my little treasure of sheet metal and bolts. It’s all we need, but not what we want. I want a broadcasting station like that DJ-Pon3 pony, and she wants a mechanical shop. But what we both want is a farm. That’s what united us at first, the idea of a farm. But we also had other qualities in common. Like wanting back what you put in and no more no less. Also, honesty.
I sat back in my chair and looked at my terminal. Reading the words I typed. My journal of sorts. A message for future me if I make my dream come true. Because I might become really egotistical, and a story about your life in the wasteland is certainly something to bring you down. The wasteland is horrible, I’ve typed that at least twenty times, and I will type it many more. It’s not just the fact that everyone’s out for your blood. It’s the fact that everything is out for your blood. Crazed robots, insane bio-brains, loco raiders, even plants! The wasteland is some kind of virus, some kind of zebra horseapples to salt the Earth so that nothing can grow because everypony’s too crazy to grow some damn fresh food when there’s plump pony rump on the menu. I shut the terminal off again, I just didn’t feel the urge to write and instead spun around on my chair.
“Stop spinning on that or it’s going ta break again, I got enough stuff to fix already!” Cloves shouted. I forgot the chair squeaks when it spins. It’s already broke four times and each time she had to repair it. Because I can’t do anything with a wrench except hit somepony with it. Which she still complains about it ‘not being as shiny anymore’. She was a bit of a perfectionist and if I was more of a psychologist I would think she had traits of obsessive compulsive disorder. But I study a different science.
“No! It’s fun and I’m bored!” I shouted back, a playful childlike pout that she would never see on my face. I was more than a bit immature. My only serious side was science. I guess it was how I coped with all the stuff the wasteland threw at me. I was never very good at that. My only companion in the darkest of times was a small old world lighter my pa gave to me. It had a zebrican cutie mark engraved upon it. While I feel they caused this. I hold no hostility, all’s fair in love and war and it’s just another war today. I think that’s why I use fire weapons and spells. It reminds me of him. I still have the lighter. In dark nights I sometimes flick it on and stare at it. It shows life, ever going, the old replaced by the new, one blow can snuff it all out. A macabre dance as it spins, never knowing when it might burn it’s last so trying to prolong its existence, dragging the air around down with it. Making little change to the environment. But it makes a change all the same. Burning the remaining oxygen in the atmosphere away. We had many centuries until it ran out because of our limited use of combustible material and industry. The Red Eye fellow polluting everywhere could have brought us back. It was a sad affair that, the Light Bringer killing him and all, but I guess it was for the best. A hero must purge evil, even when it can benefit them. I guess that’s why I don’t consider myself a hero; I put no warning signs or attempt to clear the deadly caves. It benefits me to have food and water, if a bit dirty and filled with horrible diseases that makes me wonder why we haven’t died yet. But I guess the wasteland just won’t let you die until you are completely and utterly broken. It is death masquerading as twisted rebirth. Stockholm syndrome would be the best words to describe it. Whenever the wasteland doesn’t shit upon you in glee, you take it as a godsend. But those moments of luck are few and far between. That’s another reason I teamed up with Cloves seven years back, her name is Lucky Clover. However, it’s more like monkey’s paw. The safe as a prime example. I mean, any other poor sod would have found it looted and empty. But Clover found it locked. Then when we opened it, Luna diddly squat to show for it apart from a silly cryptic note.
‘Where the alicorns did sin. It will get under your skin.’ I mean, what was that even supposed to mean? Because it sounded pretty freaky. Wait, sin. That means doing bad. Alicorns, but they never go wrong. So, hmmmmm, ahah! It’s something about Nightmare Moon then. Under your skin, hmmm? That could be anything, either something to do with skin, holding something together, foundations or a million other things. Geez, I just want us to get lucky at least once in our lives. Pure luck, not this stupid ‘you get what you want but not how you want it’ luck which sucks the chrome off a ‘57 Heavy chariot. That reminds me, we need to get back to Silver Lining in Heavy’s showroom. That would give us a few hundred caps. She said we shouldn’t rush; but I’m not a colt who likes to keep a gal waiting.
“Hay, Cloves!” I heard a clatter of pans and an annoyed grunt.
“What? You made me drop the plates again!”
“Sorry about that. But we should probably go back and tell Silver we gave the package to Golden Dawn. What do you think?”
“We’ll start trekking tomorrow. But for now, just sit and relax with me, please.” She came out from the kitchen and sat down on the worn couch next to me and started eating her food and put levitated mine next to me until I grabbed it with my own telekinesis. I still didn’t touch mine for a while until she asked.
“Come on, please? Do it for me,” she asked. Her pouty face and puppy eyes never fail to work on me.
“Fine, but we both know it doesn’t do anything for me.”
“That’s a lie, it helps you stay sane. Doing normal pony things and such. I heard it on the radio.”
“Yeah, you also know that it’s a load of horseapples. I need wads to make me grow big and stwong!” I finished by flexing one of my forelegs. She started half-heartedly punching me while laughing.
“Stop it! -” she stuck her tongue out at me “ - eight years ago someone asked me my opinion on your folk. I said I hated them. I’m such a hypocrite. But I’ve finished my beans and you haven’t even touched yours so I don’t want to be even more of one than by taking another pony’s share. “Honest work…”
“Honest earnings. I know Cloves, but food won’t really help unless you picked it straight from a sludge pool,”
“It’s all in the mind, ooooooohhhhh!” She started to wave her hands about like a ghost. We could always make each other laugh. “Oh my, look at the terminal, it’s almost eleven! We better head to bed.”
“You better head to bed. I can’t sleep, remember. I'll be waiting on the couch for when you wake up." She got off from the couch and trotted towards the bed. It was a double bed so I could have lain with her. But, I just didn't think it was right for me to sleep on it. I heard a soft sigh as the door closed. This part always saddened me the most. One day I would lie in that bed with her. I just needed to gather enough courage to go inside the room. One day I’d lie next to her. Watch over like a guardian. I heard a soft blow as the lamp in the bedroom flickered out.
What was I going to do for nine hours? I guess I could have typed something on the terminal but that probably would have been boring. So I went outside and down the hill to watch the caves filled with radscorpions and other unsightly creatures. As I lifted my head I saw a shape in the distance. A distinctly pony shape. But it was probably a feral ghoul roaming around. Pony or not it’d still get torn to pieces by the cave. As it trotted closer I could see it wasn’t a ghoul, it walked with purpose and grace, but it still looked disfigured. It trotted even closer and I saw its head tilt towards me. The flash of neon green told me all I needed to know. It was a Steel Ranger patrolling around in heavy armour. However, they didn’t attack me straight out like the usual technocratic nutty lot I knew. I dangled my hoof over the edge and shook my head. Tank in pony form or not they would still get obliterated by the monsters. The Ranger nodded but continued forwards. Poor brave sod, at least it would give Clover something to cannibalise when we came back from Heavy Showroom. The first wave of radscorpions attacked and the Ranger looked up at me as they all fell. I could almost feel the smugness that emanated from the pony. Then they got tackled by one of the invisible dog things. It was starting. I heard the howl and quickly left for the house. The screams just got too much. I heard their battle saddle firing and pained whines. The pony screeched in a high-pitched, feminine, voice. I had to stop myself from rushing down to die an early death. She was probably dead already. I shut the metal door behind me and sat back on the couch. I twisted over and attempted to sleep. It never came, but I could at least block out the screams echoing in my head.
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I heard a loud yawn from the bedroom, I did finally write my entry by the way. That poor Steel Ranger gave me cause. The door opened and a, ‘tired’ looking Clover trotted out. She looked at me then went to go fetch herself some breakfast. Which was probably more beans, beans were good.
“Clover, we gonna go to Silver soon?” I asked. Nine hours of loneliness tends to bore ponies and I wanted to do something soon.
“Apple, I just woke up. We aren’t going yet. Anyone else bravely searched for treasure in the caves last night?” She wasn’t really affected by death there as much as I was. She hated greed above all, so she hated the wasteland. She came back in with sauce around her lips and a levitating can which was quickly chucked into the spare metal bin. She floated out a plate with more beans on it. She ate it and the plate floated back into the ‘kitchen’
“Yeah, one. It’s a surprise who though. I can tell you this, it’s going to be a good haul,” I said. She looked confused for a while but didn’t ask who it was. I did find it a bit odd that I’m giving a corpse as a present. But hey, that corpse was filled with super cool loot. Also a mask for my face. Masks for my face were good, but they broke easily due to stupid raiders with heavy guns. She went into her workshop to get her guns. I kept mine on hoof twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Who knows when one of those mutants might grow a brain and come looking for someone to eat. I heard some metal hit the ground and the door opened with her kitted out in full combat gear. If she had doves, they would be flying out the door making her looks even more majestic. There was no mistaking I found her attractive. But I’m a ghoulpony and look like grated cabbage; so I didn’t think the feeling was returned. But I just went to check the pantry, and surprisingly, she hadn’t packed the food yesterday in a duffle bag. I stuffed it in my own along with a few extra tanks of fuel. She trotted next to me as I opened the door.
“Madam, your hellhole awaits.” Giving a little bow to complete the butler feeling.
“Why good sir you should accompany me in my quest!” She snorted and started laughing as we opened the door.
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Heavy Showroom was still a long way off and we were in no hurry. So we decided to stop off at Pearl’s Haven, a quaint little town with a few residents but amazingly good loot. We had few caps but decided to go in anyway, maybe we would get a nice deal on a gun or some more fuel for my Dragon or actual dragon breath rounds for my double barrel. We approached the vendor town and Pearl came out to greet us. She was an old mare but aged gracefully. Looking more like regality than a mayor.
“Clover! Apples! How nice of you to stop by. Do you need anything? After those raider camps you cleared you certainly earned that discount and more.” She came up and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. I considered her to be a worried grandma even though I was about 125 years older than her. Pearl was probably one of the only ponies who wouldn’t leave us at the drop of the hat, along with Silver and Heartstrings, the resident medic who was extremely infatuated with Clover. I admit I was a bit jealous at the fact she wanted Clover and had fur. Clover was more a pony that discarded gender and was romantically attracted to ponies. Looks did play a part, but it was mainly what was inside your soul, mine as black as tar. I said I wasn’t a good pony, and I can prove it, but she found me as a kind soul who discarded morality for others safety. I stepped back before I spoke, I heard from Clover that ghoul breath stank ‘like a hellhound’s ass’. At this point I felt eyes on me. But I shrugged it off as someone in the town looking at me.
“Dear Pearly, you don’t look a day over fifty. But yes, we do need one thing. Is there any place to get some cheap injection potions?” I already knew a place where we could get a couple free, but it didn’t feel right taking from these people. Even if I did help them out. However if I had to I would.
"You don’t look a day over two-hundred yourself. Well, since its valentine’s day. Everypony’s lowering their prices! Even ol’ crankydoodle!” She beamed at me and trotted past the gates. We followed her into the reception room and sat in the chairs inside. “You need the usual room, single bed?”
“Yeah, we’re going to the Showroom again.”
“Well, I guess I could keep it open for when you come back. I really would like you to stay some more. Gets a bit lonely when the town only talks in caps.”
“Thanks dear, I hope we can spend our caps here. But we really need injection potions, so I guess I’ll go talk to Heartstrings then.”
“Be a darling and tell her I said hello,” she said. We took the keys from the desk and left the building. The town, while small in residents, was quite heavily fortified. We made a beeline for the ‘hospital’. Nothing more than a tent with a butterfly on the top. Heartstrings would no doubt be overjoyed at seeing Clover again. She would always make this grand show like Clover was the princess returning from a long battle and gave me this little smug smile. We stepped into the tent and Heartstrings instantly shot towards her. She put on her best bedroom eyes and sultry voice to try her luck.
“Are you hurt? Because you sure need some tender, loving care.” There it was, the smug smile. I gave my ‘I’m not interested go home’ look and hmphed at her. “You need me to, kiss it better?” Damn she was laying the cheese thick tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if her price for injection potions was a kiss or a little nibble of the ear. Stupid Heartstrings and her stupid clean fur and her stupid perfect skin.
“No, I’m fine Heart, but we do need a few injection potions. Or stimpacks as everypony calls them. Oh, and Pearl says hello.”
“Oh yes, I might have a few spare somewhere around here.” She turned away and waggled her rump seductively as she trotted around opening containers to check for the stimpacks. Stupid Heartstrings. She sure took a damn long time before she actually got to the ‘butterfly box of magic’ because even two-hundred years later, those bastard things still had precious stuff inside. It made no sense, but neither did the bottles of Celest returning to the machine I already looted just three days ago. This wasteland loves give physics a good hard kicking; as well as everything else. I’m surprised it doesn’t operate on Cuil Theory.
But she pulled out seven stims and laid them on a desk nearby before saying, “That’d be four-hundred caps darling.” 400! She must be bonkers!
“Erm, we don’t have four-hundred. We only have about three-fifty.” I said, putting on my best winning smile. With half my teeth missing and skin peeling like bad sunburn I wasn’t really a charismatic guy but a smile is a smile.
“Well, I guess you just need to pay with something else then.” - Damnit it didn’t work. - “Maybe you could deliver this invoice to the Talon mercs up near Tenpony tower?” She held up a small letter and waggled it at me. She didn’t ask for a kiss from Clover, a bit surprising actually.
“You mean the people who are paid to stop ghoulponies from coming near?” I asked, sarcasm lacing my voice.
“Well, yes. That shouldn’t be a problem now wou- oh, yeah forgot about that.” Damn right she did. “But they’re only there for clearing out the ghouls in the sewers. I guess you’d be okay with going to their camp nearby.”
“You’re still going to need to give us all the stimpacks first. They are going to shoot at me. While I don’t feel pain, Clover does and we both really don’t want her to die of blood loss.” Well, feeling no pain was a lie, I just ignored it better. I felt every bit as broken when getting shot as Clover did.
“Hold the phone, how do I know you aren’t going to stiff me?” Really, she thought I was going to drop my main source of guns and healing, a town who I heavily helped out to boot, for seven stimpacks. She really should get to know me better instead of trying to bed Clover every time we meet. Sometimes she could be one dense mare.
“Ahem, two months ago. I helped clear out that bandit camp. We lost Candyfloss, I made a promise while he died in my arms. He made me promise I would always protect this town. That means you too. I’m not going to ‘stiff’ you for a few stims.” She looked sad for a moment but brightened up after. She put the invoice into my saddlebags and gave me the stimpacks. Clovers giving her a quick kiss making Heartstrings’ face flush red. Cloves could be a real tease sometimes. I don’t know whether she wanted me or her. But I guess that was a game mares played and I was not falling for it.
“Goodbye Clover, Apples,” she said. I gave a wave and walked out the tent to the gun vendor. ‘Dead-Shot’ as he called himself, sold quite high quality guns. Not the Gun Runner standard, but better than your average trading post.
We strolled up to the small chariot where he set up shop and got his attention. He was a brown stallion with a fiery red mane in front pointed spikes. Rather like he placed a hedgehog over his eyes.
“Hay, Dead-Blind! You got anymore of the slow burning and normal dragon fluid?” He turned around with a smile and greeted me in the old stallion pissing match way.
“Cheese Grater, how nice of you to pop by. I have about three tanks of the slow burn and ten of the normal mate. That would run up to one-oh-eight caps, but since its valentines. It’ll be sixty-five.” He turned around to tanks and I placed the caps on the back end of the chariot. He swiped the caps as I took the tanks and set them in my saddlebags. They took up a damn lot of room. “Anything else, dragon breath rounds perhaps? I have about fifty. If you want them it’ll set you back twenty caps.”
“Yeah, them too. Clover, you want anything?” I asked, she thought for a moment and then spoke.
“Yep, I’ll have a hundred three-oh-eight, fifteen clips of five-fifty-six and a repair for the zebra rifle please.” She gave him the rifle and he quickly disassembled it, checked it over, and then spoke.
“This rifle is still in pretty good condition. Preventive maintenance I guess. You are an engineer aren’t you? But that’ll be ninety-three caps for the repair and a hundred-forty for the clips sheila.” I swore the guy was psychic, but they didn’t name him Radar for nothing.
“Yeah, but I’m more into the electronic side so I’m not great at repairs.” She forked over most of the remaining caps and stowed the ammo and rifle in her saddlebags. As we were walking away from ol’ Dead-Shot she said, “So, Apple, how many caps we got left?”
“We got about, 65, 85,178,278,318. We got 32 caps. That’ll be enough for board for the four nights we’ll be travelling to and fro with nothing spare.”
“Well, I didn’t pack any food so err, yeah.” She had this guilty look on her face that reminded me of her great-grandmother. Funny that, I met her grandmother pre-red dawn. Real sweet mare actually, I would have called her more than an acquaintance, but we were just friends. However, it was a good thing I thought to bring food for her otherwise we’d have been screwed. I checked the pantry just before we left and wasn’t going to say anything, just slip it in her bags while she wasn’t looking. But she’s sharper than I give her credit for, just only half the time.
“Good thing I decided to check just before we left otherwise this would have been an awful journey.” My smug level was reaching insane heights. She playfully punched me in the shoulder and gave me a hug.
“Thanks Candy, you’re such a sweetie. I don’t know where I’d be without you” She booped me on the nose and smiled before trotted beside me. We really were best friends and I think my childishness rubbed off on her. But that was all, best friends. I remember pre-war times, it was considered the almost inescapable ‘friend-zone’. Only the best of stallions would make it out. One of my best friends, Caramel, was stuck in the friendzone with this one mare. She was the friend I mentioned earlier. Weird eyes and clumsy, but a real fun lass to be around. Caramel had the fortune to actually die when the bombs hit, lucky guy. No horseapples like bloated fish-monster things and whacked out robots so out of it you could synthesise hallucinogens out of them. I’m not good at jokes. But I am good with words, most of the time.
“Probably a fish monster. Blub blub blub bluuuuuuub!” She smiled again as we walked to the room we had rented. As said, it was a single bed. I didn’t need to sleep and a couch was comfy enough to lie on anyway. We actually had a holo-projector in there. It didn’t work really well until Clover and Dead-Shot teamed up to fix it. We had a couple Appleloosan’s and a few Daring Do tapes. Sometimes we’d mount it on a wall and let everyone watch them. They really were fun, especially for the kids. We reached the door, it was only to store our stuff in the secure chests. Magic locks aren’t easily broken, especially when they require a tune and key. We stored all the stuff we didn’t need for the journey and left the building. Walking towards the gates and into the wasteland.
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It had been about one hour of continuous walking. I usually told stories from my time in pre-war. I was a soldier in the early part of the war.
“When all the horseapples about the Steel Ranger armour popped up and the tension between the ministry’s heads increased I decided it was my last tour on the field. I wore one of the test suits for the T-44g variant because of my rank of sergeant major and the fact I was in the selected battalion. I felt like the luckiest stallion alive at that point. However, it didn’t really turn out so well as, while able to protect from fire, was prone to spell matrix crashes and armour lock-ups. I was actually stuck in no-man’s land for about three minutes in that suit. It was the most terrifying experience I had in my life. The suit was made of strong, heavy stuff though. I trudged back through mud and wire with nothing but my own strength until the spell matrix booted back up and I got back over heaving and panting. It really showed me the war machine. That we were all expendable. None of that ‘For the Princesses! For the Ministries! For Ponykind!’ horseapples. That was the main reason why I left field service and joined the officers as a 2nd lieutenant eventually captain. I still got into one of the actual T-45b variants which was nice. The rugged workhorse of the army.
I think I might be one of the only soldiers from the war in this one. The experience I have as being an officer is pretty helpful. They really teach you to think of numbers and not stallions. That never stuck with me, every number was a stallion with a heart, with a mind, and with a family. I never got to make many decisions anyway. If only I’d been promoted more. I could have saved so many lives. I could have helped so many families. At least I helped some. When it came the time that I had to go on the field once more or face dishonourable discharge I went on that field. I never felt so happy in my life to save more people. Even with the thought bubbling in my mind that the higher-ups didn’t care either way. I was expendable and I cared only about others. I guess you could call it friendship. I call it BiA, Brothers in Arms. We shared each other’s pain, we shared each other’s joy. I remember when Cherry got a letter from his wife. It was real sweet too. It was all about how she missed him. It also had pictures of his grown-up kids, Spark and Bright. Best duo in the world. They could solve any problem when they put their heads together. It’s like they were two halves of God’s brain. They were the one of the main people who actually got the Steel Ranger armour’s spell matrix to stop bluescreening. Was quite an inconvenience, as both it showed the matrix crashed and also it polarised the glass to opaque blue so you couldn’t see jack. Only way I found my way back was the Zebra’s had silencers and we didn’t. Tad odd to think of me walking into heavy gunfire for help. But hey, that’s two stories in one that I told you. Three if you count the little tidbit of my promotion. But that’s a different story for later.”
“You have a really interesting life Apple. Sometimes I think you’re lying.” I turned to her. An angry expression on my face reflected in her eyes. She visibly flinched, but my anger overrode my guilt. I wasn’t the most emotionally stable stallion even at the best of times. But the war was a pretty horrible thing. Combined with the indoctrination of stallions that stated they were less than a zebra if they didn’t fight. It was simply genocide. I’m not a man for needless deaths and this entire war was certainly needless. I heard about the healing megaspell deployed by Fluttershy herself. She tried to help everyone, and was cast out because of it.
“I, am, not, lying! You think I’m lying, no this all happened to me. This shaped me into the ghoul I am now. If I was you’d probably be dead by my hand. Or worse, I’d go feral. No!” I grabbed her and shook hard. She was on the verge of crying but I didn’t care. My voice roaring over her sniffles. “I would never, ever lie about my time in the corps! Never! Don’t you ever say! I’m lying! My pain, my suffering because of that war. You think I’m simply making it up to sound cooler or something!” My voice almost Royal Canterlot level. Her eyes were the beginning of a river with no end.
“I’m, I’m s-s-sorry. I, I just didn’t think all that, could happen to one stallion.” Her crying started to slow and she was hyperventilating. I gave her a panic attack.
My guilt finally shone through as my rage burnt out. I dropped one of my forehooves and spoke, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. But, just, it’s hard for me. Even now some of the memories still fresh like a wound. Please don’t cry.” She was still breathing quickly but she stopped crying. I gave her a hug and squeezed. She returned the hug as her breathing returned to normal levels. “Just, it really is true. No matter how hard it is to believe. Every single word of it. I wouldn’t lie to my best friend anyway.” I gave a weak smile which she returned. “Now, let’s get going.”
“Yeah, night is falling. Even though you can’t see it, all that horseapples with the Enclave sealing up the sky.” I thought of my dear Cloudchaser. Our descendants were probably still up there. Brainwashed into hating me. But that’s something I can live with. I’ve committed more than my fair share of atrocities.
I had the feeling that something was watching us. My sixth sense going haywire. I silently checked my guns and gave her the signal, nothing more than a cough wink and nod, but it was stealthy enough. It could have been nothing; but we still kept up the conversation. One I told many times, the cloud cover.
“I remember when the cloud cover went up. I thought they were protecting us below and they would bear the radiation. But it was just normal cloud. The balefire missiles streaked straight through and murdered thousands. I realised, they weren’t protecting us, they were protecting themselves. The bastards, I don’t hold any grudges against zebras. But if I find any pegasus in power armour come down I’m going to tear the bastard limb from limb. I will eat him alive.” My ears swiveled around, I heard a whisper. Whether raiders or normal ponies, they would still try and kill us.
“Commandant, it’s worse than we thought. Subjects are cannibals. Proceed with cauterisation?”It was but a whisper, but I heard it like a shout. It was them. Speak of Discord and he shall appear. I heard the voice again. “Yes sir, proceeding.”
“Clover, when I tell you, run away, find cover and suppress them. These, these ponies are Enclave. Start looking for a vantage position” I heard the power up of a heavy duty gauss rifle. They could not be serious. A heavy duty cannon for little old me? Well, they’re gonna need to use more gun. She started walking in the direction of a rock. Simply as though she was looking at something. When she was far enough away I roared, “Signal Delta!” She sprinted as fast as she could to the rock and I sprinted in the opposite direction. I knew I couldn’t outrun a gun which fired a bullet travelling at one-one-hundred-thousandth percent of the speed of light. Which was still some damn speed, about three kilometres per second. But I could certainly throw their aim off. I was sprinting in a shallow serpentine ‘U’ so I could get close and personal when it felt like the sun had fallen on me. The actual bullet must have impacted the ground nearby. But I was flying towards my targets at some speed with every single piece of shrapnel that ever existed inside my rump and vibrating like a tuning fork as my body parts decided they didn’t like each other. Luckily not causing major damage to my spine or brain because I was already running towards them. They flew in the air to my level and whipped out their scorpion tails. Hoping to impale and kill me. A bullet charged through the air beside my head and impacted one of the pegasi in the wing. They dropped like a stone and the other moved as they looked down at their spiralling comrade. This put me on a collision course with the black bastard. I screamed in pure animal rage as I put up a fire spell around myself looking like a shooting star. I tackled him and hard. The sun came back for another round but adrenaline numbed the shock. I heard a crack and the pony that I held onto screamed in a male voice. I broke his wings and we arced towards the ground with him below me we hit the ground and skidded as I kept hold of him. Readying my shotgun with the dragon rounds. We started slowing and he bucked me off with hydraulic legs. If I wasn’t wearing my leather armour I’d have two hoof sized holes in my stomach. I was propelled in the air and landed on my hooves. Still skidding like the ground was an ice-rink. I fired my pellets at his broken wings. Hoping to burn him alive. His feathers started to burn but it didn’t catch. At least he couldn’t fly. I noticed the other hadn’t got up yet and I saw blood leaking out of their head. His death was painless, too good for him.
I ran towards the now only stallion and started firing my shotgun while deploying my Dragonbreather. I holstered my shotgun and stared at him through his faceplate. His eyes narrowed and I jumped away as he swung his scorpion tail and readied his battle saddle. The pegasus with the gauss rifle dead. I ran and put up a weak shield. I was never really good at defence. It held long enough for me to be able to start the fire.
“Burn! Burn in hell you scum!” His heat protection wouldn’t last for long as I circle strafed him, keeping out of his weapons turning speed. I started laughing, a cackle of madness. His wings really caught fire at the barrage of fire. He started thrashing about as they burnt. His scorpion tail was next. It wasn’t nearly as well protected as the rest of the suit and started to melt into the ground. He couldn’t run even if he tried unless I freed him with magic. His weapons were overheating due to my fire and his. I saw the red lights which signalled complete overheat and stopped my fire. He was completely disabled. He weakly turned his head towards me and his neck seal hissed. I removed his helmet and dropped it on the ground. Maybe Clover could fix it up and make one for me. Obviously resprayed steel grey. I couldn’t bear being a symbol of that corruption.
The stallion started moving his lips. But no sound came. I leaned closer. Relishing in his suffering. My laughter still present. I faintly heard Clover shouting.
“P-please, don’t kill me. I, I have a wi-fe and kids.” This guy was obviously new to the whole ‘For the Enclave!’ horseapples they spouted. Maybe he was different. But I still felt nothing.
“I bet they’re all the perfect little indoctrinated scumbags.” I spat out every word, it disgusted me to even talk to such a monster.
“N-n-no, their good. Engineering folk. M, my dad wanted this life for me. I, just wanted to be an engineer.” I still felt nothing for him. Maybe not all pegasi were ‘Enclave Enslaves’. Not all Enclave were pegasi either. There was still your fair share of traitorous ground walkers who huddled up there. As far as I knew.
“Well, at least they won’t fight back. You’ll all burn in tartarus together.” He looked at me with pleading eyes.
“Please, spare my wife and children. They all have blue manes with little cyan wisps running through them. My wife has a white coat. My first son has a red coat. And, an-d, my daughter has a green coat. Just say my name, W-winter F-f-frost.” I was actually feeling for this stallion. I couldn’t kill him while he was unarmed. That would make me just as bad as them. I extinguished his wings. They were burnt. But not badly enough that a healing potion couldn’t fix him. “Wha-what are you doing?”
“Saving your sorry ass. Don’t make me regret it.” I lifted my faceplate to reveal I was a ghoul. I had this piece of machinery in my throat. Pre-war I had throat cancer. It required the doctors to give me something called a tracheotomy. It made it so I couldn’t speak. So they gave me this weird cybernetic. It allowed me to speak like a normal pony. Not a cheese grater with a voice to match. It helped a whole lot if I had a faceplate or other facial armour. You couldn’t see much skin. Brahmin leather was wrapped around me like a mummy. He flinched and gave a whine.
“Y-you’re, a mutie! You’re really going to eat me!” He started breathing heavily. That’s two panic attacks I caused today.
“No, no, listen to me!” I cuffed him round the head to get him to look at me. Not this again. Is someone really going to faint in front of me just because they saw my face? Again? I was hoping to knock him out and he wakes up back at our room. “Calm down, I’m not going to eat you. Unless you try to hurt anyone I care about. At which point I will make you eat half your own heart.”
“H-half?” He was really, really pale at this point.
“Yes, half. Do you know what will happen to the other half?”
“N-n-no.” He was still hyperventilating. But I needed to scare him really badly otherwise he might have tried to kill me when he woke up.
I smiled and said, “It’ll be on my plate.” The stallion’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. He fainted, I considered leaving him to the wastes. But that would put lower than the Enclave. Maybe I could save one. Just one more pony from being a statistic. I pulled him over my back and levitated the dead pony. Clover was still running towards me. She caught up to me and was panting heavily. She could certainly sprint fast but she didn’t have much stamina.
“Why?!” She glared daggers as she shouted at me.
“What?” I was pretty confused at that. I just saved some stallion from death!
“You, you know full well what you did! You murdered a stallion in cold blood! You relished his death like it was caviar!” Now it was her turn to shout at me. It hit me. I was laughing like a madman as I almost burnt an unarmed stallion to death. Crippling his wings for a month while his feathers grow back. Even with the speedy healing of potions. Oh goddess, did I really go that mental? I know I have a problem, but was it really that bad? I can hardly remember any of it.
“He isn’t dead! I decided to have mercy on those who don’t give it back! He just fainted!” She faltered in her rage before hardening. She wouldn’t back down now.
“It doesn’t matter. You were going to burn him alive then eat him while he’s still alive! Don’t try any ‘oh no I wasn’t where’d you get that idea?’ horseapples! You said you were going to eat them yourself!”
“Well yes, I was. But this one on my back. He isn’t as indoctrinated as the others. He thought of his family and not the ‘glorious empire’. Look, I was wrong to suggest eating him. I was wrong to think of murdering an unarmed sane pony. But I saved this one. I save him from war. Just like I should have done as a Captain.” I sighed and looked away. Too guilty to see those eyes. “I’m, it’s; I’m sorry for being who I am. I can’t change myself that easily. Just know you’ve changed me more than you think. Before you came along I would have eaten and killed him.” I looked back up and I saw a sympathetic face. She held out her hoof, I pressed against it with mine and she let it drop to the ground. I did the same and we turned back towards our room. We could probably get a few days for free. We still weren’t in any rush to get our caps and I’m sure Heartstrings would understand. But we’d probably have used up all of our regular healing potions and would have to get more by the time I get the stallion on my back. Maybe we could salvage some from the other Enclave. I could already hear the hiss of the potions being injected into this stallion’s rump. Mine still full of painful shrapnel. The pain was getting even more intense the more the adrenaline wore off. It felt like a thousand bees attacked my arse. But I was helping this pony first, me second.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, Apple, he’s coming to,” Clover whispered. I scratched my jaw and fixed a big smile to welcome our, ‘guest’, into our care. His weapons were disabled and the wrecked end of the scorpion tail removed. Only thing he had was his super legs.
“Hey there big guy. Welcome back to the land of the living. Well, I’m half-dead but that’s different.” He gave a weak cough and looked around. Obviously disoriented from our journey. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Did I give him a concussion? They focused on me and his eyes rolled back again. “Starswirl’s beard! He fainted again!” Okay, this time, Clover. You greet him, he hasn’t even seen your face before.” We were about to change when a groggy moan came from him. We went back to our original poses. She was going to look like a complete badass and I was going to look like the cheery cheese salesman. I wanted to be the talker for once. I was a pretty suave talker. But she was suaver and most of it was all in the facial muscles anyway. Of which some I lacked control over. As long as they didn’t see my face or body I’d probably be alright. I did have full control of my eyes and mouth however. So I was good enough to pass as a stallion that could get a discount. Until my faceplate came off. “You good now bro?” He looked up at me and shook his head.
“You, you, and what are you going to do to me? I’ve already been contaminated by you ground-lovers and I’m never allowed to return. Why didn’t you kill me? A prisoner for bargain? That’ll never work.” Okay, not the greatest start of conversion. But it’s always slow until it hits them like a train.
“Because you weren’t the ‘For the Enclave’ pegasus I thought you all were. You cared more about your family than the ‘glorious Empire’. You are different, and in Enclave terms. Different is ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine-nine-nine-nine-nine, nine recurring percent good. You are different in the best way, you have compassion for ponies. Not the indoctrination horseapples your PR guys spout.” He looked at me as though he was a defiant prisoner in the hands of a zebra. If he could cough blood and chuckle, he would have. All he did was give me this ‘I’m not losing’ look and a smug smile. He really was hard to get through.
“I’m no better than a Dashite now. I can never go above the cloud cover again. I’ll never be able to see my family. It’s your fault. But they’ll report me as dead if they find the body of my comrade. At least my family will be happy I died a hero.” Oh, time for a more, psychological approach. I turned his head with my chin to show the splayed out, naked body of his wingmate. The bullet hole through her wing clearly evident. I was certainly not a nice pony and Clover certainly was. I turned his head back to me and gave a malicious smile. He vomited into my face.
“That’s bucking nasty!” I started to burn it away from my face with a spell. Hoping the smell of burning puke wouldn’t be too hard on Clover’s nose. I heard a coughing and my hopes were crushed.
“You’re nasty! You killed my comrade and there looks like there are bits taken out! You were gonna eat me!” He was well and truly scared at this his voice quavered. Only the power of the Enclave keeping him awake Oh, well, the mutilation backfired then. Ah, well, at least it scared him shitless. “You are the perfect example of why we still can’t go down here. This place is bucking Tartarus on Equestria!”
Time to take the brutish approach “No, this is the wasteland chum and you’re gonna be living in it. So shut up and listen. I am a ghoul from pre red-dawn. Captain Apple, 5th division of the Royal Equestrian Corps. I am also the pony who saved your sorry ass from being claimed by the wasteland by hauling you and your buddy over there for ten miles. You are going to call me by Apple or Apples. Call me Candy and I’ll punch your lights out. But back to the part where I saved you. No matter what implications that may have. Such as not being able to return to that flying cesspit of lies you call home. Also not dying an ‘honourable’ death by the hand of a ‘mad ground-sucker’. You still owe me a favour for saving your ass. I’m calling that favour in now. I want you to join us. Simple as that. Deny, and I will keep you here against your will until you submit. Go willingly and you will share our profits and losses. This is a whole new war sonny Jim. You better get used to the kindness of the wasteland. Most ponies would have taken away your weapons and killed you. I’ve merely disabled them. I am however, taking away your friend’s suit and using it myself. That means I need your help. The first thing you can do by following the rules of favours is doing this so you have one of your own. Are we clear?!” I had picked up on a few things since boot camp. Specifically the ‘break you down build you up’ strategy employed by my drill instructor. She taught you how to be a different stallion, one who is not afraid. One who is unrelenting. One who is without mercy for the enemy and caring like a mother for your own.
“Crystal, sir.” My rank must have swayed him a bit. He might have only been a sergeant or the equivalent in the aerial forces and his training still suppressing him. But maybe it was sarcasm. “I’ll help you, for that favour of course. And since I have nowhere else to go. I have no choice but to accept your offer. No matter how degrading it is.” Oh that insulting smooth-skin. Joining us is degrading? Well, your mind game won’t work on me. I’m dead set on opening your eyes.
“Hah ha, you’re a funny guy. Just know that humour like that dies on the wastes. I’d think it even more degrading to abandon your own kind to save your own arses.” He struggled against his bonds as I gave the smuggest look in the entire universe. “I’m two-hundred years old me matey, I’ve played with more grey matter than you. Everything I do is calculated for maximum effect. Like murdering you, even in my madness that was still made for optimum pain. First slowly burn you in your suit, then ash what remained of your oh so, sensitive, wings. Then stick my Dragon up your tail hole and press and hold. Slowly it burns its way up your system, painkillers injecting into nothing.” He looked at me in fear. I was a really scary stallion when I needed to be. “Until it reaches your heart. At this point your body would be entering programmed cell death but it wouldn’t be fast enough to end your suffering. If you believe in the multiverse theory. In an infinite number of those you burned alive. However, in another infinite, we are having this chat. So on and so on. Think of those multiverses when you think of crossing me. I’m a ghoul too mate. Surprise doesn’t work either. My sixth sense goes off when something’s about to happen. That’s how I’m half-living and she’s,” - I gestured to the corpse - “well, not. I hope you don’t mind me stripping her of anything technological. I’m doing it anyway mind you. But you could just be fine with it. Wasteland rules bud, two p’s profit and or power. Both of those and you get Tenpony tower. Power itself is the Steel Rangers and Profit would have to be New Pegas. Nice place that. I need to take you there one day if we ever somehow become friends.”
“I doubt we’ll become friends,Candy. Beca-” Wham! I said I would punch his lights out. So I did. It wasn’t a long wait until he woke up. Maybe a few minutes at once.
“Apples! Don’t punch our resident heathen! It’s gonna hurt your hoof!” She wasn’t taking this as seriously as I hoped. But I needed to prove a point.
“Well, he needs to know when I say something, it simply is. How else will we convert someone who believed in that their entire lives? We wouldn’t have converted the Griffons without slow changes. Look, he needs to believe in me as a stallion of power. Then he needs to realise power is gained by force, and only with help. Then he won’t betray us.”
“Wow, you are really one cold bastard. I can kind of see your point, both about not being a good stallion and the slow changes thing.” She really started to doubt my integrity at that point. I make people see the light. A beam of the sun should have been my cutie mark. Not this locksmith one.
“Well, I can certainly say I’ve committed more war crimes than the raiders and Enclave combined. There are a whole lot of things I don’t tell you about my life here before I met you. I said you made me into a better person. I mean it.” A groan signalled our guest was coming to again.
“Wakey wakey rise and shine bud. I told you. Don’t call me Candy, m’kay?” I didn’t really know how to go after this part. I guess I should release him and let him teach clover how to reprogram the suit. It would be damn easy if we still had Candyfloss. He was a guy with a pipbuck. There was a ‘crack-it keep-it’ enforced on the pipbuck. But so far we had no luck. However, since the Enclave suits were built on an earlier model of the software that Floss’s pipbuck was. I guessed it would be pretty similar. “Look, I need that super suit. You need to be free of the binding chains of oppression. Also the physical ones.”
“It won’t fit you anyway. It’s made for mares, not stallions. Your pretty marefriend over there could certainly slip in though.” That would have made me blush, if I could, but only for a second. I looked back and could clearly see she was, and hard.
“Well, that’s good to know. But, she isn’t my marefriend. We’re just companions in the wastes. I said, you can only get the p’s with help. It also boosts your rate of not getting shot in the head.” He lost his footing at this point. I’d successfully closed off anywhere he could gain leverage while reinforcing the fact he needs help. I could see a slight note of defeat in his expression. I win bucko.
“Now, I’m going to remove your bindings and you’re going to accompany me into the workshop and you are not going to attack the ponies in this fair town who just want to make a living.” He looked at me as I removed his bonds. As he hit the ground he bucked his hind legs and launched himself towards me. Clover quickly levitated her rifle and butt him in the face with the stock. He fell like a sack of spuds and lay there. More groggy moans came.
“That, sweetie, is a mare’s kiss,” Clover said. She really pulled off the badass look. That’s going to be intensified by the Enclave power armour. Which I needed to teach her how to wear.
“Hah, I think I’ll have more of those.” He looked up, still smiling. “Fine, I’ll go with you.” I trotted to the door and opened it. Clover went out and I locked the door behind her. She started hitting the door and tried to pick the lock.
“Okay colt. It’s just me and you. I don’t want anything in this room to leave. What’s done and said in here now, stays in here. I’m not going to sweep you up in hugs and kisses any time soon. But if you pull that shit again I’m going to geld you with flames.” I magically held him down and he gulped. “So, you can either follow house rules or you can die. I’m trying to make this as painless as possible. For both me and you. I’m hoping that we can be friends in the near future. -” I heard quiet sniffling. You have to be joking. A soldier of the Enclave is crying. I tilted his head up and he was crying. “- Really? Look, you're a soldier of the Enclave. Not an engineer like your folk.”
“T-that’s just it. I can never go back to my family. I’ll be branded as a dashite and killed! My family will be exiled and shamed! All because of you!” He was openly sobbing at this point and I felt really bad for this stallion. So I decided to drop the interrogator persona.
“Look, mate. I’m sorry about that. I really am. But they’re engineering folk. They won’t recover your bodies either. They could pass it off as cannibalism. Also yes, I did disable both your suits distress beacons. They really were susceptible to heat. Your family won’t have to go down into this hellhole for a while yet. I heard that is what you are doing? It’s all a front, I know that. But you are coming down the surface to scout and see if it’s safe, correct?” He nodded and I released him from his magical bonds. Instead of attacking me, he curled up into a ball. This guy must have been fresh into the military. Boot camp, maybe just basic. “Being a soldier’s hard isn’t it.”
“Ho-how would you know?” I sighed; he didn’t even listen to me when I stated name and rank. He must have made a conscious effort to hold the tough guy act up.
“Because, as I said. Captain Apples at your service. I’m a ghoul, so that means I been here pre-war. I was a good one too, not to toot my own horn or anything. But I was. I was also a nicer guy. What made me a sick and twisted bastard was the wasteland. Who helped me? Well, that would be the lass who gun butted you in the head. She sees the good in ponies. She saw the good in you too. Even if you were unconscious at the time. We want to help you. Break you out of your mould and open your eyes.” He was still curled up into a ball. I noticed the banging stopped but she was still trying to pick the lock.
I trotted over to him and gave him a hug to cheer him up. He returned it, then he kissed me. Not like a peck on the cheek or anything. No, I felt his tongue pushing past my teeth and into my mouth. In a faraway place I heard the lock click and the door flew open the Clover gasped. It must have looked really weird seeing us two stallions like that. I was still frozen until she gasped. At which point I leaped away like I stood on a frag mine.
“Oh dear Luna! What the hell bro! I was giving you a hug to cheer you up!” It left a weird tingle on my lips. I tried to wipe it off while rolling on the floor like I was on fire. I was levitated into the air by Clover and couldn’t move a muscle. Then I saw his face. It was the most defeated and sad expression I have ever seen. I don’t even know why he kissed me. I knew that my breath stank and just look at me. I look like someone grated my face off! But the expression still made me incredibly guilty. Clover span me around and dropped me onto the floor. When I saw his face upside-down I felt guilty. When I was saw it right side up I felt like I was the most evil bastard in the entire world. But he had a wife and kids! How could he be gay? “Oh, goddess, I overreacted. I’m sorry, really. I just didn’t expect it. You said you have a wife and kids though. How could you be gay?”
“Because the Enclave only has a very limited amount of space to work with agriculturally. So being gay saves mouths to feed. My father however wanted me to have children. So I did. But my wife knew I was gay and was okay with it. It’s fine though. I just thought you were too. Because you said she wasn’t your marefriend.”
“Yeah, I guess I gave a couple of the wrong signals. Boy this is sure getting awkward. I think we best go straight to that warehouse,” I said. I was still a little shocked by what he said, and did. I opened the door again and walked through myself. Winter was a real character. A gay stallion who both unwillingly was made to have a wife and kids then sent to the military. No wonder he cracked so damn quickly. He already had, he was just being held together by propaganda and bubble-gum. Speaking of which, I had no bubble gum to chew. We started walking to the warehouse and he looked around. Earning a couple of suspicious stares from the residents. Considering their only information of Enclave came from me and that DJ-PON3 talk show host. It was more than a little negative. But it was all true.
We walked inside the workshop. It wasn’t lit by anything but we needed closed doors. I light up a few colourful animals to illuminate the place. A phoenix, a dragon, and some fireflies. I made them fly around with the fireflies hovering over the suit. It was in good condition. A couple cracks from the fall. But the suit repairs itself with scrap as long as there is an alive occupant. We were going to respray it gunmetal grey when we found the colour for it. But for now it was that ugly Changeling Black. Speaking of changelings, I still wonder what happened to them. They always proclaimed neutrality.
“Well, first you’re going to need to suit up. Then we can reset the biological identification to factory defaults then just run a couple firmware updates so it doesn’t think it’s been pirated. So, suit up!” Clover looked at me, I nodded, pretty sure I could burn her out the suit if he was lying. She trotted up to the suit. Its chest opened like legionnaire armour and absorbed her. The hoof guards closed around her. Going down until it reached her chest at which point the breastplate closed. I heard a muffled ‘ow’ and I turned to Frost. “That’s just it taking a biological sample. It will reject it then lock up. At which point I can reset it.” I heard a few dings and a powering down sound. That must be the lock-up. He went over and unlocked a panel near the base of the spine. He reached back to his own back and, after a couple bangs, pulled out a stable-tec wire. Jackpot, we can get the pipbuck with that. He connected it to the slot and waved his forehoof at random points in the air. When I heard a couple dings and the suit Clover wore powered up again. “Captain Apples, the suit is back to factory defaults. But she can’t use it until the updates have been downloaded. Which should be a couple days. Also, where is the rail gun? She was the one who had it.”
“It’s mine now. It’s a big shiny doom gun that perforated my ass. She’s a stealthy pony and I don’t know about you. But as soon as I can get my hands on another Steel Ranger T-45 I’m mounting this puppy on.”
“That ‘big shiny doom gun’ is fired manually. The suit isn’t required. It’s a recoilless R- 2077 model. One of the first stages before the war began. Still in service now as no major advancements has been made.” Well, this guy’s a techie. Just get him to talk about his craft and introduce him to Clover. They’ll be on a babbling loop of repair jargon and it’ll all come in smiles. Or so I hope.
“Ar Dash? Really, even though you hate the first of those to open their eyes. You still honour them by naming your most BA gun in the world after her?”
“It’s just a designation, nothing’s meant buy it. I can’t even see how you made the connection. Or how you know about dashites.” Wow, this guy is one dense mofo.
“Look, I met one a long time ago. They never told me their name. But I know what they are. On the ‘designation’. Let me spell this out for you, R Dash, Rainbow Dash. Do you see it now?”
“Yes yes, I see it. What you don’t see, is that Clover is still trapped inside that suit. Because you forgot about her. Plus, since it was powered down and needs firmware updates. The breather won’t work.” He still had the cable connected to her. He floated his hoof and the suit opened up again. Spitting out a limp Clover which I grabbed before she hit the ground. Oh dear Luna, don’t tell me she’s dead. Please don’t be dead because of me. Please don’t be another. I went to check her pulse when she started coughing and retching in my arms.
“You left me inside that suit for at least twenty minutes. By the look of it I got out just in time to avoid brain death. Great job you do of keeping me alive, eh?” She never took anything as serious as I hoped her to. It got pretty annoying at times. But I think if I did that to any other pony I’d probably be in a chokehold right now. She tackled me to the ground. I forgot the shrapnel was still in my ass. That brought it back with a vengeance.
“I still have bits of magnetic metal in my ass. Some of it incredibly close to my spine.” I’d be damned if I even showed one second of pain to our new companion.
“Oh, hey, in the interest of favours. I have a couple healing potions that you can use.”
“Pfft, we used seven on you. That won’t cut it pretty boy. -” He blushed at that. I still felt bad about rejecting him like type A blood being injected to a type AB-. Whatever, I was never good with metaphors. “- Also, my ghoul body apparently doesn’t accept potions. I need to go to a rad pit. Filled with unsightly creatures and accelerating my chugging train into loony town. I had a pal who went feral. He told me the stages of it after a little coaxing. Hallucinations telling you power awaits if you just give in to the other presence. I shrugged the ‘other presence’ stuff off. But lately I did feel as if something is sharing my brain. The level of intelligence is nothing more than a dead rat though. So it was a long way off and even then he made it look as though it was a choice.
“Really, are all ghouls like that?”
“Nope, even in half-death I’m still unique. Clover, you can get up now and y’know, join in.”
“I’m good thanks; uuuugh.” She slumped back down onto the floor and I levitated her above my head.
“Sleep well my little pony. We still have a mission.”
“Er, what’s that? Killing ponies?” The stallion was obviously completely brainwashed by the Enclave.
“No, that’s what happens if insane ponies get weapons. No, we are simply telling Silver Lining that we delivered her package to Golden Dawn. Then we’re off to the camp outside Tenpony tower to deliver a letter. Really boring actually.” If this colt goes and says how the Enclave tells different, I swear to Luna I will facehoof with much gusto.
“Wait, but the Enclave sa-” That was it, a large clop was heard.
“Yes, the Enslavers say a whole lot of horseapples. Then give you pictures of the mad as a hat raiders who rape and pillage and generally are not good ponies. Apparently they are ponies who have simply had their hopes crushed and lost their souls to the corruption we call the wasteland. We’re taking yours back from the corruption in the sky. Twinkle twinkle okay bye.” He looked at me as though I was madder than a raider. Well, I guess the last statement was a little odd. But what I said before kind of sounded like Twilight Twilight little Star. Except with corruption and not diamonds. “We best be going back to our room. By any chance, do you have bottle caps?” We started trotting to our room to lay Clover on the bed
“Erm, yeah. How did you know, are you gonna call me weird like everypony else?”
“No-no, I’m congratulating you. You successfully have the best obsession the world could ever give you. Bottle caps are money my friend, so how many do you have?” Oh my word this guy has the best vice ever. Shame we have to spend it.
“I, uh, about one-twenty since I couldn’t pack much into a suit. I do have a few bits though. Are they money too?” He showed me the golden coins and I laughed.
“Don’t be silly, out here we couldn’t make bits without actually having a group effort, haha. Oh damn that’s sad. But hey, we can still use that to get currency. Because the old vending machines seem to be made of ‘Stable-Technium’. The invincible material that Stable-Tec made and still survives today. Steel Rangers, robots, hey, even you! Anyway, yeah. We can use the bits to get Nuked-Sparkle-Cola and Sunrise Sarsaparilla. Which somehow avoided being radiation in a bottle like a good beer. Which sucks, because I don’t get anything unless it has rads in it.” Beer was actually surprisingly radiation resistant. Even with the extreme dirtiness in the bombs it was relatively unharmed. They packed a shit ton of fissile material and even some cobalt when they could. They just wanted everything to die. They wanted to watch the world burn away.
I opened the door, levitated the covers down and put her down. I tucked her in and trotted over to the couch when I remembered that our third member needs sleep too. Silly smooth-skins and your silly needs. Oh well, I once needed them too. He trotted through the door and the armour did that weird releasing thing. The Steel ranger armour would just open the hoofguards in one long slit, same with the breastplates.
“So, where do I sleep? And where do you? The couch or something?” I laughed again.
“No no, I don’t sleep, like, ever ever ever ever. Yes, even ever ever ever ever forever! You can sleep on the couch.”
“I thought guests got the bed.”
“They do, and you did. Then you became our companion. So bed privileges revoked. Plus I don’t want you doing any freaky stuff with Clover while I go on my nightly canter.”
“I’m gay, remember?” he deadpanned. Oops. He got up and took a place next to my side. “I’m not tired either. So I’ll join you on your walk because we need to talk about a couple things. Don’t think that I even can run away however. Because you know, you burnt off my wings!” He cuffed me round the back of the head. I guess I kind of deserved it. But he hit hard. It felt like the gauss rifle all over again.
“Yeah, and you tried to murder me. So we’re even in my eyes.” I opened the door and trotted out onto the railing, then he slapped my rump. The pain of the shards and embarrassment almost made me flop to the ground. God damn taunting bastard. I wouldn’t want to be in the same foals’ school as him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We were cantering along the path when I finally decided to speak up. I was content to trot in silence the whole trip. Just me and my thoughts. But he looked bored and tired. I brought the 45. Auto pistol Clover insisted I buy specifically for my canters. It was sitting snugly in my holster. He had his battle saddle on with small laser pistols at the sides which was fitted for him especially as it didn’t make that annoying rustling sound every time he took a step.
“Why did you go so easily? I don’t think any other colt would go from complete evil to a companion fighting evil. I just don’t get it. Why?”
“Because, my life there was hell. While being gay is socially acceptable. Being bisexual is completely not somehow. I was a complete outcast. I didn’t get any of the food increases for my sexuality. I just got the soldier one. We had to buy from the black market to support our family. At least now that I’m ‘dead’ they’ll get my soldier grain and some widow grain. It’s good in a way, at least my family will be honoured. My dad will be happy, and they’ll all be okay.”
“You realised the system didn’t work for you eh? It works for the Enclave. But that still doesn’t explain why you converted so easily.”
“Because the o’ great and powerful Enclave damned my family. It explains it all. You volunteer to go beneath the clouds into danger for some more food. I did because we needed all we could get. I could also die there too. I would be honoured, my family would get food. Even though they’d mourn for me, they would be okay. Now, you might think. ‘Why not commit suicide?’ Because then my soldier food wouldn’t be given, my actual food would be taken away and they would have to live off of something everypony called ‘Dashites grain’. They would also be publicly shamed.” I knew this guy was stomped on by his pa but this, this just elevated the Enclave to a shit list entirely consisting of them. And the princesses.
“What’s your opinion on the princesses?”
“Well, they were our monarchs, always searching for peace and a way so their ponies could be safe. They tried tirelessly to -” I interrupted him, nothing could amount to that level of horseapples in my eyes. Ignorance was bliss and this really showed it. I want to open his eyes. No point in being a hypocrite.
“Let me guess, the Enclave said that. How about you get info from a soldier who fought in the war. Watched ponies and zebras die in the war. Watched the world burn. That was because of the princesses. They started this. They valued coal over ponies’ lives. -” He tried to interrupt me, looking angry. As though I was the one who was a lying cheating evil ruler. “Bubububu, no. Hold it and let me finish. As said, they valued their coal over ponies’ lives. At this point the reservoir of the Crystal Kingdom had been unlocked. The crystals re-grew incredibly quickly. It would have even produced jobs. The zebras wanted more crystals because they thought we were ripping them off. We asked for a larger amount of coal. They refused until we upped our crystal export. We didn’t. Now look at everything. Crystals ain’t worth jack diddly out here unless they’re in a gun or a bomb. Coal still is however, because we need trains again.
Bucko, we are completely done. We reached the atomagic age. Even science fiction writers foretold this point would most likely be our death. We were a type zero. I don’t know what we are now. Minus one? We need to let go of our past worlds and build anew. Use them as what we shouldn’t become. Otherwise, well, look around you. We can’t get past this madness unless we all band together and leave the old world blues behind. I heard ponies are trying. Failing hard too. I just want to get away. To my own little happy world birthed from flame. If that means I must turn this one around then I shall. But I’m still looking for other options. Like a farm somewhere in Griffonia.” He looked at me as though I was strange. I was really getting sick of that.
“Griffonia was torched Apple. Nothing grows there. Why do you think so many Griffins live here now?” I was not going to believe a single word from someone who had just said the princesses had rainbows and butterflies flying out their arses.
“Yeah yeah, and you said the princesses were good ponies. Well no, I do concede in halves. Luna, she was a good mare. A warlike mare adjusting to peace, because her sister made her that way. According to history she held the element of laughter. Well, that was almost completely gone. When the war started she shifted into a different mare. Not the one who I used to come to Ponyville to see on Nightmare Night. She was a shell of her former self. Guiding troops like it was muscle memory. The Luna I saw would think of everypony on the board. A battalion of hearts, souls, and minds. Sometimes I think she went into their dreams.” At that moment my sixth sense sprang up like a rash. “Look alive pal, we got company. My sixth sense is tingling.”
“Strip the flesh and salt the wound!” Raiders, but of course dear wasteland. A beginner course for our dear friend.
“Ooh, raiders, haven’t had these in a while. Quick crash course. Some of these guys have tried to beat me to death with my, and their, legs.”
“But you still have yours, are the raiders secretly school bullies or something?”
“No, they ripped off my arm and beat me with it. Rads are amazing aren’t they?” We started backing together. I really, really thank Clover for making me bring this pistol. It wouldn’t be the first time I had to beat a stallion to death with his own pool cue. Sure I could use spells, but they wore me out quickly. Side effect of being a ghoul I suppose. Or just general disuse. I heard them again, much closer. We were under a flickering streetlamp in what is basically a ditch with a road through it. The perfect situation for madness.
“I wanna tear him a new asshole and rape him with it!” That one was overused as hell. I don’t know how many times they’ve said that. It’s like they're limited to only 42 phrases or something.
“Dear goddess, shut up you crazy wankers!” I shouted over the buzzing hive of rape and stab.
“Are they really gonna do that?” Winter asked. What a complete newbie. I checked my 45. Auto pistol as the shouts got incredibly loud. It sounded like too many of them to be a simple band. This was an entire camp of them!
“No, because we are going to massacre them. We are also going to run. It sounds like at least fifty. Insane amount really.” We bolted off down the road away from the town. We didn’t want them to be led straight to our base filled with ponies. Then we saw them through the dark. They were coming at us from everywhere. “Well, running denied. Fight like a cornered hellhound and don’t show them your ass. They say what they mean. Most raiders have this built in sense to stop hacking at a pony when they are at the brink of death. They drag them back to their camp, and rape them. Not very fun, as you should know, I love fun and I hate boring. So, get fired up.” They were within accurate shooting distance now. I fired as fast as my magic could pull the trigger. A clip ready each time it emptied. They, fell row after row. But there was more than fifty. I heard his lasers firing like a Gatling gun then a muffled cry as they abruptly stopped. I turned to see a raider chopping at his forelegs. One bullet to the brain and a quick double tap, she was gone. I turned around to get a pool cue smashed into my face. I took the pool cue and started beating him to death with it before spearing it through another ones eye.
“There’s too many Apple! What are we gonna do! They’re, they’re gonna capture us and skin us, rape us and eat us!”
“Maybe not even in that order. I’m really wishing that I didn’t burn your feathers off right now. But when I charge up a really big fire spell. You’re going to have to fireman grab me and carry me through the weak spot it made. Unless you say, have a metric ton of excess radiation that I could suck up?” We kept firing at the oncoming horde as a fire spell brewed up in my head. My rapid fire slowed as I concentrated more on the spell. I levitated it to my mouth. It was unicorn only, having no mouth grip in exchange for a larger magazine.
“How can you joke in a time like this?!” I heard his lasers stop their constant onslaught and then restart. He was firing too much, any more and his guns might go into shutdown.
“Easy! Two ponies walk into a bar; you think the second guy would’ve seen it! Now kill more madmen!” You had to shout to hear over their screams. It was a deafening chorus of rape. Which sounds more than a little odd. The spell was almost ready. It was going to be a real, blast.
“What is wrong with you?! We’re on the brink of dying and you just -” I heard a scream as he fell. He wasn’t dead because I heard his screams over their shouts.
“I’m the second guy and I certainly didn’t see that!” I had to finish the spell. Gather enough power to gallop away with a fifty kilo stallion on my back. All within the space of ten seconds. I felt a bullet rip its way through my flesh and come out a fist sized hole in the other size. I unleashed the spell and collapsed. It was just too much, I couldn’t even get up. Then I felt a bite on my neck and was hefted into somepony’s back as the whine of lasers filled the air. I used the last of my power to levitate the 45. Auto, shoot a raider and holster it.
“Always carry potions.” I lost consciousness after that. It was a dream world of hazy images. Me in the desert, my skin falling off. Me in my nice white suit. Me burning a house. Then nothing, like my life flashed before my eyes. But a lot of it was missed out as though it wasn’t important. Even though I was amazing and my entire life was and is important.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Level Up! Tough Guy: You gain +4 DT against conventional and energy weapons and when under 50% health ignore crippled limbs!
Quest perk added! Fear the Reaper: You gain perks at one per level instead of one every two! But death comes knocking and leaves with 10% of your health.
Quests! Delivery Colt: Return to Silver Lining
Blackbird: Deliver the letter to the Talon’s up near Tenpony Tower!
See the light: Convert your newfound buddy!
Quest notes! See the Light: He switched rather quickly. Be suspicious even if his backstory explains it.
Blackbird: Well, they were clearing out ghouls. Look at you. Wear a mask you ugly pony.
Chapter Two: Death Comes a Knockin'!
Chapter Two: Death comes a knockin'!
This was an odd experience. I was dead apparently. That or I was just having the weirdest dream I could never have. We were sitting at a table in Canterlot, the place was called The Grassy Knoll. The other pony across from me is probably the only soul to look uglier than me. But they are wearing a snazzy Stetson and a leather trench coat, obviously from Griffonia. They’ve been looking at me for the past ten minutes or so. I was going to have to make the first move.
“So, who are you?” I had a pretty good guess, but maybe I was just having a super weird dream in my unconsciousness.
“Well, can’t you tell?” The pony had a cheery salesman voice, but not grating on the ears. They were male because of the tone. At least it was a happy voice.
“Well, the Grim Reaper I guess.” It was pretty easy, the lack of facial tissue, or anything resembling flesh anywhere else and the horn that looked as though it was the end of a scythe was a dead giveaway.
“That’s good, shaves roughly three minutes of our time off. You technically aren’t dead yet. So we have time to chat. Don’t ask the first question that pops into your head. Yes, I do like it because I was created to reap souls. It all got a bit much though when the spells fell. At least three billion ponies. I can’t imagine what the zebra reaper must have been thinking. Then it kind of petered off to a level where I could laze about all day. After those horrible raiders came it started picking up again. Even though they were tough nuts by wasteland standard they screamed more than a bit when they saw me.
Oh, another question on your mind should be ‘why here?’ The answer to that is simple; this is your favourite café right? It is actually called the Café of Broken Dreams. Not even I know what its true shape is. I imagine it as that café in the Gallopers Garden or one from the New Pegas Strip. Before the spells fell it was actually this café. It seemed they had a lot of customers.” This pony must be the only pony to live longer than me. I did kind of prepare myself for dying and this is really quite pleasant. I wonder if my friends will die in the same fashion.
“Ok, I guess you could call this my third question. Why am I dressed up in my old suit and tie?” It was a nice, clean, white suit. It had a red tie running down. It was the highest class morning wear you could ever get. So why was it night?
“Because it was morning when we started. The cycle of the sun is how long you have left to live. It’s been going really slowly as well; which is nice. Because then I get to talk to someone. You can understand if my boss is a bit distant. You know, dealing with everything and its passage into the underworld. We still have a backlog of one thousand zebras but that should be gone in a week then we can move on to the wasteland ponies.” Slowly? It’s been going rather fast actually; I’ve only been here six or seven minutes.
“Slowly you say, it’s only been seven minutes!”
“Yeah, but that equates to about twenty-one hours of you dead. Wait, hold on, it’s going backwards. Are you undying or something? I met this one guy who was. There is only one café even though it’s infinitely large and has infinite rooms so you can’t see him at the moment. He sits in a table a couple doors down. Sipping on coffee, from what he told me he got bored of outliving everything in the universe twice over he just went to the very middle of the universe and became eternally dead and undead. Name was Wade I think. He is eternally stuck on day and night and after a while he exhausted all his stories. There’s only so much one immortal can tell you.” He looked at the now sun going the opposite direction as did I. My friends must have dropped me into a rad pit I guess. The sun was only just peeking up though. So I guess I had five minutes left to chat to this guy.
“So, um yeah. I guess I just can’t die really. Well that’s certainly good. Any interesting people who weren’t immortal?”
“Yeah, there was this one drummer. He kind of thought his death was ‘epic’. It was pretty funny though. Sad, but funny, he died because of this ten pound cheaply made pony skull fell on his head. He was pretty cool after he got over it. He had a couple regrets so he couldn’t leave until those ends were tied. That gave me a few more minutes. Most of them just scream and die again, which instantly transports them away. Or just scream until fifteen minutes have passed. I just leave them there really. No point in listening to some mare bawling in your face when you could possibly find a cool drummer.”
“Oh, since you’re otherworldly and all. Could you tell me why my friend kissed me? I mean, you saw me before I died right? I look like bad sunburn and the victim of a cheese grater.”
“Oh that, erm. I could tell you the full story, but it wouldn’t be fun then. I’ll give you a little hint though. Let’s see, hmm. Ah, got one. Your hugs are incredibly soft.”
“That tells me nothing. Like zero help at all,” I deadpanned. Was he actually serious and thought that’s why or was he just joking?
“I’m just pulling your leg; I’m not actually giving you a hint. Because as I said it wouldn’t be fun.” It was the second option. So at least death wasn’t out of touch. “Well, sun’s almost gone the full way. It was real nice chatting to you. I hope we meet again soon. Otherwise it’d get boring. I’m going to be watching over you though. So don’t die stupidly like fall off a cliff or anything.” The world started to melt away until it was just a white box with a door. He got up from the chair and trotted out the door. It made a little bell chime then it all faded away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I groaned. Everywhere felt like I had bone marrow taken out, my horn especially. I was on my back, so I looked forwards. I really shouldn’t have looked forwards. There were at least twenty or thirty Cazadorables watching me. I tried to reach for my weapon when I found I had nothing. Not even my armour. At least I could run away faster then. I shot up onto my hooves and hoofed it out. I got progressively better as I galloped away. But I had nowhere to go, it was a trench like the one filled with raider and it was littered with a few Cazadorable corpses and a long drag mark through the middle. I kept on galloping through the trench when I heard the buzzing of wings behind me. I looked back, and the biggest Cazadorable was on my tail. It was at least six hooves high. I was getting better at running though. As though I was in a radiation pit. Which would explain my continuing status of alive. Eventually I felt the onset of radiation overdose. Which when you were a ghoul, was like Flash. Everything slowed as though you were under water. But you moved at faster than normal speed. The Cazadorable was left in the dirt and quickly flew back to its own cave.
I had absolutely no idea where I was. I looked back at the ditch. I realised I still had the communicator.
“Clover, Clover? What the fuck? Why am I in the middle of nowhere?” I heard nothing but low static in my ear. I looked up and around. Above the ditch I saw a cluster of buildings. Then a giant radar dish with parts of it missing. It was my best bet to finding out where I was. An old world map would be great, but a pipbuck would be even better. If I could just find honey caves or Pearl’s Haven, I’d be good. They were probably still held up there. I told Clover to wait at those two places if we ever got separated. I would make my way there and we would regroup. Now we had Frost who better have listened to Clover.
I trotted around the rad trench. The buildings were up on a hill and I saw a winding path slowly going up like a corkscrew. They had to put the longest path around didn’t they? I started going up the hill and was advancing to a low building. My rad powers still building. This place was some megaspell testing facility or something. The amount of rads was steadily increasing. I started hearing slowed voices. Female voices, female voices speaking in unison. Oh gee bloody whiz. The mighty alicorns pitted against an unarmed stallion. I hoped to sneak past them and was just about to when I bumped into something. My first thought was one of those invisible dog things which no-one had a name for. Then I hit my head on it and gulped. It was an alicorn.
“Sisters, we have an intruder. It was small and invisible. Rather the same as a nightstalker. Glory to the Goddess.”
“Do not worry sister. They are afraid to attack our might. It will die. Glory to the goddess” Phew, I’m not toasty cheese. I had sneaked round her; my speed increased to where only sound travelled. They moved as though they were made of ice. Then came my eyes, my eyes started to burn. It was so bright, then it toned down and I saw them. Blue alicorns, blue alicorns everywhere. I could only see the outline but it was good enough. I walked past the invisible statues and reached the top. Then I saw some of them moving about at normal speed. Green and purple ones thankfully. I wouldn’t be able to see them otherwise. Then everything started speeding up but the alicorns moved at the same speed throughout. The radiation was bleeding off faster than I’d hoped. Everything got incredibly bright again then faded to my original eyesight. I made a beeline for the closest building and found it unlocked. That would have sucked if it was. I had no lock picks and I can’t use precision telekinesis to perform the magic pick. I slipped inside. There was a plethora of weapons. Then there was a suit of Steel Ranger T-44g. I never thought I’d see one of those again. It had a hole in the top the perfect size for a unicorn horn. Unlike other models which required the unicorn to cut their horn off. They were incredibly costly to produce and were unreliable too. I spent about ten minutes putting it on when the nice blue HUD flashed up. Wait, blue? That was my colour and it was set to green as default, maybe some other stallion had them. Maybe this was the default colour and this place was the testing room for it. The walls were made of heavily reinforced concrete. There were racks everywhere with different weapons on each of them. Even a battle saddle. But that was for small weapons only. Ones I could easily levitate. Then I saw something big and shiny in the distance. I galloped over, the suit responding exactly like I thought it would. The HUD itself was still configuring, me being ‘dead’ might have confused its vital readings. A small message popped up in the HUD.
Welcome back, Sergeant Major Apples. You have been inactive for: 200 years.
ERROR: Sergeant Major Apples NOT FOUND. SEARCHING ‘Candy Apples’
Captain Candy Apples Found. How would you like me to refer to you Captain?
I couldn’t remember how to respond to this. I think it was voice controlled, but who knows who might be lurking around.
“Captain Apples, just Captain Apples,” I whispered.
‘Captain Apples’ selected. Hello Captain Apples. Are you in any relation to ‘Sergeant Major Apples’?
“Yes, we are the same people.” I don’t remember the ‘dumb’ AI being this annoying. It was pausing the final suit configuration process.
Captain Apples, how was your day?
“Fine, please go on standby and continue suit configuration process.” A small beep and the message flashed off to be replaced by a bar almost filled. I heard a ding and everything was set. It did show me as alive, and not a corpse. I just hoped it wouldn’t lock up at the most inopportune moment. I saw the shiny thing again. It was a lovely, lovely, missile launcher. I levitated it around my side and tried to fit it to the built in battle saddle. I heard a clank and it retracted to my side. I felt the weight slightly tip me and it made it hard to go and more than a trot. I tried to find another but couldn’t. Then I saw another shiny thing. I trotted over as quietly as this half ton beast could. It was glorious, not an anti-material rifle. But a high velocity sniper. More than enough for ten alicorns. I slung that across my back onto the magnetic seal. I tried to find another weapon to balance the launcher but all I found was a 44. Magnum and a 12.7 submachine gun. Both added to the other side. I probably still couldn’t gallop at full speed but as fast as I could do in this suit anyway.
I found a locked box as I was heading out. I had to search for some bobby pins but I managed to find three. It was a pretty simple lock. Like the one you would find in a cheap door. In it though was a plethora of ammunition. Even some fluid for my Dragon. I dumped it all in the ammo slots and I waited for it to sort and place them around. When you wore this suit it was like you were a big ammo rack. I found and packed everything I could into the armour’s storage and prepared to face the alicorns. I rushed in doing it and made quite a lot of noise. I looked at the door, took a deep calming breath, and trotted over to open it.
The door opened, I really wish it hadn’t. There were two purple alicorns waiting outside. I activated my newly recovered S.A.T.S and shot the first with the 44. and the second with the 12.7. Without their shields they dropped like stones. The other two had time to activate their shields and I backpedalled back inside. They galloped after me and had to drop their shields as they went in. The 44. and 12.7 fired again. Four alicorns within thirty seconds. That’s a new academy record soldier!
“Come at me you bastards!” Is what I would have shouted heroically, but it came out as ‘wrbleweubteesrd’ which blew my badassery out the water. Then the wall exploded. They stepped in with their shields still raised, my small weapons pinging off their shields. The alicorns started charging up a spell, one green, one purple. The green one appeared to be feeding energy into the purple one. The purple one’s horn had an overglow set over it. Then one over that, then another, then another. I turned away, blew a hole in the wall next to me and jumped out as the biggest beam of pure energy I ever saw vaporized everything of where I was. It stopped for only a second at the reinforced concrete before it burst through. Then every other alicorn in a three mile vicinity flew over. The majority was blue. Which had weak spells and relied on ambushes. I started firing everything while backpedalling again. This time towards another building. It looked important and big. Two stories of solid concrete. But with the last encounter with a hyper beam of death. I was going to be in and out as soon as possible. One alicorn dropped their shield in my onslaught and quickly was blown to smithereens. Another did the same as I reached the building, a quick 44. to the face fixed her problem of living. I kept my submachine gun firing and flipped over the rocket launcher and aimed for the door. It blew open and I galloped inside. I wasn’t tired at all. It was probably a combination of the leftover radiation and the massive amount of adrenaline coursing through my system. I turned and sprinted inside. I levitated a few of the frag mines I ‘acquired’ and placed them at the floor like breadcrumbs, deadly breadcrumbs. Follow that you flying rats!
Door to your right my boy. Open it and gallop as fast as you can. You will reach the trench again. Keep running until you are free of the alicorns. They cannot leave this place yet.
I looked to my right and sure enough there was a door. The suit was somehow self-aware and psychic. What are you? I thought as I galloped to the door. I smashed into it and it snapped open. Right into another alicorn, bowling her over.
I’m the stallion you had a chat with a bit back.
Death was in my unreliable suit. Great, the Grim Reaper was actually in my unreliable suit. He did say he was watching and my life was interesting. So I trusted him and kept galloping until I got to the edge of the hill. There was a sheer drop of at least fifty meters into a place infested with Cazadorables. Which should be named ‘Mean Motherfuckers’ in honour of their displeasure at everything alive.
Go on, jump! Do you want to face that death ray again? I’m sure something will catch you.
Death was telling me to jump, to my own death. Well, it’s that or assured death, I reasoned. I jumped, yelling as I picked up speed in my lead zeppelin. Just before I hit the ground something squishy broke my fall. It was one of the Mean Motherfuckers. I fell into the pit and sunk slightly. The bowl shape combined with the trench reminding me of a really long thermometer. I rolled over and sprang up onto my hooves. I ground pounded as I felt the first shockwaves of small spells being fired down. I heard roars and the Mean Motherfuckers charged up the cliff to attack the group of things alive. Instead of the one pony who was alive.
Okay, unorthodox, but good. I’m leaving now, I have to go and say sorry to the reaper of the Cazadorables, or ‘Mean Motherfuckers’ as your calling them now.
I gave Death silent thanks as I left. Death liked me, so I didn’t die, rather ironic really. I felt the radiation start to up my systems and I sprinted for the end of the trench. I heard screams of fury and pain from both the Mean Motherfuckers and the alicorns. A stray spell hit me in the side and luckily avoided the sniper rifle. It, however, hit the submachine gun which promptly exploded and sent bullets everywhere. Including inside the battle saddle, in the armour, then into me where it ricocheted around but the wounds it was causing were healed up quickly by the radiation still present. The cries were growing more and more distant until I could hardly hear them as the entrance grew closer. Just as I was about to leave, a purple alicorn dropped in front of me and dug in the dirt. The shield went up before I could fire my killing blow and it simply bounced off her shield. I started unloading my missile launcher as I levitated up my rifle. I could see the cuts on her body and her shield was more transparent and flickering. It failed her completely and she dropped to the ground. Heaving and coughing blood. I stood over her, blocking out the glare of the radar dish up above.
“M-mercy,” she said. Oh hell no, you ain’t getting a single bit you remorseless monster. I unhooked my revolver and pushed it up against her muzzle.
“Did I kill five of you, or six? That’s the question that should be running through your head. -” I pushed the gun against her harder and made her neck bend. She looked me in the eye. “So, do ya feel lucky, punk? Do ya?” She tried to whisper something but a bullet interrupted that. Coming out the other side with a large amount of brain and skull with it. “Could’ve sworn it was six. Oh well, she was remorseless anyway. I’m sure she’ll get over it one day.” I placed the 44. back in its proper place as well as the sniper and dropped off the wrecked submachine gun. I looked through my inventory until I found a ten millimetre and that took its rightful place by my side. It was oddly heavier than the 12.7 even though it fired a much smaller bullet. The balance was in complete equilibrium. Unlike my mind; which was still thinking of meeting Death, getting help from Death, then cheating Death. He was rather kind soul in retrospect. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around why he chose me or why I didn’t have a heart attack as soon as I met him.
I checked my map and said, “Death, you there bud? I’m going to be trottin’ for about six days to a week. Because somepony dropped me off at the edge of the world in the middle of nowhere.” I accused Death for this. I guess maybe he helped me because he sent me here. For fun I guess, couldn’t blame him even though it was annoying. He was immortal, must get a bit boring and mentally scarring watching the raiders invent new and more painful ways to rape anything that moved.
Yes, I’m here. Also no, it wasn’t my fault you got dropped off here! It was the Café! I swear on my creator’s unlife that it was not me. I have no part in where it drops first timers because it isn’t supposed to drop them at all. The Wade guy, first time he died? Ended up in Germaney. Wait, no, not Germaney, Germaney. Hah, very funny two hundred year dead scientists. Put an auto correction in. Okay, fine, let's spell it out then. G-E-R-M-A-N-EY. Sigh, gosh darnit. Well, it’s that country without the second ‘E’
“Slow down please, I’m not a super reader. I haven’t read anything in over fifty years. Wait, how did you know I thought you plopped me over here?”
Because I can read your thoughts. You didn’t have to say anything. This suit is thought controlled, not voice controlled. Ah, explains why it responded as soon as I finished talking. It had a slower processing time than its descendants and was a second late in a reply because it was the first to have thought process technology. Modified off of voice processors. So a bit slow on the uptake. I am actually a bit surprised you didn’t suspect your new pal back home. Well, no, I could see you were intelligent the moment you appeared in the café. But usually they at least blame someone else before me about their death. But their death is scripted to happen at a certain time. You and your folk don’t have that time. You ‘die’ at your scripted times. You get a bit ill then you live again. So, it’s a nice surprise when you pony’s visit.
“I’m just going to keep talking, maybe start thinking when say; raiders are trying to murder me again. Then I can jack the pipbuck and throw this suit away after Cloves is done with it. Then I can become a giant doom lord of fire and rain. Well, not permanent rain. Because then there couldn’t be any fire. Or I can become a farmer and a food lord and monopolise the food business. Fun thing about monopoly, which is a game, is that you should always pick the fancy hat. Always bring a fancy hat piece. Because one of your friends might not have a fancy hat and you’ll be sad because you couldn’t get Canterlot Way and the Fillydelphia railways and you go bankrupt because no-one lands on the Ace Trick streets. But I’m rambling again and you probably don’t want to hear it. Unless you do, at which point you could listen to the stuff I did.”
You are a very odd man indeed. I picked the right one, I guess being the embodiment of death influences your chances.
“Yes, and I’m going to depose Discord as leader of insanity. I wonder whether he’s dead. He probably isn’t, probably he’s the scumbag who stole my fancy white suit which I wore to my final dinner. But it wasn’t final because I got dragged away to see my friends. Sorry about that, Death.” I kept on trotting in the barren wasteland, nothing but a blue map to light my path home. The dust spinning in the wind like little tornadoes. They fade away as soon as they are born. Mortal people are the same. Sad really, you get to know them. Then watch as their body rejects the blessing bestowed. You watch their legs become weak and their hair to go grey, you watch as their organs quit and they take their final breath. It’s comforting they’re cared for by a wonderful, nice, reaper. Not the fairy-tale of a horrible wraith.
Could you call me Mort? ‘Death’; it sounds rather imposing, and final. You certainly defy the ‘final’ part.
“What? You want me to call you Mort? As though saying it in Prench makes it sound better. Might as well be called Muerte but that used to be criminal. Now being called a madman usually is cause for a bullet through the eyes. As is pretty much anything because ponies are dicks nowadays.”
Hmm, there are some heroes, few and far between. But from what I’ve seen of you, you are not a guy who I’d want to be on the wrong side of. Your fate is undecided so you could change. I cannot see into your future like other ponies such as your fellows. I can only see a small bit into the past as well whereas I could find out who your buddies first amoeba is. Peculiar case you ‘mutants’. As though radiation prevents me from seeing.
“You think I’m evil? Well, certainly a soft-hearted-devil but not evil. I’m not a pony of the wastes. Condemned to live out the rest of their tiny lives. I could find some place. An ‘Eden’ of sorts. A place where there was no ‘kill or be killed’, no crazy murderous ponies and cybernetics. Just a colony of self-sufficient ponies like Clover.” Death was pretty blunt in how he put things. The cheery salesman voice which continued in my head carried him through, however. So I guess it was down to his charm. Trotting two-hundred miles sucks. It’ll take me at least three days to get back, probably four.
Well then, you’re a quick marcher. You’d need to trot at about nine kilometres an hour. You’d be dead on your hooves by the time you get back.
“Ghoul powers, we draw energy from the ambient rads in the atmosphere. It amounts to about three thousand calories in food chemical energy. I’d be fine, getting about a thousand more calories than your average pony does. That’s why you usually see ghouls sprint like Lightning Bolt. Also the limiter on your muscles before adrenaline is released, well, not being there.
“Enough of narcissism, I wonder if there’s any poorly armed raiders I can kill, nothing like mounting a skull on your armour to keep away the bad guys. Normal ponies would, however, see a giant hulking tank in pony form trotting somewhere. Self-preservation is a very strong thing. Maybe I could save a pony too, because the whole skull mounting sounds silly now. Saving ponies with a skull necklace isn’t the best image for a Steel Ranger. Speaking of killing, my sixth sense is having a case of the shakes. Not super wacky though, so no more hit squads or whatever. Probably a cute li’l radroach instead. I really want a radroach as a pet.”
I can tell, but as far as I can see on your map, there’s no raider camps you will pass. That isn’t cheating either; I just remember where everypony dies. But no-one’s died around here for a few years for some reason. Well, raiders don’t count. They get put straight on the naughty list and sent to their unbearable torture. Which is usually something to do with being civilised.
“Well, that would be fitting. Mad hatters the lot, try and gnaw your legs off when you have steel armour plating. But, that’s raiders, are there any camps on my route of other unscrupulous persons who then need to become earthworm feed?" I said. Three days of sightseeing some dust and rocks was not something that I wanted.
Well there is one camp of ponies that I know of. They aren't very large but they will be, interesting, to say the least.
"Could you please stop with the endless teasing? It's hard enough being bored to tears on my trek back. A straight answer would make a certain pony very happy. Yeah I should be grateful for your assistance in me avoiding meeting you in pony. But, I am an impatient stallion who gets nasty surprises a lot. I'd rather be prepared beforehand when I’m going to have a chance of meeting you.”
Ha, I have much more important things to do. They’re all boring too, and I know you hate boring, so do I. Now it’d be boring to tell you so they get annihilated without them knowing. But fine, I’ll give you a real hint this time. ‘Fall from grace.’
“Real hint my ass, stop making me think. I was in the military, I don’t think, I just do.” Images raced through my mind. Each one showing me why I was wrong, a pretty mare, a wounded soldier, Floss’ death.
You see don’t you, a soldier won’t feel, but you aren’t a soldier now. You feel the hurt of everything past, the weight of your sins. Did you know you have to carry the souls of those you have wronged? Think of how many you have simply mindlessly disposed of like the army colt you are. Then think of all the brothers in arms you never saved. You are split down the middle with a grey area in between. You are fractured, but one. You must bear the weight of your past wrongs.
“I’m a strong stallion. The weight of my sins could not compare to those committed by others. Those who disregarded lives and thought of numbers and stratagem are the ponies that I shall see crumpled beneath. The souls who I’ve saved, the ones who I am saving.” The cheery salesman voice had vanished, the ominous voice that was told in legend replaced it.
That’s just it, stratagem. How many ponies could you have saved if only you had intervened? How many more ponies would be in a stable, living out their happy lives? How many would become heroes of the wastes? How many ponies could have changed the world? You erased everything they built with the thought of ‘I’m just a lowly pony, no-one would listen to me.’ You say you are a monster then defend your actions. What are you inside? A hero, or another pony claimed by insanity? Even in the war you were a monster. I’ve met people who knew you. Apparently you were one of the people who would drag a. injured zebra over and publicly execute her in front of her kind. One who would use a dead trooper as a meat shield. I put that all behind me, but now it’s surging out like a broken dam. You stuck in my mind for a while. The zebras had a name for you. They called you ‘The Moon’s Child’. A bit offensive to dear Luna, but that’s their beliefs. Possibly the reason the war started too. But, those accounts I said, they were from zebras. Not your own soldiers. Your own soldiers thought you a stallion with only one thing in his mind, destruction. If the war hadn’t ended in the way it did you’d be in jail for war crimes. No matter how much good you wanted to be. You aren’t a nice stallion, but you were also regarded as a hero by some. Jumping in front of guns to save a zebra child, choking your own members to save a wounded zebra, dragging a pony back through no-stallion’s-land to medics, running into a burning building to carry out wounded. You are a nice stallion, but you were a ruthless one. This goes on and on, and on. Your sins only rivalled by your gifts. Those ponies you saved? A few of them had foals that got into the stables. Some of the pegasi you saved had children who were executed for rebellion against the Enclave. Nothing’s black and white but the absolutes, we live in the grey, stepping one way or the other. Good or evil, moral or immoral, saviour or killer? I have lived eons, I have seen many ponies wither and die. I have seen many prosper, forever remembered. I have seen some simply fade away, nopony caring. Ponies remembered you, they faded, withered and died in stables. Some became great ponies. Some became shrewd and twisted. Every pony you have wronged, every pony you have given hope. Your compassion only compared with your hate. In twenty years you were moulded by war. Then the wasteland changed you, only slightly. But still, and it made you a kinder person. What I see now is a stallion who just wants the world to be the way it used to be. No killing, everything sunshine and rainbows and all the other nice stuff. All in harmony. But your sins shall outweigh your achievements by the thousands. Ponies that sit and idly watch the world go by are the worst. Because they content themselves with the old lie of “I’m just one pony, what can I do?” One pony saved the world, one pony tried to destroy it. Battles were waged, one pony. One pony sacrificed themselves so others may live in harmony.
“Who? I’ve never heard of such a ‘great’ sacrifice. You’re spinning me along, shoving my past into my face! I, don’t, like it!” My voice defensive, angry like a cornered animal. What right does Death have to call me a murderer? Hardly a saint himself!
Starswirl, he gave his life to magic. Everypony knows he did it. Most think him a scholar of immense power. But he did it to protect ponies. Developing these mystical bubbles of impenetrable energy, called ‘shields.’ The Everfree forest used to roam wild throughout the land. The reservation it is now is hardly a shadow of its former self. This mystical thing called bending mana. Or as it is known as now, conjuration. The magic blades sliced through the wood like butter. The manticores couldn’t get through their newly found shields. Before it was only mountains that were safe. The brittle hoofholds unable to support the heavy creatures and the air too thin for their wings to lift. They were beaten back along with timberwolves, dragons, parasprites, and cockatrices. Beaten back to only to the very minimum to spare their lives. Starswirl died alone, unloved, uncredited. When he came to me he wasn’t bitter, accepting me as an old friend as his body burned in the fires of damnation for what he had done. Why do you think the princesses feared death? They carry the world upon their shoulders. Their atrocities rivalled by none. They screamed as I watched them burn. Starswirl laughed as he burned, a monster of circumstance. Kill or be killed.
“They deserve their agony. One such as Starswirl was protecting his people. They were protecting their kingdom. If I carry my sins to the maw of Tartarus, so be it. But I’ll not go down without a fight!” My defiance raged like a tsunami. Never ending, always burning. I defied the logic of numbers, I defied the corruption of the wasteland, I defied insanity, and I would defy Tartarus to my last breath. I was still angry, but not at the Reaper. I was angered by the princesses. While Luna tried to change the world. She failed, like she did when she became Nightmare Moon. She has to carry the weight of every soldier lost.
I think we’d better stop the ‘what are you inside’ and go on to greener pastures. A morose Death is a sad Equestria. Let’s talk about other stuff. Or I just sit and watch you battle your way back home.
“You said there was nothing down this route!” I accused him of lying. He was a crafty stallion.
Oi, I said there were no camps, I didn’t say anything about ‘environmental hazards.’ Actually, scrap the whole boring talking. This thing has a radio! I have a couple songs I could download onto this. Don’t ask how, magic. Ah, a new station? True Equestrian Radio? Hmm, my tunes can wait. This sounds cool.
A smooth mare’s voice boomed in my ears. It was akin to someone smashing thousands of Neighpal gongs right next to me. I recoiled as though the sound pushed me away. “Turn it off damnit!” I shouted through the din of the thorough ear fucking I was receiving.
Oops, sorry, I’ll turn it down. There, better?
“Yeah, thanks, now I’ll keep trotting and we both listen to this station. First I’ve had a constant radio in decades. Sounds good quality too.”
Yes, now hush. I think the song just finished.
How ya doin’ colts and fillies! This is True Equestrian Radio comin’ atcha live from a secure bunker under Neighvarro!
That was a hit from an up and coming singer, Dean Martino. His voice could do a duet with Sweetie Belle ah think.
We heard a couple reports of a kerfuffle an hour back in the mare masher’s military masonry about a ‘giant energy lance’ going straight through the mountain. What d’ya think the bastards are doin’? Ah think they’re makin’ some kinda doomsday spell; the balefire that rained upon us like Tartarus! Now, classified’s, let’s see, hmm? We got an expedition job, not to just anywhere, the Crystal Kingdoms! You guys are gonna have to wait a while. This apparently, is just to ‘Inform any adventurers and knees.’ Ok, mister oddity, moving on. Ahem, we got a couple stallions up at Blackreach wanting some mercs or hitponies for somethin’. Didn’t give me any info, but just the mention of hitponies is enough to know it’s something I don’t wanna know. In heavy showroom there’s a stallion who wants, radscorpion or manticore tails? The radscorpion is two-fifty caps and the manticore is a whopping eight-oh-oh! Oh, oh oh ho! That’s liquid gold right there! Two-fifty is nice but eight-hundred, even better. Now, I’ll be back on the hour, but until then, have some sweet remixed tunes by DSKOLTEK, with Escape featuring Bright Lights, a galloping melody for our wasteland couriers. Thank ya boys, and thank you Equestria! Goodbye everypony!
“Wow, under Neighvarro? I swear that place was locked tighter than a nun in a brothel. But radiomares can get anywhere and everywhere so; I’m not surprised. At least I’ll have something else than your constant jabbering on the way home.” I smirked, if it worked I would have known in just a moment. The blue text filled my comm bar yet again.
Hey! My jabbering is informative and lifesaving thank you very much! At least I don’t have to deal with you bringing me down.
“You sly bastard. Now, go talk to ‘Wade’ or whatever his name is. I need to get home. But, I also need to kill shit. Because no matter how much wasteland is between me and them. I’m still bringing something techie back, not just the ancient suit.” I kept trotting. A whole lot of time until I could see Clover and Frost again. I vowed that if Frost hurt Clover, I would perform zebrican voodoo on his stallionhood forever. It was at this point it suddenly rained heavily. With full body airtight armour it was like being back as a colt. Watching the rain streak down my window as I heard the soft patter of the drops. I always found it comforting, especially with my pa’s lighter in my hooves. I heard the slow roll of thunder as I trotted through the degrading ground. Slowly churning into mud. I needed to seek shelter soon. I checked my map and a kilometre off my left there was a small square that simply said; ‘SSH’. “Well, it has a location, so it should have a roof too.” I started trotting towards it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I approached the building and it looked to be made of concrete, there was a double door leading into the building. The rain obscured much of the complex. Leading me to believe it was a small factory or something similar. It was getting very hard to move at this point, the weight of the armour sucking me in like quicksand. I trudged through the mud and reached the stairs. It looked rather like a grey brick because of the rain. I opened the door and stepped inside. There was no light; at all. I activated my headlamps and the bright beams pierced through the darkness. Illuminating a dusty room. There was a large desk in front of me with a bell on the side. It appeared to be a hotel; there were little boxes, keycard sized. Some glinted with rusted metal still inside. I trotted over to the bell and hit it, expecting nothing. A small maintenance droid opened a door behind the desk and floated over to me. They look rather like a Sponyik with three arms. Its floating talisman sputtered out at times for a second before it restarted. It looked just as though it was bobbing heavier now and then. It picked up a key from a random pigeon hole and hoofed it to me.
“Here you go sir, your office the sixth door on the left after the third right.” The bot floated over the desk and led me through a door next to the desk. I counted one right, two, and then three as we turned. Six doors later and I was in a dingy office. The droid however, did not leave. A Scottish accent sounded through the droid. “Alright matey! So, you need to get yuir sorry arse over here! This place is a flippin’ poke! You won’t be able to get in yet though. Needs a three stallion activation hoofpress. This place used to hold the best weaponry in Equestria and I! Soapy McCloud! Was a proud Gun Galloper until these blasted droids murked mosta my team! So get me oot!” The sound cut to static and I heard the soft blow of a Dragon and the charge of a plasma weapon. As I extended my battlesaddle I heard hundreds of voices; all mechanic; all insane. The maintenance droid stood no chance, hardly armed. I needed to get out, I didn’t have enough ammo to destroy all of them. I turned the radio up. Apparently the song that was playing was called ‘That Same Old Song.’ The same old song, the same old situation. Few against many, retreat advised. I stuck some of the magic mines I found back in the alicorn base onto the walls before galloping for the exit. I followed the instructions backwards. Third right after leaving the door on the left. Where I ended up was not the exit. It was the point when I realised this wasn’t your average everyday deathtrap. That was; advanced deathtrap. I turned the radio up even more as the droids increased in number and volume. I heard the talisman destabilising magic crackle and a few muted clangs as some droids fell. The gangway I was galloping across, after opening the door I turned to, looked like a zebrican triple max prison! Cells filled with skeletons. Picks strewn about. All manner of horrible devices near the cells. The clang of my metal against the walkways sounded heavy like the beat of my heart. I turned the music back down and the intensity of the robot kill choir increased. Many a robotic taunt of ‘zebrican scum’ and patriotic lies. I heard the door be ripped off its hinges and plasma bolts filled the air around me. Blue blobs just inches from my armour. The catwalk was a long one, but I saw a turning point and an exit. I galloped harder, the catwalk started swaying due to the stress being put on it. It started swaying rapidly and I heard a tear in the metal. I galloped harder than I ever had in my life but it just wasn’t enough I felt the metal grate turn sideways and I grabbed onto a railing next to me. It was bending as I shimmied my way across. The air still filled with the blue bolts but my luck held as none of them hit me. It was then I realised they were stun bolts. I could take a hit from a plasma bolt but a stun bolt would lock my armour and kill me by fall of at least two-hundred metres. One of the stun bolts hit the railing next to me. It felt like a taser. But the armour held on and I got over to the turning point. It was ripped away from the railing. I needed to take a leap of faith. I became aware of all the bolts flinging around me. Some passing close enough to spark against the armour. I jumped. The free-fall terrified me and I forced my eyes to stay open. I hit the railing and bounced. My hoof found the metal grate just as I was about to fall to my death. My other forehoof joined the first and I pulled myself up. I ran to the door and saw a hoof scanner. I jammed my foreleg in. The bolts splashing against the protected grate was very noticeable now. I heard a ping and the door opened. The illusion of wood faded and revealed a metal slab on hinges. The thing looked four inches thick! I galloped inside as it closed behind me. My luck finally failing as I felt the armour start to move like glue. Errors filled the screen including one I never saw in the testing labs. I bit on the manual escape, which was basically the battlesaddle firing grip, and was thrown out of the armour. I lay there for a minute before getting up. The robot screams leaving slowly. The room around me was filled with strongboxes. Very, very strong boxes. However, my buttstamp wasn’t for nothing. Eventually they revealed their secrets to me after getting the bobby pins, and everything else, from the suit. The place I was in was the weapon confiscation room and armoury at the same time. A plethora of gleaming weapons on racks and less so in the boxes. I was being dropped into one gun store to the next.
“Thanks Santa, first you give me my supersuit, then you give me an armoury. What have I done to get on your good list?” I laughed as I said it. For one night I was free of any nightmarish creatures, any rabid drones. All sealed away by four inches of thick metal. Then I looked at the door, what I saw made my joy evacuate. There was no hoof scanner. The only way out was a door titled ‘Questioning.’ At this point I realised it was a prisoner of war labour camp. Which meant high security. Because it really was a triple max. “Fuck you Santa.” I was going to have to go through an interrogation room, for zebra’s. Most likely filled with deadly robots who will try to inflict pain rather than death. Forever trapping me in hell. I sighed before turning back to the strongboxes. There were a couple shivs after looking through them, just what I needed. I floated the sharpest one up and positioned it at my floating rib. “Fuck my life, really, completely fuck and shit on it.” I pushed the blade through and collapsed on the floor. I vaguely heard screaming then passing out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I and my colthood friends, Snowflake and Brick, were playing in the Fillydelphia national reserve. A giant expanse of meadows. We were playing tag in the fields. We would always try to lie down in the grass to avoid each other. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Snowflake always had an eye for detail but was never as fast as me, or as agile as Brick. However odd the name and ability combo may seem it was true. Brick was a name given by his father, a builder. Snowflake, her name given by her weather duty father. I was a cousin of the Apple Family and as such went over every year. I always wanted to bring my friends over so we could play in the fields. But Granny Smith said the reunion was a family only thing. But we were still playing tag. I was hiding in one of the trees. Snowflake copied me, a few rows behind me. I heard leaves crunch below me. If you were caught in the trees, you would have to come down and stand there for ten seconds while they ran away. He looked up but I was covered by branches. He stood there, staring at my covered form. As though there was something he couldn’t quite see. My heart was racing. Tag was the most adrenaline junkie thing you could do at age five. He turned away and his hoofsteps slowly faded away. Then we both heard a scream coming from Snowflakes tree. I heard a crunch and I slid down the tree as I raced over to her. Brick came shortly after. She was lying there, not moving with a slow pool under her head like a red halo. Brick knelt down to her and lay his head over her neck. His ears perked up as he said, “She’s not dead! B-b-b-but what are we going to do?” He was openly crying. I just felt numb.
“We’re going to carry her back. We’re going to get her to ma and pa. Then they’re going to wake her up and we’ll be okay,” I said emotionlessly. I lifted her up, partly with my magic, partly with my hooves, and hefted her onto my back. I stumbled around before regaining my balance and started galloping home. Brick was behind me, I could still hear his sobbing. I didn’t feel numb anymore, I needed to be strong for him though. I blinked back my tears and put an extra burst of speed. I felt damp on my side where her head lay. I saw ma and pa with Brick’s and Snowflake’s parents. They were on a picnic cloth eating sandwiches and laughing merrily. Then when they saw me, they screamed. Instantly Snowflake’s parents ran up to me and I pushed past them and lay her on the cloth. Her parents doubled back and collapsed at Snow’s hooves. I inherited my stoney personality from my dad and it showed. He lifted her up with his magic and ran back into town. I began to feel myself growing as though I was fully aged. Death appeared beside me.
“I’m so sorry, but you know what happens next. As do I. Your dad accepted it, she was unconscious the duration and had a dream of electric sheep flying across a field. She recently got the book and was going to read it tonight. Just like her last books, she’d pull the cover over her head and read it late into the night with a lamp beside her. Your dad had something for you. Your mother gave it to him the day before he succumbed. With his final motions he passed it onto you. I saw through his eyes that day. I made sure he’d see you as his last. You stood there, stony as you gripped the lighter.”
“Can’t I just have a different dream? Not this one, over and over. It still feels fresh as yesterday.” I stopped galloping behind my dad as I heard a timberwolf growl. He lay Snowflake down as he tried to defend against the timberwolf. I heard pained screams of both him and the beast. I sat on my rump and concentrated, a spell to blast away the monster. I felt my horn burning but I pushed through. The fireball released and struck the timberwolf. I watched it burn as my father lay there. Deep cuts and torn flesh. They said the timberwolves lived way back into the forest. They said they never came out this far. My mother galloped past me and I trotted to my father. I was back as a colt again. My tiny legs easily wrapped by his. My mother hoofed him something and he looked at it before giving it to me, a lighter. I still held his hoof as his eyes closed. They opened again for but a second. Focused on me, they closed one, final time. It was the first time I cried. I buried my head into his chest and wept. His coat staining with my tears as my mother rubbed my back. She herself was quietly sobbing.
“Daddy, no daddy, no please! Don’t go! I need you! We were gonna go flying kites tomorrow! Then the next, we were gonna go to the arcade with Brick, then after that! After that we’d go to the reunion and we’d play apple bobbing together! No! No no no!” I slammed my free hoof into his chest again and again. Waiting for an off and him to wake up. I hardly noticed Snowflake. Brick was next to me, his Dad with Snowflake. He hugged me and tore me away from my Dad, I tried to scramble back to him, but Brick was too strong. “Lemme go an’ see my pa!” I screamed.
“You can’t, he’s gone, to a better place. Fields and meadows forever! He’ll be with his grandparents! It’s okay, I know how it hurts. My ma died!” I saw the world start to fade away. A burial flashed in my mind. Then nothing but white. Death re-appeared. His coat and hat still present.
“You can look at it from another perspective. Sure, you lost your dad and your friend. But you got a new one and your old friend, he became your brother.” I glared at him, panting as though I ran a marathon. He never knew what it was like to lose family. It crushed you completely, the only friends he had were immortal, and so he couldn’t feel that pain either.
“I, I lost my pa! I lost my idol! I lost one of my best friends! You expect me to see from another perspective! No!”
“You don’t need to, but you and Brick. You became brothers because of it. Just remember that. You may have forgotten him entirely by the time the war came. What does that hold? Life is a windy road my friend. It has its ups, even in its downs. Now wake up dammit. You have an Alcatraz to break out of.” He disappeared as the white faded to black. Then to reality.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I looked down onto the floor. Mixed with my ichor was a wet floor. I’d been crying. Y’know when I said ghoulponies can’t sleep? That was a lie, we can, we just don’t want to. I pulled out what I needed from my chest. Buck, Ultradash, Flash, Hydra, an empty stimpack, and Wild Pegasus. This concoction was the only way for a ghoul to get well and truly smashed. It is still needed to be injected through the eye however. I closed the crate like strongbox I procured the shiv from and floated the Wild Pegasus to my mouth, taking a swig of the sweet liquid. After a quarter was downed I set it on the table. I dropped three pills of Buck then poured the Flash into the Hydra mixture. I heated both until the Hydra/Flash container started expanding then sprayed the Ultradash into the whisky and sealed the bottle until the fire from the Dash burnt the oxygen away then reheated the Hydra/Flash combo, when it started expanding again I pierced the can’s top and forced the compressed gas into the bottle before sealing it again. I gave it a good hard shake and set it on the table. I just needed the Hydra to condense. I rifled through some of the boxes. Only finding a Stealthbuck. If I got that Pip-Buck I’d be needing that. If I didn’t bring it, well, Merpony’s Law would come into effect. Then as I approached the gun rack I saw a smaller box. Smaller however, did not mean easier. Three pins broke before it opened. Inside was the best thing ever. A claidheamh mòr with smokey blue lapis inlay and a styled tartan grip. It was like Santa apologised and gave me a present again. I ran my magic along the blade. It was made of Centurite, the incredibly rare metal made by dead dragons as they fuse themselves with their treasure at death. The hardest metal in the entirety of the universe. They had a block of it in the Fillydelphia museum. The last remaining piece of the dragon Sir Canterlot slain to pave way to make Canterlot. As the mountain it resided on was the one Canterlot was built around. When he died it was renamed in honour of him.
The claymore was the most majestic thing I had ever seen. Centurite is a combo of a tint of the dragon’s scale colour and the ivory white of the metal. The dragon itself was most likely a grey as it appeared to be gleaming platinum. The box it was in wasn’t any pushover either. Royal Purple velvet with mahogany. The strongbox it was inside needed to be purged for its obstruction of beauty. To think you could have hidden this glory from the world for ages, maybe even forever. It also had a sheath. Brown faux leather with gold inlay. I lifted it out and saw it had a sling. I put it back in the box and shut the box. I levitated the strongbox, which I realised was a protective container as it was lined with cotton, onto the table next to the ammo racks. I searched the boxes for a strap and then the gun racks. The thing you looked for was always in the other place. The gun rack of plasma rifles all had straps on them. I glanced back over to the Wilder Pegasus and saw steam. It was going to be ready soon. I gave it another hard shake then set it back on the box. The plasma stun rifle slings were easily shorn off. Now I needed a way to tie the strap to the box. I heated the box then fused the strap to it. Then I realised I would be coming back here. So I retrieved the sheath and sword and levitated them around me. It felt weighty, but not pulling me around as I gave a few test gallops in the cramped room. Only twenty metres long and fifteen wide, thinned to about twelve with the blocks and locks. I stopped at the gun rack and noticed that there weren't any cases of armour. Not even a dirty prison rag. I was going to need that drink more than I thought. I looked over my shoulder and saw only wisps of steam, it was ready. The problem with the drink was that the mixture both dissipated over time and it was likely to explode the moment someone touched it. I pulled out a stun bolt rifle, two pistols, and a cool cowcolt like holster.
If I want peace, I should prepare for war
