Fallout Equestria: Deductions in New Pegas!

by Hugo Reed

Chapters

Chapter 1: The Pones Siblings
Chapter 2: Redbook
Chapter 3: Plans
Chapter 4: John Trotson
Chapter 5: Trottingham
Chapter 6: Rosemary
Chapter 7: Battle
Chapter 8: Judge, Jury and Executioner
Chapter 9: Lestride
Chapter 10: Knock Knock
Chapter 11: Job Offer
Chapter 12: Fool Me Once
Chapter 13: Neighton
Chapter 14: I'll Be Mother
Chapter 15: Times are Changeling!
Chapter 16: Embracing Reality
Chapter 17: Bounty
Chapter 18: Hit me!
Prologue

Chapter 1: The Pones Siblings

Fallout Equestria:
Deductions in New Pegas:

By: Hugo Reed

It’s the middle of night, why are you pacing like this?

Frankly, I don’t know how you can sleep at a time like this.

Three A.M?

Chapter 1: The Pones Siblings

I opened my eyes dismally as I heard a steady tapping of somepony’s hoof on the door to my room. Myclop, no doubt. The blasted mare just couldn’t let me rest. Of course, Myclop didn’t yet know how I was spending my nights. Never had I been so glad for her dedication to her work as the Overmare.

I threw my blanket up over my head angrily, trying to drown out the sound of the steady tap, tap, tap. No such luck. The thin and scratchy cloth that passed for sheets down here did nothing for the pounding sound. Why didn’t she just force the door? She had the authority after all, even if I had locked it with my own personal lock.

“Sherclop,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I need you, brother dear.”

“Fuck off!” I muttered, rolling over.

Now, Myclop did throw open the door, her horn bathed in its usual golden glow. I have wondered on more than one occasion if she personally changed the color just to be more flashy. That would be her style.

“Do you intend to become a corpse? All this laying around may well turn you into a ghoul.”

“Don’t joke,” I said, sourly.

Myclop should’ve known better than to mention ghouls around me… She did know better. There was no way she didn’t with how intelligent we both were. Myclop was pushing my buttons, trying to rope me into interacting with her. I didn’t want to play.

“I need you, brother dear.”

“And you sum up our entire relationship in a lone statement.”

“What has you being such a prissy little filly? Someone make fun of you? Did little Sherclop cry?”

I used my telekinesis to hurl my baseball at her, which was the only reason I’d kept it around, to be honest. She had been expecting me to do that, and caught it, placing it neatly on my desk… too neatly. I couldn’t see it, but I knew she would put it exactly in the center where she always did.

I grabbed it again and moved it, just an inch off to the side. Undeterred, Myclop tore the blanket off my body, sending an unpleasant rush of cool air over me.

“What?!” I snapped, angry with her.

I normally wouldn’t be so upset with an offered job, but it just had to be Myclop. She was just as smart as I was, though I would never admit it. There was nothing I did that she couldn’t do herself if she got herself out of our room once a year or so. But she wouldn’t, and I’d long since given up asking her about it.

There was always some excuse. There was too much work to do, or things were too tense, or there was an important class of new stable ponies who were graduating this year. It was always a lie, of course. Oh, no doubt Myclop had to do those things, but no task she’d ever had took her more than a few hours to work out. Similarly, no interrogation of mine ever took more than a day.

For those were our lots in life you see, determined by the marks on our flanks. Myclop had a glowing crown, which she gained the first time she’d been the leader of a class project. Ever since then it was clear that she, not I, would be in charge of the stable.

Not that I wanted the job. After all, if I had taken it, there would be the endless jokes about me being overmare, despite being a stallion. No, my duty was something… more me. My cutie mark was a magnifying glass… which of course meant Myclop had several jokes about my destiny being bad eyesight. I can say with certainty that I do not like my sister.

My destiny in life is to find answers. I don’t know exactly how far that goes, but anything I’ve wanted to know about, I can just find out… It’s hard to properly explain. I’m certainly no scholar. However, like my namesake, I am blessed with extreme intellect and perception. I see things faster and in greater detail than most anypony I’ve ever met… with the exceptions of father and Myclop.

So, when Myclop burst into my room demanding my help… there was little wonder as to what it would be about.

“Well let’s have it then,” I said, rolling onto the floor and getting to my hooves.

“I can clearly see you’ve been out all night again.”

“You’ve seen nothing,” I replied, noting the greasy condition of my sister’s mane. “You’ve been up all night. Even a filly on guard would’ve noticed I didn’t come home.”

“So where is it you’re going at night?”

“None of your business.”

“Sherclop, dear,” she said, voice heavy with more false affection. “I am the overmare. All that happens in this stable is my business.”

“Oh yes,” I responded, sarcastically. “All that happens within this stable and the land of Equestria is your business. Luna and Celestia continue to raise and lower the sun and moon outside only at your command, and with merely a word from you, the crystal empire would rise again and the war between ponies and zebras would be but a shadow of a memory.”

This was the best way to distract Myclop, by overplaying her hoof in the world. Of course, we realized that there was more than instant death in the world beyond stable 221. After all, every once in a while, we got somepony from the outside world who wanted to become part of our stable. Even Myclop and myself weren’t born in the stable. Outsiders could be let in (after being thoroughly decontaminated) without a problem… but nopony was allowed to leave… ever.

It made little sense to me. After all, ponies were clearly living in the outside world, but Myclop kept insisting she had very good reasons for keeping as many ponies as possible within the walls of the stable, whatever those reasons may just end up being.

Myclop hadn’t noticed my change in thought and was still addressing my latest hyperbole.

“I know I don’t command everypony, brother! But I do command the ponies in this stable! I am the overmare.”

“You are a whiny little mare who has never been told no by anypony in your life.”

“You tell me no all the time.”

“Because I am your humility. I am the part that reminds the overmare that she are not an all-powerful alicorn princess.”

“…You’ve been reading the history files again.”

“We both know I don’t have to be in front of a file to read it again.”

I had a photographic memory, which made it a piece of cake to remember pages and pages of information, by merely glancing at a book. I could literally recall anything I’d seen in my life, ever since I was a young colt. It helped immensely in getting answers too. So, when I’d come across the books that covered some of Equestria’s history before the war, Myclop hastily deleted them from the computer, only to find out I could remember them as often as I wished.

This was one of the few joys I had in our relationship, because Myclop, for all her brilliance, would have to pour over files for hours when I could remember them in mere seconds. It has always been a contest between her and I, which means that any trick we have in our arsenal, we use. Myclop still didn’t know I’d placed a bug on her terminal that was going to reset her files to the way they were 24 hours ago… let her see how far her job got her with that.

“So,” I said, drinking out of the sink near my bed. “You want to tell me about this job or not?”

“Of course,” said Myclop, returning to business. “Well it would seem that the earth pony, Redbook, got lost in some of the lower level tunnels, or so he says.”

“And you think he’s lying?”

“I’m not sure… but if he is…”

“He’ll discover whatever it is you’ve got hidden down there… What is it you’re hiding, sister dear?”

“Naughty, naughty Sherclop. You mustn’t peek before the present is ready. You and everypony will really like it.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course Myclop wouldn’t tell me. She thinks she’s infallible.

The pony fillyosopher, Socrates once taught that he was wise enough to know that he knew nothing. It was a lesson I tried to take to heart: Never assume you know everything about anything.

Myclop on the other hoof was so used to being the smartest pony around that she’d grown ignorant, and neglectful. This was the reason she already didn’t know what I was doing with my nights, and why she wasn’t telling father about my exploration. Whatever project Myclop was working on down in the lower levels, it was heavily protected. It was to the point that even I couldn’t hack the door through my terminal, and the lock was far beyond my skill to pick.

Not that it mattered in the end. I was just going to let Myclop think whatever she wanted about my attempts to get her to tell me what she was doing. I was just going to break in as soon as I was sure I could escape safely.

Oh sure, it was dangerous, but that was part of the fun for me. Living in a stable had been boring before I’d even gotten my cutie mark. I can’t speak for most of the other ponies in the stable… actually I probably could… but I was never meant to be stuck dealing with a meager task day in and day out.

So, deciding to get out of the room before Myclop wanted to continue prattling on, I shook myself to finish getting the sleep out of my eyes, double-checked that my Pipbuck was in good standing, and head out the door… almost.

In the way was one of the largest bastards I’ve come to know in my years underground.

“Hello father,” I said, evenly, trying not to give my sleepiness away.

“Sherclop, why are you still here? Surely Myclop has given you your orders for the day?”

“Just finished, actually,” said Myclop.

Myclop and I have always had an odd relationship. As much trouble as she gives me, and as often as I am irritated by her, I do not hate her. I am irritated by her, yes. I do not like her very often, but I certainly do not hate her. However, she does understand that father singles me out and often attacks me… physically as often as verbally. As such, she will occasionally interject when he begins rounding on me… if only it helped.

“Well then,” said the oversized stallion. “You really have no further reason to be here, do you? Did you thank your sister for the job she let you have?”

“No.”

“Well… what are you waiting for?”

“I will not thank her for letting me do her legwork.”

Father glared at me. I knew it wasn’t smart to challenge him, but I find it hard to keep my muzzle shut when he’s being a donkey’s ass… which is all the time.

“Thank your sister, Sherclop.”

“No.”

“Father,” interrupted Myclop. “He doesn’t have to. It’s what he’s meant for, not a gift.”

“Yes,” said father, glaring at me all the harder. “Some destiny… finding answers. What good’s that to anyone in a stable? Yet your sister still found use for you. Thank her.”

I considered lashing out… that’s where this was going before the lights were turned off for the night. However, now wasn’t the time. I was still groggy, and I couldn’t deal with being addled if he hit my head. My intellect was one of the few things I could still claim pride in, and I wasn’t willing to let him put that at risk.

“Thanks Myclop,” I said through gritted teeth, and hastily trotted out.

I was around the next hallway when I brought up my pipbuck, flipping through several tags until I came up on Redbooks tag. He was supposedly in the clinic…

That was odd. Not only did nopony ever receive serious injury in the stable, but healthbots were so quick to bandage any pony who so much as stood on a tack that for anyone to be still in the clinic was so rare I couldn’t recall ever actually seeing it before.

“What are you doing Redbook?” I wondered aloud.

Well, I certainly wasn’t going to find any answers sitting around on my haunches. So to the clinic it was. I passed several security ponies and lab techs on my way. Most of them immediately hushed their voices when I passed by, or looked away from me, determined not to make eye contact.

Honestly, this pleased me, because it was one of the few things I could say Myclop hadn’t done for me. Nopony in stable 221 liked to look me in face because I could so clearly read their eyes and body language that it was like I could read their minds. In fact, just such a rumor was spreading among some of the younger fillies and colts.

It was ludicrous, of course, but it was nice to have that aura of power around me. Everypony thought I knew their innermost thoughts, and that meant they never wanted to try and hide things from me for fear that I would reveal their secrets. I came around another corner and saw three members of the Glowing Dragon blocking my path to the clinic.

The Glowing Dragon was a gang of some dozen odd young stallions (and maybe a mare or two) who tried to “run” the stable. They didn’t usually cause too much trouble, so security wouldn’t get involved, but they had a particular dislike of the Pones family. Myclop enjoyed blocking their efforts and advances, which I wouldn’t mind except that Myclop never leaves the room and therefore, never has to deal with the side-effects.

No, instead that’s my job too. They turned as I came up behind them.

“Hello there boys!” I said cheerily, as if they had been waiting for me.

“Well, well, well,” said the lead stallion, a yellow buck with a dark brown mane. “If it isn’t Sherclop pones? Did you take a break from being spoon-fed your apple pie just to come and see us?”

“Aww…” I said, as if flattered. “I’m all embarrassed. You seem to know my name, and I haven’t cared enough to remember any of yours. I’m actually not here for you lot, but I can spare a few minutes.”

“Let’s teach him how we play down this far,” said a large member on the right.

They lunged at me. Now, normally being outnumbered three to one can be a difficult challenge for a pony, but I am no mere pony. I am Sherclop Pones, and there isn’t a being, pony or otherwise that can match me in hoof-to-hoof combat. Part of it is having an abusive asshole for a father, but I studied up on several of the attacks zebra assassins would use during the war and combined it with the standard style of unarmed combat ponies used to create a deadly style, and no mere stable gang was going to be able to match up with it, even if I didn’t use S.A.T.S.

The two side ponies flanked me and I rolled forward, punching the leader in the face before spinning and delivering a powerful double-hoof kick to the one on my left. I’d dazed the leader and my pipbuck informed me I had given the other a fractured skull. However, the Glowing Dragons weren’t known for their brains and the third came at me anyway.

I dodged his wild swings and hit him hard in the chest, just in time to see the leader come forward. His attacks were sloppy and uncoordinated, and mere moments later I had the entire trio laid out with broken bones and a concussion. I would no doubt get hell from father and Myclop about this, but I didn’t care. It felt good to win at something, even if it was a fight.

I finally trotted into the clinic and looked around for Redbook… but I couldn’t see the pony. I checked my pipbuck again, and sure enough his tag was still in the room. I walked into the bed where the signal was coming from and pulled back the curtain. There was no Redbook.

But there was his abandoned pipbuck lying on the pillow with a note shining on its screen.

Hello Sherclop.

Chapter 2: Redbook

Doing things didn’t work, not doing things didn’t work, and I couldn’t predict the future either, so I only had once choice. Monitor everything!

Chapter 2: Redbook

This was impossible.

Nopony… Nopony ever removed their pipbuck in stable 221. They were designed to be worn until the pony they belonged to died. Even those who had it removed for cleaning and repairs were made to wait in a locked room to prevent this exact situation.

I shook myself, and slowed my breathing. I needed to reassess the situation, and not make assumptions.

Ok, facts:
Myclop says that Redbook was poking around her secret project last night.
Redbooks tag is pointing to this pipbuck.
Redbook is no longer wearing his pipbuck.

Possibilities:
Redbook is dead…
Redbook somehow removed his pipbuck without maintenance watching him…
Another pony removed the pipbuck and has made an agreement with maintenance not to report it.

I stood, urging my brain to work faster.

Fact:
Redbook left a note on his pipbuck… No… Somepony left a note on this pipbuck, knowing that I would find it. Which means they will know I won’t leave it at this.

There was at least a high likelyhood of it having been Redbook who left the note, and I wasn’t going to know for sure until I found him. I put the abandoned pipbuck into my saddlebags and began moving to the stairwell to reach the lower levels of the stable: where Redbook had supposedly been poking around last night. If Myclop was right, and she usually was, than it was most likely the stallion was still around the lower levels somewhere.

I followed the stairs down to the maintenance level. Our group of the dozen or so technicians down this far gave me little more than a glance as I galloped past them. I would’ve loved to ask them about Redbook, but down here they treated the overmare, and consequently me, like a conspiracy theory.

I’d heard a lot of interesting accusations. The most entertaining one being that Myclop's secret room was home to a re-incarnated Princess Luna, here to right all that had gone wrong in Equestria. I had to let out a snort at that. If the princesses ever had been in charge of these lands, it was several hundred years ago, and they were long dead now. The sun and moon had gone wild, and given way to nature.

I got to the end of the hallway and peered over the lip of the walkway into the darkness. There were other catwalks down there, but no stairs went down that far, and the lights had long been turned off by Myclop to discourage ponies from going down there. Not that the darkness held any fear for me. I knew these catwalks so well by this point that I didn’t even need the light on my pipbuck, which was good because it would probably give me away.

I began to climb down the ladder that lead unto the lower catwalks and moved carefully along them. I didn’t know for sure what lay at the bottom of the darkness beneath me. I couldn’t see down that far and nothing that had ever fallen down there had come back up. Right as I was peering over the edge of this pit, alarm bells started to blare. I looked instinctively back at the maintenance ponies, and saw that one had just pulled the alarm bell and another was preparing the announcement speaker.

I could’ve shouted out and stopped them, but these ponies were up to something and clearly it had taken months of planning. I wanted to see what it was that was so important to them.

“Attention all security ponies,” came the voice on the loudspeaker. “Attention all security ponies. Redbook is opening the stable doors without authorized access. Capture him and bring him to the overmare for questioning immediately.”

I realized now exactly how Redbook had gotten his Pipbuck off. Furthermore, I knew that Redbook wasn’t trying to leave the stable. It would make no sense to warn security of the attempt, not to mention there was always security at the stable door anyway.

The only reason to warn all security to get to one specific point was to get them away from another spot… and I could think of only one place Redbook would want to get the security stallions away from… and it would be lying to say I didn’t have a shared interest in it as well. I hid, quiet as a mouse in the corner, waiting for the two security ponies to pass me. In the dark, I wrapped myself up in the black coat Myclop had made for me. She had a similar royal blue one made for her, and they contrasted each other nicely.

It seemed ironic to me that Myclop's gift to me would undo her secret in this stable. Security blazed past me heading for the stable door and I trotted down the path from the way they’d come, staying light on my hooves so as not to make too much noise by anypony that might still be down here.

It wasn’t long before I reached the door I need. Oh sure, most ponies would’ve gotten confused by the long paths and false turns, even with a pipbuck. I was in far better shape to tackle these problems than most ponies. Between my photographic memory and my knowledge of how Myclop would tackle such a secret, I could practically do this blindfolded.

I reached the large metal door that had so often denied me and was slightly takenaback to see it already sitting open, as if waiting for me.

I realized that Redbook must’ve either stolen a key or was a much better lockpick than I was. I peered into the room and was actually stunned. There was no floor whatsoever, just the long black drop that awaited the outside of the catwalks. However, something was wrong… if this room had nothing in it, why would Myclop make such a big deal out of hiding it?

This wasn’t even a matter of her teaching me a lesson. She’d paid guards to make sure both I and no other pony got anywhere near here. There had to be something at this specific part of whatever lay below here. There was only one way to find out, and so I leapt through the door way. To my astonishment, I didn’t fall as I normally would. Instead, magic caught me and slowly lowered me down. This wasn’t like a unicorn’s telekinesis either. This was automatic magic… it was created just for this.

When the floor below came into view, I was disappointed. Part of me… maybe two or three parts, had hoped it would be dirt or something equally interesting… but no… more metal.

“Dammit Myclop,” I muttered. “Couldn’t even give me that.”

As my hooves touched the metal flooring, I slipped, falling to my side. I rolled over and stood again, looking at what it was that tripped me. While I was an expert at feeling something and deducing what it was, this was new to me, so I put my pipbuck light on. I didn’t want to give myself away like this, but I couldn’t ignore anything.

A moment later, I retracted my curse on Myclop for the boring floor. What I couldn’t see before was that fresh blood caked the flooring, and spread along the path ahead. Judging from the concentration of blood, whatever had struck the victim had hit him only a little way ahead and fought with them as they head up the hallway.

Whoever had been attacked was likely still alive, judging from the amount and freshness of the blood, but they would need help if they would make it through night.

I prepped myself for a fight and moved along the path of blood, wondering if it had been Redblood that had been attacked and if so, by what? I didn’t have long to wait. I rounded a corner and found myself in a huge cavern, several times the size of our atrium. It was filled, every few feet by large, metal robots.

Out of instinct, I hit S.A.T.S. on my pipbuck to give me time to think. Each of these bots were built in perfect symmetry to each other. Not a one was unusual or unique. There were dozens upon dozens, easily going up into the hundreds. My eyes-forwards sparkle, which until now I’d ignored, was flashing a sea of red. They were hostile. I took a careful look at them again. I didn’t see any ranged weapons on them. In fact, they seemed to only have their own bodies for weapons, not that it made them less deadly.

I had no idea what Myclop was using these for, or to what end, but I wasn’t going to do nothing about this. They had attacked at least one pony and that made them a very real and viable threat. I knew I was going to have to battle these things as much as I was able.

I kicked off S.A.T.S. and galloped forward, waiting until I was closer to re-trigger the spell. They all turned to me instantly. Good. Whoever was here before me might be able to use my attack as a chance to get away.

“Hello there!” I shouted, planting a hoof-kick in the closest bot. “My name is Sherclop Pones! I am your nightmare!”

My cockiness was repaid by being slammed into the wall by the metal beast. I straightened and shook myself. I wasn’t badly hurt, but I was wishing I had even one combat spell. My whole sneaking skill was sort of going to waste right now. Luckily, I could see that I was able to hurt these things, as the one I’d kicked was sparking unhappily. I moved forward again, sliding under an outstretched metal limb.

I kicked out, catching it in the back. Then, I hit S.A.T.S. targeting three of the bots around me. I released the spell and my body moved of it’s own accord, smashing through metal and cords. A bot struck down at me and I leapt off to the side only to be hit in midair by another one. I used the momentum of the blow to roll up and onto my hooves again.

This wasn’t going well…

“Come and get me you bastards!” I yelled at them.

I could do much better if I had the chance to lead them where I wanted, instead of attack them when they were bunkered down. Amazingly, they listened, moving forward in very slow steps. Good, at least I could run faster than they could. Thank Myclop for small favors.

I galloped around the nearest group and attacked when I could, leaping back to avoid their counter-strikes. Never had I been so grateful for the training in zebra strikes. The bots weren’t ready for that kind of fighting and I was very, very good at it.

Wham!

I was beat down into the metal floor, and coughed up blood. I was one of the best, if not the best hoof-to-hoof combat specialist in stable 221, but that didn’t mean I was perfect, and there was an overwhelming number of these things. I leapt off the ground before I got pulverized, and heard a small voice calling my name.

“Sherclop!”

It was Redbook. I admitted that the moment I’d seen the bots, I’d forgotten about much else. I moved as fast as I could to him. He was sat up on a small chunk of the wall. Out of reach of most of the bots. I got to him easily enough and checked out his injuries. He had not been so lucky as I had.

Two broken ribs, a shattered left leg and a lot of internal bleeding. If I didn’t get him to a health bot soon, he’d die.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to shake my head of this horrible place.

Another bot came up to me and I punched it straight through it’s sleek visor.

“This is your sister’s plan!” shouted Redbook, firing a pistol he’d likely stolen. “She’s going to kill off all the ponies in the stable!”

I looked back at the bots. There was no way that was true… Was it? It was true that most of our stable was inexperienced in combat, but we had more a few wastelanders who were actually good fighters, and myself, not to mention the security… No, these bots wouldn’t be enough to kill off the entire stable.

Wham!

I hit the floor again, and felt a leg give out, crippled. Ok, so maybe the stable was a lot to take out, but Redbook and myself weren’t worth an entire stable of fighters. I heard Redbook grunt and something slid along the floor bumping against my hoof. I looked down and saw a .32 caliber revolver on the ground.

Where Redbook had gotten this, I couldn't be sure, but it was clearly old and in need or repairs. Not that I had the tools or time to repair it. I lifted the gun with my magic and activated S.A.T.S.

Blam! Blam!

Two shots landed the large bot on the ground in a heap. I hopped over to Redbook, careful not to use my bad hoof.

“Can you run?” I asked.

“Not really,” he said wincing. “They broke my rear hoof. I’ve been stuck up here for almost a half-hour.”

“Alright, climb on.”

I lay down in front of him and he awkwardly climbed onto my back. Let it be said that while I may be thin and tall, I am by no means a weak pony. I trotted back towards the magical lift, praying it would work in reverse. Several bots blocked my path, and I levitated the revolver again.

Blam! Blam Blam!

“One more shot,” I muttered to myself.

A bot slid in front of us, arm outstreatch.

I hit S.A.T.S. again and aimed right for the head.

Blam!

As the beast fell I reloaded the revolver, heading out of the large room.

“Here!” I said, handing Redbook the gun. “Hold them off us!”

I could see the lift in the distance and broke out in a very awkward gallop. Determined to get us both out of here alive. I could hear Redbook firing of the pistol rapidly, reloading, then firing again.

Then a bot landed in front of me, ready to strike. I couldn’t fight, not with Redbook on my back, and if I put him down, the bots behind us would catch up and kill both of us. I leapt and the skid along the ground, going right between the bot's legs. Sadly, I felt a large weight shift from my back and Redbook fell off.

“SHERCLOP!” he shouted, just as the bot stomped on his head.

Chapter 3: Plans

In fact, I think I’ll try the rest of my life without a sister!

Oh, I’m the one who’s ruining your life? Really? Have you looked around this place? I’m the one who would be better off…

Chapter 3: Plans

I watched, as if in slow motion, as the bot attacked Redbook, over and over. The young stallion’s head was split open, spilling brains and blood all over. I watch his face as it became blank and devoid of life. I watched his blood… there was so much blood. It seeped along the floor, pooling around what had once been a living and breathing pony.

I couldn’t pretend I had known Redbook all that well, He’d been a fine enough pony, and clever enough to break into this place, a task I hadn’t yet been able to do. However, nothing he’d done could deserve this. It was brutal, raw and utterly pointless. I didn’t know what Myclop was planning, but no plan could be worth what that pony had just suffered.

Rage filled me. Pure, unhindered rage. I forgot about my injury, and sprinted right into the mass of bots. My hooves were flashes of light as I punched and kicked them hard. Several fell and there was always one more to replace what I’d destroyed. That suited me just fine. Before ten seconds had passed, I’d recovered the revolver and I used it to cover my blindsides while I continued to attack in a fury.

Blam Blam!

“FUCK YOU!” I shouted, kicking another in the face. “Fuck you bastards! You can’t just take life from somepony like that.”

In the back of my mind, unhindered in my rage. I realized that these bots were not actually responsible for Redbook's death. Oh sure, they were covered in his blood, but they were Myclop's bots. This was Myclop's plan. It was Myclop who should pay.

Blam! Blam blam!

Not that I’d get the chance to make her pay at this rate. I knew I had to leave now, despite my rage and desire to dismantle these bots piece by piece. I turned and galloped to the lift, reloading the gun and firing behind me. I reached it, finally and stood there, hastily begging it to lift me up as I shot down more bots heading for me.

Click…

Click? No, click wasn’t good! I went to reload the gun again, and found that I had no more bullets. How in the hell could I be out of ammo? That wasn’t how this was supposed to go! I reached the lift! I was supposed to be able to get away! Damn Myclop for this!

As if reading my thoughts, the lift activated and I began to slowly fly through the air. After several moments, I realized something was wrong. This was not the system’s magic. The system didn’t feel like this when I was being lowered down. This was unicorn magic.

I looked up at the doorway and saw Myclop and several security ponies staring down at me. Myclop… that bitch.

“Oh Sherclop…” I heard her mutter softly. “What have you done?”

What had I done? What did I do?!

“YOU BITCH!” I screamed at her, feeling my hooves hit the ground again. “You utter bitch! What the hell were you doing down there? What the fuck was that?!”

“Sherclop? What’s got you so upset? We’ll get you fixed up, and then we can talk.”

“You killed him!” I shouted, striking out at my sister. “He’s dead because of you!”

Security ponies held me back.

“You mean Redbook?” she asked, then sighed. “That is unfortunate…”

“Unfortunate? You murdered a pony, Myclop! Does that mean anything to you?”

“He went where he should not have gone. Despite my telling you nopony should go there, he went and got himself killed, and messed up my project… Though, I suspect you had your own hoof in that.”

“Your project?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Myclop truly did not care that she’d just committed murder. The guards weren’t reacting much either, meaning they knew! This must be a nightmare.

“Put him out. He’ll keep raising a fuss…”

“FUCK YOU!”

I felt a needle enter my neck, and the world slowly blacked out around me.

When I awoke, my hooves were secured to a bed. At first, I was pleased to find all my injuries were fully healed. However, it was let down when I remembered what had happened to bring me here.

I changed my focus. I was in a medical bed… the clinic most likely. Sadly, this was not a new sight for me. Once a wastelander had managed to bring some mint-als in. He told me they would help me think faster and I agreed to trade him information about a mare he liked for the pills.

He hadn’t lied. When I took those little tablets, my mind cleared up and I was able to think at lightspeed. It was like how Myclop must feel all the time. Sadly, I had only the one tin, and after I’d emptied it trying to break into Myclop's room, I’d become addicted to them. I’d been forced to lie on this bed and go through complete withdrawal… It had not been pleasant.

This time, I woke up and felt that my leg had been healed, and they’d showered all of my and Redbook's blood off my coat. All gone… as if it never happened. Maybe that’s what Myclop intended. To wash me clean of this event. However, that wasn’t what I intended. I was done with her. Using my magic, I undid my binding and head for the door, only to come face-to-face with my sister.

She used her magic to slam me against a bed.

“No!” she said, angrily. “No words. Not from you.”

I glowered at her.

“You snuck into my room with Redbook,” she said. “And dismantled a good chunk of my bots, Sherclop.”

“Oh yes,” I said, pissed off. “How dare I damage your robot army?!”

“Did you happen to deduce exactly what those bots were for, brother dear?”

“Yes!” I shouted. “As they were stomping in Redbook’s head!”

“Calm yourself. Yes, I designed them to attack ponies. Here’s the thing, bother dear. This stable… this place… It’s not meant to house us forever. We both know in another few generations we’re going to be in danger of inbreeding. This is not a proper fix.”

I relaxed. Myclop still pissed me off, but she had me listening.

“You’re right so far,” I said.

“So, we have to get ponies ready to leave this place, and go out into the wasteland. But we both understand it’s an unforgiving place. So, I had to get them right to fight… to kill if need be.”

“And so you built a robot army?”

“I built something they could overcome. If the entire stable had fought they would’ve won and there wouldn’t be so much as an injury. We were supposed to go to the surface and build a city… a society we could all live and thrive in while growing larger… maybe enough to have a proper country someday… but you just went and fucked that up for me…”

I… I didn’t know… I couldn’t have known… Myclop's plan may have been monstrous but it was something that would prepare ponies to make a go of it in the wasteland… at least a little.

“You didn’t tell me…”

“And you can see why I didn’t? You destroyed almost all the bots! Do you know how long that took Sherclop? We couldn’t divert too much energy from the stable! It took a decade and a half of work, and you just destroyed it! I don’t know how I’m going to get them all out now… That was going to be our wake up call…”

“I didn’t know! You didn’t tell me anything!”

“Well listen to what I’m telling you now, because now I have no choice. I have to exercise a law you didn’t even know existed in this stable. Sherclop Pones, you are guilty of a plot that has endangered the continued existence of the ponies within stable 221. You are hereby exiled. I do not want to see you within ten miles of this stable after two hours…”

What? What? I was being exiled? Was that even possible?

“But I…”

“Here are your things,” she said, throwing my saddlebags at me. “Follow.”

I put on the saddlebags and my coat, before following Myclop dully. I couldn’t believe I was actually being exiled from stable 221. I wasn’t usually given to great shows of emotion, but this was still the only home I’d truly known. However, now I had little choice in the matter.

Still, it could’ve been worse. After all, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t toyed with the idea of leaving the stable on my own anyway… Not that this is how I wanted that to go. I idly checked my pipbuck on our walk through stable 221, checking what Myclop had gotten for me. To my embarrassment, I saw she’d found my second stash of mint-als. However, she never said anything about them, either because she was furious or had other things on her mind.

She’d even left me the .32 revolver… though no ammo for it. I would just have to pray I didn’t come up against anything I couldn’t tackle with my hooves. Before long I was in front of the large stable door, reading STABLE 221 in bright yellow letters. When it was created, such a thing may have looked inviting… now it looked horrifying. It was a testimony to life down here.

Myclop turned around, eying me carefully.

“Do you have anything to say before you leave this stable?” she asked professionally.

No, she wasn’t going to get that. She wasn’t going to be able to act as though it was just business between us, as though this wasn’t all her fault for keeping me in the dark. She didn’t get to be dignified during this.

“Fuck off, you bitch.”

With that, Myclop nodded to the two security ponies, and they slowly pressed the buttons to have to doors opened. I went through before the door was even fully done, just wanting out of that horrid place. I saw another door, though not nearly as extravagant at the end of the hallways and pushed it open with my magic.

I saw that I had come up into a sort of station. Sure enough I could make out what must’ve once been a ticket booth and resting areas for people who were waiting. Judging from the area, this was likely a train station, though it was unlikely many trains in Equestria still ran, even if they were in working order.

I checked around and found very little of use. Some bullets that my pipbuck helpfully informed me were 5mm rounds, though what guns used them I wasn’t sure of. For what I’d been expecting, the wasteland wasn’t much… Honestly it wasn’t all that different from being in the stable… Maybe a lot dirtier.

I opened the entrance doors and swore, backpedaling. Somepony had killed the ceiling out there! It was miles and miles away, and all puffy and wrong and shifty. I may be a genius but when your whole world gets turned upside-down logic isn’t what flies through your brain.

I hastily shut the door to the station, determined that what that was out there it wasn’t going to get in here. I waited for several long minutes… Then several more… After 15 minutes I cautiously opened the door. It was getting dark out there now, but I could still see the… I think the histories called it the sky. I did NOT like it one bit.

However, a small voice in the back of my mind reminded me that I was limited on how long I was permitted to hang at this station. Surely it was safe to walk around out there… after all hadn’t ponies before the war, and some after, be able to run around and do things out there safely? I walked out, keeping ready to gallop back into the station. However, for a long moment, nothing happened. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I allowed myself another ten minutes outside to slowly get acclimated to the sheer never-ending ceiling out here… and how little light there really was. It made the darkness in the stable seem petty, for even at night there were soft lights in most rooms. This was different. I called upon my magic and cast a night vision spell.

To my delight, the world lit up around me… albeit with an odd greenish hue. I’d never managed to cast that spell properly before. Maybe being out in the world had helped me break through some sort of mental barrier. I had no real time to find out.

I looked around the building for some way to use the tracks that still seemed intact. Maybe no train ran on them, but with any luck I could find a train car that I could move… or maybe…

I searched for the better part of an hour both in the station and a large storage shed out back. After a few moments, my pipbuck informed it had found a radio station and had lost the one from stable 221. This excited me momentarily. Not only did I no longer need to listen to Myclop’s voice, but there was possibly music out here I could listen to while I thought to myself. Music was magical for such things.

Hurriedly, I flipped on the radio station.

“One last thing, and this is to the stable dweller herself. Another message from my assistant… but don’t worry, children. I read it this time and it’s perfectly chaste…”

I shrugged, kicking open a footlocker. Apparently I wasn't the first pony to get kick out of their stable. That actually made me feel a little bit better. I didn’t know who this deep-voiced pony was, but he seemed to be enjoying himself greatly if the tone of this voice was any indication.

“She says: Wherever you are right now, I’m thinking of you. Look up at the darkness of the night sky, and know that I am looking up into the same darkness with you. We are never apart, no matter how far your drive to help us all takes you from this place, For you are here in my heart, always. I love you Littlepip.”

I grimaced. Love? Was that what ponies up here were really banging on about all the time? I hoped not. I may not have known many things in my life, but I come to accept romance as a feeling that was needed by ponies who had no purpose in their lives…

“Aw… now ain’t that just romantic? Don’t that just tug at your heartstrings?”

“Not really,” I mumbled to the radio.

“When did my assistant get so cheesy? Oh and there’s a P.S… Thirty-one. Huh? What’s thirty-one mean?”

I turned, confused by the odd message as some music finally came from the pipbuck speaker. Thirty-one…

It didn’t seem as if it could be the answer to a riddle or some sort of code, not given the rest of the message… Not to mention the tone of the writing was all wrong for that type of clue. More likely it was something that bore some sort of message specific to their relationship… and I didn’t know what it meant, which meant I needed to work it out.

It wasn’t likely to be a marker of any sort of time… That sounded like something they’d been keeping track of, but it was something this Littlepip had either forgotten or lost track of… What could one so easily lose track of?

A nasty idea crawled through my mind… If it was sexual orgasm, it would certainly explain the loss of concentration… but surely nopony could have that much sex…

“When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth…” I muttered, thinking of the phrase my namesake was credited with.

Stupid.

Stupid ponies and their orgasms and radio announcements. I turned my focus back to my scavenging.

I found loads of useful things in there. There were plenty of bullets for my revolver, an old zebra blade, several mint-als and health potions, and a pile of a couple hundred bottle caps. These, I stared at for a long time.

I let my mind figure out what was happening here. This had to be some sort of hoard a wasteland pony had gathered up. The ammo and health potions fit that idea… but why bottle caps? Was it a weird compulsion by this specific pony? Somehow that didn’t strike me as very likely.

More likely they were used as some sort of weapon or crafting tool. Whatever they were, I figured I’d better save them, and slid them into my saddlebags. My pipbuck helpfully told me I’d taken 210 caps.

Then I came across what I’d really wanted to find: a hoofcar. It was very, very old but still seemed to be in working condition, at least enough to get me out of this place. So I pushed it to the tracks with my telekinesis and placed it on the tracks. Hopping onto it, I started to pump the bar rhythmically up and down, and to my astonishment, it seemed to work perfectly fine.

Within moments, I was speeding away from stable 221, never to look back…

Notes: Level up!
Perk: Night Vision spell – You no longer need to use your pipbuck light to see into the dark corners of buildings or across the wastelands at night. Just a simple flick of your horn and you can see into even the darkest halls.

Chapter 4: John Trotson

Everypony has a special magical connection with her friends, maybe even before she’s met them.

Chapter 4: John Trotson

I moved along the tracks straight through the night. What warmth and heat I’d had from being in shelter soon gave way to freezing temperatures, and I wrapped my coat all the tighter around myself to try and retain what I could. I was amazed how cold it was out here… and I had thought the stable was cold…

Thinking of the stable, I felt glad that I wasn’t missing the ponies I’d left behind, for that would make this journey all the harder. Call it strange, but so far, I've found very little I could ever attach real sentiment to, be it a pony or an item. The closest I got was my attachment to the coat Myclop had given me, and that was more of a reminder not to make assumptions… about anything or anypony.

I did my best to ignore the freezing air and kept pumping my little hoofcart, checking the eyes-forward sparkle every few feet, just in case. However, I came across nothing whatsoever. Not even radiation blocked my path through the long forgotten lands. Eventually I could see that the sun was starting to come up again over the horizon… not that it wouldn’t be blocked by the clouds in a just a moment, but the idea that it might soon get warmer was very welcome.

It was by the light of the sunrise that I saw some that made my heart plummet in my chest. My journey was about to have a very sudden and unpleasant stop. A huge creature was blocking the tracks… and it had definitely seen me. I wasn’t sure exactly what to make of the creature. Its head and body were that of a lion, but it had the wings of a bat and tail of a scorpion.

I hit S.A.T.S. and my pipbuck helpfully labeled it as a manticore. I targeted it with four headshots and my pistol rang out.

Blam! Blam Blam! Blam!

To my dismay, the manticore’s health bar barely budged. I lamented my lack of knowledge with guns. It came towards me, tail poised to strike. I sneered at the creature and pulled out the zebra blade, biting down solidly on the handle. It stabbed out at me and I used my telekinesis, targeting the tail. Oh sure, to actually control the tail would’ve been beyond me, but simply nudging it so that the manticore missed and plunged the tail into the ground was a piece of cake.

Once I had it stunned, I swung at the midsections of it’s tail with all my might. It cut cleanly in half, sending the manticore screaming in pain.

Manticore tail crippled, said my pipbuck.

“Crippled is a very lose term,” I muttered, taking aim with the revolver again.

Blam! Blam!

This time, the manticore went down and stayed down. Just for good measure, I stomped on its neck. I didn’t need anything in the wasteland chasing me. As I got back on my little cart, my E.F.S. flashed up a large blotch of red on my left. I spun around revolver at the ready. I saw seven ponies, all dressed in blue battle barding, leering down at me.

“Well, well, well,” said the lead pony, aiming a rifle at me with an odd saddle. “Lookie here… I think we got us a stable pony.”

“Yeah,” said another. “You come all the way here from ponyville?”

It occurred to me that I didn’t know where I’d actually come from. I checked my pipbuck and saw it had marked a city as Trotsdale. The name meant nothing to me, and a quick scan through my brain-terminal confirmed that I hadn’t read it anywhere else.

“Nope,” I said simply, feeling very stupid.

“Here’s the deal little pony,” said a mare with them. “You’re in Chrysalis turf now, so cough up your caps and coin and we’ll let you live.”

I thanked my thought to save the caps I’d found earlier. Apparently, they were used as some form of currency or some other trade value. However, I didn’t trust these bullies as far as I could throw them, so I’d be on guard… just in case.

I carefully emptied the caps I had onto the ground, and backed away, holding the revolver cocked and ready. The lead pony quickly moved down and swooped up my caps, placing them in his saddlebags.

“Thank ya kindly,” he said, smirking. “Now get out of here, you idiot.”

That was a problem. See, in general, I have always believed the brain to work like a terminal. Some come with lots of space, some with lots of ram, and some with the bare minimum. My terminal had loads of space and was fast, but I couldn’t bog it down with useless information, or it would run too slow and I couldn’t think quickly.

In this way, I can always control my thoughts and keep them cold and logical when I need to. I have dubbed this style of thought my mind-terminal or terminal theory. However, I have a huge problem in this theory, and it’s this: In moments of stress, or when someone insults my intellect, I can no longer reason and do what makes sense. I lose control and snap.

So, my terminal went blank as this pony insulted me and I didn’t do what a reasonable pony would’ve done. I didn’t shut my mouth and walk away with my life. I looked right at him and raised the revolver.

Blam Blam!

He was dead before he hit the ground, the bullets going right through his skull.

“Fuck you!” I shouted, shooting him again. “You fucking moron!”

The others opened fire and I weaved through their shots, managing to get cover behind a rock without receiving injury. I reloaded the gun, triggered S.A.T.S. and emptied my clip into the sniper mare’s torso.

“You stupid bitch!” I yelled out. “Never stay still when you have no cover and the enemy knows where you are!”

Two more of them flanked me to the left. I swift kicked one in the face and shot the other in either of his lead hooves. The one I kicked got back up and shot me in my lead leg. Pain flooded through me as I gunned him down. Greedily drinking a health potion I did the math. There were still three left and S.A.T.S. wasn’t done charging yet. Right as I thought this, two more ponies came around the other side of my rock.

I was dead. There was no way around it. My revolver was empty, I had no S.A.T.S. and even if I could kick one to death the other would shoot me before I could stop him. I closed my eyes, cursing my poor judgement on my short trip through the wasteland.

Boom! Boom Boom!

I heard the rifle go off, but didn’t feel any pain. I waited to feel the blood spread across my coat and to go cold as I died, but I didn’t. Slowly, I opened my eyes. The two gang ponies in front of me were dead, several bullets torn through them. As I stared, dumbfounded, a shadow passed over me.

I turned to look at this new threat, and saw a small charcoal pegasus pony land in front of me. He had an orange mane with a burnt orange streak in it matching his tail, and his hooves were white. On his back he bore a saddle similar to the sniper ponies, holding twin rifles.

As he got closer, I could see that his wings weren’t like the wings I’d seen pegasus ponies having in my history books. Most of them had soft wings, curved smoothly. These were different. They weren’t massive but they were… sharper looking. In fact, the only time I’d seen wings like them was in Princess Celestia’s pictures.

He landed in front of me, smiling widely and taking off a set of aviator sunglasses.

“Hello there!” he said cheerily. “Get down!”

I did as he said without argument and he fired his rifles twice, killing the last of the gang ponies.

“Figure that’s got to be the last of them. You alright?”

I nodded, not mentioning the leg that had been shot.

“Who… who are you?” I finally asked.

The pegasus smiled, and stood with his chest puffed out regally.

“Captain John Trotson of the Pegasus Enclave, at your service! Or former captain I should say. Can’t say I’ve seen a stable pony before. I thought they were further east. Still, there’s a first time for everything.”

I hit S.A.T.S. to examine him. He clearly had professional training with guns and flying, so it likely came from some type of military training. I could see the strength and sturdiness that came with such ponies. He was very genuinely smiling at me, which meant he was either insane or happy to meet a complete stranger… or happy to kill the gang ponies.

Aside from that, I could see that he had very fine hooves, and used them often for repair work and medicine. So, some type of army medic… if armies still existed. His cutie mark was very odd. It looked as if someone had branded a cloud and lightning blot onto his flank. It looked just like the mark that the Ministry of Awesome had on her flank.

“So, the pegasus enclave is some sort of army then?” I asked. “I take you were dishonorably discharged?”

“How do you figure?” he asked, seeming quite pleased with my deductions.

“Well, you’re clearly a solider pony, which is apparent from your aim and the way you hold yourself. Your cutie mark isn’t natural and, as you so clearly pointed out, you are a former captain.”

“True. Well you’re right. Pegasus enclave is an old military power in the clouds that’s determined to let you ponies down here sort everything out before they do anything. So, when I decided to come and help you all out, they gave me this cute little bite mark.”

I could tell from his voice that this was normally a much bigger deal among the pegasus ponies. Either he’d accepted what had happened ages ago, or he was just completely insane. The latter was more likely considering how pleased he was to meet a complete stranger.

“I suppose I owe you a thank you, so thanks.”

“No need. I don’t like bullies, and those Chrysalis Legionaries are some of the worst I’ve met. They were one of the reasons I decided to come down… Once I knew what was going on anyway.”

“I am from out east,” I said. “So, I am a bit ignorant… but who are these Chrysalis Legionaries?”

“They’re a large band of slaver ponies. There’s rumors that they were once just a small tribe surrounded by other small tribes just like it, but they murdered and captured the others until they were large enough to become a true power.”

“I see,” I said, disturbed by this. “So they own this land, huh? How can you resist them without being hunted down?”

“Oh, no they don’t own everything, though they’d like to. The NCE holds them off pretty well. Can’t say I like those ponies enough to actually join them, but they’re a hell of a lot better than the Legion.”

“NCE?”

“Curious type, aren’t you? Yeah, the NCE stands for the New Crystal Empire. They’re the closest thing to an army you guys have down here. Like I say, they’re alright as far as military powers go. They want to return an order and system to the wasteland, but you can’t create a power that large without corruption seeping in. So, there’s too much back room dealing for my taste. I prefer to deal out a bit of old-fashioned justice with the twins here.”

He indicated the rifles in his odd saddle.

“The twins?”

“Yep!” he said proudly. “Cloudchaser and Flitter! My pride and joy, aside from these bad boys, of course.”

Now, he flapped his wings proudly. The two names he’d mentioned rang within my head. If memory served, and it usually did, Cloudchaser and Flitter were two of the ponies in Rainbow Dash’s elite shadow striker squad.

“Weren’t they part of the Ministry of Awesome?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m surprised you know that,” said John, seeming pleased with my knowledge. “My old flight trainer said his grandmother had flown with them in ponyville. They were a wonderful team, and eventually flew around with Rainbow Dash during the war!”

He was getting positively giddy when he mentioned Rainbow Dash.

“So I guess that’s how you got that mark then?”

“In a way. Any pony who comes down to the surface against orders gets called a Dashite and then branded with this thing, so we are identified. Not that I mind it much. After all, being branded after the best flier who ever lived isn’t so bad!”

“You admire her then?”

“Oh yeah! My trainer used to tell me stories about the sonic rainboom. I’ve been trying to pull it off ever since, but it’s a lot harder than it sounds.”

“Sonic rainboom?”

That was something that hadn’t been in my books. They had specifically left a lot of the actual war techniques out of the pegasus side of the war. It wasn't like many of the ponies in Stable 221 would've been able to understand them.

“It’s when you get flying so fast you cause a sonic boom and a rainbow all at once. Shatters the light spectrum or something.”

“That… That’s not real.”

“Is so!” he insisted.

I rolled my eyes. Granted, ponies had lost a lot of knowledge due to the megaspells, but I was pretty sure that light didn’t work like that.

“Well, I suppose these are rightfully yours,” I said popping the caps down in front of him, but the pegasus shook his head.

“Nope, I’d prefer to walk with you to Trottingham. It’s one of the friendliest small towns you’ll find for a few miles, so I figure you can help be an extra set of eyes until we get there. That’s worth more than a few caps.”

It dawned on me that he was doing me another favor, and that surprised me. This was a unique pony who was willing just to help others and ask nothing real in return.

“Sure,” I said. “I’d be delighted to accompany you.”

“Great, but first things first. Let me take a look at your leg, or you’ll get it infected.”

Chapter 5: Trottingham

Since the dawn of recorded time, in one town of amazing amazingness, three types of ponies co-exist.

Chapter 5: Trottingham

I found, despite my usual destain for others, that I was rather enjoying John’s company as he walked me to Trottingham. He was a strong solider, but loved to laugh and joke. Aside from that, he was no slouch with his twin rifles. He could beam a radroach that I couldn’t have hit with S.A.T.S. He at least knew his way around guns more than I did.

It didn’t seem to take long before we reached Trottingham. My leg was feeling back to 100%, and I felt confident in my assessment of John as an army medic. When we reached Trottingham, I half expected him to leave or demand my goods anyway, but he didn’t. He merely turned to me, eyeing me for a long moment.

“You know,” he said. “I don’t think it’s right to turn you lose until you can at least shoot a barn door without missing.”

“But…”

I couldn’t say anything else, because he was right… I couldn’t shoot. He took me out behind a saloon and indicated several bottles. I took notice of the fact they were labeled as sunset sarsaparilla, and cocked my head, curious.

“You want me to drink these?”

John actually fell over laughing.

“No! I want you to shoot them! Here, take this. I found it in the old school house on the hill there. It’s old, but should fire true enough for you.”

I levitated the rifle in front of me and took aim at the first bottle. I missed, badly.

“Too high,” John said softly. “Try holding your breath right before you fire, keeps your eyesight steady.”

I took aim again, cocking the rifle. I picked my target and held my breath, firing. The bottle shattered into a thousand pieces.

“There it is!” said John, happily. “Now, take down two more, fast as you can.”

Pop! Pop!

Two more bottles shattered due to the little rifle.

“Cool!” I said, genuinely happy with my progress.

“Good job!” John said, genuinely. “You might be a decent shot if you keep practicing. Tell you what, Sherclop. I could actually use a good hand clearing some of the damn radgators off our water source here.”

“Radgators?”

“Yeah the radiation turned them all into right pains. You up for a it?”

I owed John this much, and even if I didn’t, I was interested in working with this particular pony. John led me out of Trottingham to a small outcropping that had a large water well and troth ready for ponies to come and drink. I was surprised when my pipbuck boasted no radiation in the water.

“How do you have pure water?” I asked. “I always learned that natural sources of water were ruined by the megaspells.”

“You’d be right,” said John. “We found one pony who was out of her mind smart, almost like you. She said she could find an abandoned stable and get one of those water talismans for us. It would give us clean water for however long we should need it. She didn’t even want to be paid for it or anything. I thought it was a bit odd, but I wasn’t going to complain.”

“Some stables are abandoned?”

“Lots of them, from what I hear. You’re the first proper stable pony I’ve met, mind. Was yours still working?”

“Like a charm,” I said. “Well… the stable part anyway. We were going to have a problem with the gene pool in another generation… two at the most.”

“Is that why you left?”

“…Not really… My sister… It’s a bit complicated.”

It wasn’t. I wasn’t sure I trusted John yet,. and I didn’t want to just go around blabbing my story at the time. I was still too new to the wasteland to be able to defend myself properly. I could tell that John wanted to press me about Myclop anyway, but he decided against it.

“Well, here you go. Let’s see what you got against a living target!”

John took to the air, completely silent. I crotched down low and snuck up to the well until my E.F.S. lit up. I looked down and saw two large radgators, and they hadn’t noticed me yet. I took aim at the closest one, and held my breath.

Pop pop!

I hit it dead on the head, killing it. Unable to help myself I whooped happily, alerting the other one as to my exact location. It came moving right for me, as if some terrifying huge snake.

I aimed again.

Pop!

Miss.

Pop!

Hit, right in the snout, but it didn’t care enough to stop charging. Desperate not to be munched on, I hit S.A.T.S. and targeted the thing’s head twice. At this distance it was almost impossible to miss.

Pop! Pop!

The radgator lay dead at my feet.

John landed next to me, smiling softly.

“Congratulations, you just laid your first ambush! Next time, I suggest not celebrating until they're all dead though.”

Despite myself, I laughed. This small charcoal pegasus was a very odd type, but I liked him. He was good, and had saved my life.

“That all?”

“No way, we got two more to clear away here. You up for it?”

I nodded, reloading the rifle. John pointed out the next well to me and flew off to clear the third on his own. Heading to the marker my pipbuck had so helpfully placed, I saw three more of the little bastards cluttered around the watering hole.

I crotched down low and took aim, holding my breath again.

Pop!

Headshot, instant kill. I controlled my urge to cheer, and took aim again.

Pop! Pop!

The second one went down. The last descended on me as I was catching my breath again. It swung its massive tail at me, knocking the rifle from my telekinetic grip. Luckily, I still had my hooves, and I beat its face in with my arms.

Stretching, I took a sip of the water in the troth and frowned as more little red blips showed on my E.F.S. I looked over the lip of a small hill and saw and young mare being cornered by three radgators. I acted on instinct, pulling out my zebra blade I slide down the hill, yelling to get their attention.

And I got it.

All three turned to me, and I slit one clean in half as I reached them. I hit S.A.T.S. and carved the next one open, spraying more blood over myself. The last hit me in the face, but only gave me small scratches. I stabbed it clean through, and I heard the spine snap as I grinned to myself.

The mare I had rescued stood there, breathing hard and eyeing me warily. It occurred to me that this was not very different from when I’d met John, and I looked at her, trying to assess if she’d been damaged.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

“No, thanks to you!” she said brightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said dryly. “You’d best get back into Trottingham and make sure you don’t have any lasting damage.”

She nodded and opened her saddlebags, placing a canteen in front of me.

“I was coming up here to fill this, but I think you should have it.”

I opened my muzzle to protest that I was fine and didn’t need the drink, but she turned and head back towards the town without a word. As I head back up the hill, reclaiming my rifle, John slowly landed in front of me. It infuriated me how little noise his wings made. I couldn’t hear them at all, and he could move so quickly with them.

“Well that was pretty good, even got a bit exciting at the end there!”

I looked at him confused.

“That pony was almost hurt though,” I said.

“Who? Wither-run? Oh, trust me, she’s a lot tougher than she looks, and I’m no slop with my medicine. She wasn’t in much danger.”

I nodded, I kept forgetting that John knew the wasteland and its ponies far better than I did. John walked me back to Trottingham. On the way back I explained Terminal theory to him and he took a vested interest in it. I was surprised to find he understood and followed what I was saying, instead of just giving me a blank stare as I usually got in Stable 221.

After we reached the town, John showed me into a little bar happily labeled Three-Legged Horse. I sat in stunned silence at the sign for a very long moment.

“Don’t worry,” said John. “There’s not actually a three-legged horse inside.”

I listened to him and entered, despite my reservations. Inside was a dusty old bar, with a few ponies scattered throughout and one very motherly pony behind the bar. She was starting to show the early signs of aging, but had plenty of pluck about her, and it was easy to see just from her face that she wasn’t going to keel over anytime soon from sickness.

She smiled happily at John and I as we walked in.

“Hello there John!” she said beaming. “Who’s this young unicorn friend of yours?”

“Sherclop Pones,” I said, eyeing her wearily.

“What, like that stallion in the kid’s stories?”

I suppressed the urge to snare. I hate being compared to my namesake, no matter how much we may seem alike.

“Yes,” I hissed. “Like the stallion in the storybooks.”

“Oh dear,” she said, laughing lightly. “Don’t be angry with me. It’s a habit of mine, I’m afraid. Can’t help but say what pops into my head.”

“Sherclop,” said John, smiling. “This is one of the finest mares in all of the crystal wastelands, Miss Butter Cake! She’s a descendant of some of the finest bakers that ever did live in Equestria… before the war anyhow.”

“Oh you,” she said, battering an eye at John.

I was impressed with his use of flattery. John was a sweet-talker, and no mistake about it. I was quite sure if she were just a year or two younger, she may have full-on made a pass at him… might have already now that I thought about it.

“Get my friend here whatever he wants, my treat,” said John, smiling at me.

“Sure thing. I’ll even give you boys a discount, seeing all John’s done for us over the years and how you boys rescued Wither-run earlier.”

I saw that the menu boasted ice-cold Sparkle-Cola and ordered one. John got one for himself and together we drank, enjoying the carroty flavor of the drinks. Butter Cake walked over to a radio that was hissing static, and pounded on the top of it a couple times, trying to get it to behave properly.

I looked at it curiously. Sure I wasn’t an expert, but I had done several small repairs on doors in Stable 221, so how hard could a radio be? I walked forward, and popped off the front of the radio.

“Let me,” I said, peeking inside.

It honestly wasn’t so complicated and after about 30 seconds I had it playing out a delightful little tune.

“Well I’ll say,” said Butter Cake. “I may not be able to get rid of you boys if you keep being so helpful ‘round here.”

I found myself smiling at her words. I wasn’t used to being received so warmly. In the stable I was hated because of Myclop, but here… These ponies liked me… at least a little. I went back to my drink and John gave my a sly wink, and I had the uncomfortable feeling he knew where my thoughts lay.

For several hours, we sat talking, and I told him things I wouldn’t have normally told anypony. I shared stories of being in the stable, and fights with my father. John grew furious when I mentioned that I had to fight him.

“That’s a shit thing to do to your kid,” he muttered.

“Well it eventually got a little better after he… After a bit.”

“After he?” John asked pointedly.

I didn’t like this part. Shamed as I was by what had happened to my mother, Myclop and I didn’t talk about about what father had done to me; but John was curious and was a good friend to me. He deserved his answer.

“Father beat me pretty bad one night in the stable… and I suffered a bit of brain damage.”

“What!?” John shouted banging the bar angrily.

“It’s fine,” I said. “Seriously. I recovered well enough… considering. It’s just that I’ve always been just a little bit slower than Myclop because of it.”

“Wait… so as smart as you are… you’re… injured?”

I smiled at his desire to skirt around my damage.

“Only mildly,” I said. “I’m still within the top .1% percentile in the stable.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” John hissed. “Sorry for saying, Sherclop, but your father’s a right bastard, and I’d have half a mind to beat him myself.”

“I don’t mind your saying. So what about you?”

John told me stories about his days in the Enclave. About how he’d met his teacher in the army and had learned all there was to learn from him. By the time John was doing his first tour, he’d already become a champion flier. No one he’d ever met in the enclave was faster.

“But then they had me do a run down to the surface,” he said. “And I saw some bad things down here, especially from the Legionnaires. I couldn’t stand it. So, my first night on the surface, I stole away from my company and killed a band of them. When my unit saw what I’d done, they brought me back as a prisoner, giving me my mark. After that, I decided I might as well do what I could to help your lot out.”

“That’s a pretty monstrous thing to do your own,” I said, pointing at the brand.

John laughed, and with a genuine chuckle.

“At first, I would’ve agreed with you, but honestly, I like it. I reminds me of what I fight for and keeps me on the right path, instead of having me torn between the enclave and the surface ponies. I prefer this to the enclave any day. At least here what I’m doing matters. I’m helping ponies, you know?”

“Of course,” I said, taking another sip.

Several hours we spent, just talking. Until the door to the bar was kicked open and a pony wearing make-shift battle barding strode in, and pointed angrily at Butter Cake.

“You!” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

Chapter 6: Rosemary

When she needs help, she finds it hard to accept it. So while friendship is about giving of ourselves to friends, it's also about accepting what our friends have to offer.

Chapter 6: Rosemary

John and I were on our hooves instantly, rifles at the ready.

“And exactly who the hell are you?” growled John.

I hit S.A.T.S. to examine him. I saw he wore a ragged blue uniform that had the letters NCECF on it. NCE obviously stood for New Crystal Empire, and I figured CF probably stood for correctional facility. He wore strong barding I was associating with military, but he was clearly not a true member of the NCE. He had several long packs of dynamite strewn around him, which I figured he must’ve gotten from his prison.

That would fit if the NCECF used their prisons for demolition clearing, though admittedly that was a very stupid thing to do… not that I knew the NCE wasn’t stupid.

“He’s a prisoner,” I said. “Ex-prisoner I suppose. He broke out of the NCE’s prison no longer than a week ago.”

That part was partly a guess, but he hadn’t had long to look for barding or proper clothes so he hadn’t been on the outside long.

“Who the hell are you?” said the prisoner pony, turning to me.

“Sherclop Pones, and the most brilliant pony you’re ever likely to meet. Now, I suggest you get the hell out of here before my associate and I repaint this bar’s door with your blood!”

“Look lady!” he said, calling over his shoulder to Butter Cake as he walked out. “Rosemary comes to us by the end of the night or we raid your useless town for all it’s worth!”

We kicked the door shut behind the new pony as he went out.

“Butter Cake,” I said turning. “Do you know who Rosemary is?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “She’s a pony who came into town maybe a few days ago, and said she needed some place to crash. Sure, she seemed worried, but I never thought anyone would come looking for her.”

“Where is she now?” asked John.

“In that old sofa shop up the hill.”

“Let’s go!” I said, and John nodded, flying alongside me as I galloped towards the shop she’d indicated. We reached it in less than a minute and I pushed the door open hurriedly. I was greeted by the barrel of a revolver, which spoke swiftly and softly.

“Not another step, or I’ll shoot you.

“If you do,” I growled. “You’d better not miss.”

The mare holding the gun seemed abashed and put it away, leaning back against one of the sofas in the small shop.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so on edge recently. Why are you here?”

I examined this mare. She was a light purple earth pony with blue eyes, which bore the lines one got from lack of sleep. She had her revolver pistol and bore the look of a courier pony. It was hard to tell, considering I didn’t yet know how all the gangs worked, but I bet she was a messenger or delivery pony for one of the smaller gangs.

“I’m Sherclop Pones,” I said. “And this is John Trotson. We heard you’re having some trouble with someone who is looking for you.”

“Well… yeah, but I’m going to just give myself up. I’m not worth this whole town getting blown to hell.”

“We’re here to help you,” said John, smiling kindly.

“R-really? I mean, with the three of us… we’ll still need more. If you can get the rest of the town to help we can maybe get somewhere.”

We nodded and I turned to John.

“Well who can I ask?” I asked.

“What’s this ‘I’ thing? I’m with you too.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“Well I am. No way I’d miss this party. Besides, if we don’t fight, those bastards will just be back with more firepower and grind us dry. We should definitely talk to Butter Cake, seeing as most of the ponies in town love her. I suppose the Doc and Cherry Pie from the general store would be a good fit. I hear he just got a new shipment of armor, so maybe we can get him to give it up. There’s also old man Brawny Steed, and he’s sitting on a huge pile of dynamite if you can get him away from it.”

“How would I do that?”

“Convince him you know all about it.”

That was a small problem. I knew very little about dynamite. However… I didn’t really need to know much… I just needed Brawny Steed to think I did, and I just so happened to have a small pile of Mint-als in my saddlebags. I took two of them and went up the three-legged horse, where my pipbuck was helpfully displaying Brawny Steed’s hangout.

I noticed behind me that John shook his head disapprovingly at my use of the drug, but said nothing. He went inside as I reached the front porch, presumably to talk to Butter Cake.

Sure enough, Brawny was sitting out front, with his feet cheerfully plopped up in the seat next to him, and his hat covering his face. I sat in the only other seat and spoke to him, feeling very smooth.

“Howdy,” I said.

“ello there,” he said, sitting up. “What can I do fer ya?”

“I hear,” I said, leaning in. “You happen to be sitting upon a nice stack of some dynamite. Now, normally knowing I have nothing but the greatest respect for you and you wishes I have ask if I can’t use some of it to fight off these annoying gangsters that’ll be rolling in.”

Brawny eyed me wearily.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “You don’t strike me as knowing one end from the other. You’ll blow yourself and the others to hell.”

“I do so know dynamite,” I lied. “Lemme see a stick.”

Pete handed me one and my brain calculated what there was to see about it at super-speed.

“Pretty standard,” I said, taking a guess. “Looks like a three second fuse, standard internal workings. I’m guessing these have a blast radius of about two and half feet?”

Brawny’s eyebrows raised and I could tell he truly knew as little about the little sticks as I did, but he wasn’t willing to admit it.

“Well…” he said slowly. “I suppose you got that about right… I guess I could spare a few sticks… so long as you don’t go blowing any pony else up or nothing.”

“I’ll be careful,” I said, honestly for the first time in our conversation.

I went inside to see how John was doing, and it was easy to see he could’ve gotten Butter Cake to raise an army for us if he’d asked. A little while later we head off together to the small doctor’s office Trottingham offered.

When we entered I saw a pony wearing a long labcoat with a med box slung around his neck. His dark orange coat and purple mane were in stark contrast with each other, and he bore a disturbing smile the moment his door opened. John smiled jovially as we approached the pony.

“Hello there John,” said the doctor.

“Hello!” said John, not deterred at all. “We were hoping you’d be able to help.”

“There’s going to be a group of convicts shooting the place up tonight,” I said. “We were hoping you’d be able to give us some medical supplies to help in case there’s any injuries.”

“Sure thing,” said the doctor, putting a few health potions into my saddlebags. “I don’t have much, but what I have you can use.”

I was fully pleased, and ready to leave when John cleared his throat.

“Come on now doc,” he said. “These guys are going to be using dynamite and explosives. We’ll need all you got.”

The doctor looked as though he was about to refuse, then went into a back room. He came back a few minutes later, laying two bags down at John’s feet.

“I wouldn’t give these to any other pony… but as it’s you…”

I looked down at the two bags John was carefully putting into his own saddlebags and my pipbuck helpfully labeled them as doctor’s bags, not that I knew what they did. John winked at me as we went outside, moving towards the general goods store. As I opened the door carefully, I saw a large interior where several guns and bullets were displayed. I felt very out of my element.

John, on the other hand was very, very in place. He walked up, cool as you please, to the owner of the store. Now that I could clearly see the pony, I examined him. He had a light pink mane and a dusty brown coat. His eyes were golden-brown and had a greedy shine in them. I had seen that same shine plenty of times in Stable 221 and felt this wasn’t going to go well.

“Hey there Cherry!” called John, waving.

“Cut the friendly carp, pegasus!” said Cherry Pie, frowning heavily. “You here to do business or not?”

“Consider that we are here for a chance to invest,” I said. “There’s a bunch of gangster ponies coming to blow this place to the ground tonight.”

“I had heard,” said the sales pony.

“Well if everypony gets killed in this battle,” said John. “You won’t be able to do any business. We were hoping you could lend everyone a set of that new leather armor you just got in.”

“Oh I see,” said Cherry Pie, frowning. “And who is paying me for this donation?”

“The ponies who live,” I said. “Through future business. They can’t very well trade with you if they’re dead.”

Cherry Pie seemed to consider this for a long moment, finally slapping a hoof down on the floor.

“No,” he said. “I can’t take that hit, and I bet them gangsters would be just as willing to trade as the Trottingham ponies. Besides, there’ll be a fair few left and you’ll be dead. So, that’s a good plus.”

We had no choice but to walk away, defeated.

“A right…” I searched for the proper insulting term… failing to come up with anything colorful enough. “Fuckhead… no I mean… He’s no better than Celestia’s… He’s a jerk.”

John turned to me.

“Yeah… Jerk sums Cherry Pie up pretty well, but he’s in business for himself, and we can’t change his mind on it.”

We returned to the small shop where Rosemary was staying and we found her laying concealed in a corner. John sat next to her, explaining that we’d gotten no small amount of help from the townspeople. I saw a safe laying on the ground that Rosemary hadn’t been able to open and went to work on it with my tools.

The safe was a simple lock, but it still took a couple tries to get it right. Eventually, it popped open, revealing the secrets inside. I found several bullets for my revolver and rifle. There was also a small amount of caps and two vials of something labeled as dash. I wasn’t sure what dash was, and pulled it up on my pipbuck, which apparently could tell me everything about anything.

Dash – A powerful hallucinogenic stimulant. It gives the user a slowed perception of time, allowing the user to think and act faster than they normally can, which makes it a useful combat drug.

That sounded like something right up my alley. My pipbuck flashed several warnings about the drug being addictive, but I wasn’t worried. After all, I’d already been through a completely dry withdrawal of Mint-als, so how bad could this Dash be?

I put them in my saddlebags and then noticed the mattress laying on the floor of the hut and a carton of cigarettes.

“Do you mind?” I asked, indicating both of these.

“Not at all,” said Rosemary,

I lay on the mattress for a short time, smoking and thinking calmly about the upcoming battle. Eventually, it occurred to me that I hadn’t slept for two days, and how very tired I was… I debated staying awake until the battle was over, but that wasn’t a good idea. I would be shaky and unable to aim.

Instead I turned to John.

“Wake me in a few hours, will you?”

He nodded and I let myself drift into the world of dreams for the first time since entering the wasteland.

Note: Level Up!

Perk – Swift learner – Between your natural intellect and several Mint-als, you’ve mastered the art of a true student. You gain experience 10% faster.

Chapter 7: Battle

The time for action... Hmh... is upon us! Our stampede will start at high noon tomorrow. And if the orchard is still there, we'll flatten it, and the whole town!

Chapter 7: Battle

“Hey Sherclop,” said John, shaking me awake. “It’s time.”

I sprung up, forcing my foggy brain to start working. I considered taking a Mint-al or even some of the Dash I’d gotten from the safe, but decided against it. I didn’t need them and it would be better to be clean for this fight.

I loaded the revolver and rifle, and walked outside. I quickly saw several of the other Trottingham ponies gathered and ready to fight. I felt proud. Here I was, a little no-nothing stable pony, and I had helped convince a whole town to fight off some gangsters who would’ve made them suffer otherwise.

“How many?” I asked Butter Cake.

“Six, I think. We’re waiting for your signal.”

I glanced over at John, who nodded to me, giving me control of the situation… which I hadn’t expected. I tossed both him and Butter Cake a stick of dynamite and started a countdown.

“Light them on one. Five…”

I saw three of them clearly now.

“Four… Three…”

They all bore similar barding to the first pony we’d seen inside The Three-Legged Horse earlier.

“Two…”

All six were plainly visible now, but they couldn’t see us, hidden by the houses and shacks.

“One… throw!” I hissed.

They did as I said and I was satisfied to see our aim had been true.

BOOM!

Two ponies were blown apart by our attack. It disturbed me for a moment to think that I was pleased by the sight of other ponies dying. How much I had changed from the thinker in Stable 221. Yet, I hadn’t really changed much… at least not on the inside. I mean, I was always willing to fight to defend those who didn’t deserve death.

Redbook’s death flashed through my mind. It would not happen again… not like that. I sprinted forward, shouting my attack and firing my rifle at the ponies. I took down one and I heard John’s twin rifles go off as another prisoner pony fell. I reached the one furthest back and attacked him with my bare hooves. He desperately tried to defend himself, but no pony matched me in hoof-to-hoof combat. Soon, his blood poured over my hooves, and I turned back to see what had become of the last pony. To my horror, he was standing over Butter Cake’s limp body, and had just thrown two lit sticks of dynamite.

It didn’t matter how good I was or how fast I ran. Nothing I could do would stop those sticks from going off.

“RUN!” I shouted.

BOOM!

My warning came too late for Old Man Brawny and another townspony, who both got blown to pieces by the first stick. Their legs and blood flew through the air carelessly, as their lifeless heads fell into the dirt. It was their eyes… their damn eyes as all the life left them.

I was forced to watch in horror as a third pony was killed by the second stick the pony had thrown. Once more, there was an explosion and a spray of blood. Once more, an innocent pony died. It was Stable 221 all over again. It was Redbook all over again.

I galloped as hard as I could at the last convict pony, shooting him several times with the rifle. As he fell, I saw a third stick of dynamite fall from his hooves. I did the only thing I could think of that might stop it from killing Butter Cake and shot it.

BOOM!

I saw, as if in slow motion, Butter Cake’s limp body right before the explosion rocked her. I saw her eyes, wide in horror and pain. I saw her mouth open in a silent scream. I saw in her the desire to live… and how she would have given anything in that moment just to live… and then I killed her…

I killed her…

I killed an innocent…

It didn’t matter that I had been trying to save her… It didn’t matter that I instantly felt the pain of her death on my shoulders… I was a murderer… more so than even Myclop was.

I had been able to smash bots and kill a manticore. I was able to stamp on legionnaires and shoot up convict ponies. But I had just killed somepony that had showed me nothing but kindness. She had let me into her bar and served me. I’d even watched John convince her to help at my urging. I had killed her. I wanted the town to fight back. Not just her either, but the three others who had died because of my actions.

The other townsponies slowly came out, checking their dead… I couldn’t move. John landed next to me, placing a sympathetic hoof on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. I didn’t want his compassion right now… I didn’t deserve it.

I went over to The Three-Legged Horse… and leaned against the building that now had no owner. I heard many of the others weeping over their lost. I joined them, silent as the victims of my stupidity. Myclop would’ve been displeased with my actions… Hell, I was disappointed with my own short-sightedness. Why did I think just wanting to make a difference mattered?

Intentions don’t matter. Your heart doesn’t matter. All that matters is the result… the ending… and I was fucking this ending every way from Sunday. I heard John sit next to me, and pull out a bottle of something.

Next thing I knew, a bottle of apple whiskey was pushed into my hooves.

“Drink,” he said simply.

I obeyed. I had never had whiskey before and was surprised at the slight burn that spread throughout my body. I took another sip and a pleasant numbness began to spread through my brain. Of course it didn’t stop the pain of what I’d done, but it did help dull it.

“How’d you know?” I asked.

“Pegasus enclave, remember? I’ve seen that look before. Listen Sherclop… what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” I lied.

“No, you don’t. You made the best choice you could to help a pony… I’d have made the same choice. Hell, I did make the same choice. And it wasn’t you who convinced Butter Cake to fight, nor the other townsponies either. They all decided to help. It was their actions that put them there.”

I turned to him.

“But…”

“No but. You want to blame someone, blame the prison ponies who did this. They’re the only ones who should pay for what happened here… and I say you did more than your fair share in bringing that brand of justice about.”

We sat in silence, passing the whiskey back and forth. To their credit, nopony yelled at me. None of them accused me of the slaughter that had just ripped the town in half. Not that any of them had to… I was doing a pretty decent job of it myself.

After a long time… maybe too long, John spoke to me with a slurred tone.

“So, what do you want to do now?”

It was a question I’d been avoiding asking myself. I didn’t know what to do now. I was angry. Angry at myself, and angry at the wasteland for what happened, but above all, I was angry at the prisoners. Once I knew that, it wasn’t so hard for me to decide what I wanted to do.

“Those ponies,” I said. “They came from the NCE prison, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You know where that is?”

“Yes. It’s not more than a few hours from here.”

“You up for fucking some gang ponies up?”

John eyed me carefully.

“It won’t change anything,” he warned me. “It won’t undo the battle here.”

“I know,” I said, gasping. “But those types of ponies are only going to keep coming after others until they have all they can.”

“So what?” asked John. “You just want to go in, guns blazing until anypony wearing a correctional outfit is dead?”

I considered it… thinking hard, as the mint-als I’d taken had now flushed out of my system.

“We ask them about their indictment. I can read them and tell if they’re lying. If either one objects, we leave them alive. Anypony else, or anypony who attack us, we blow their brains out.”

John looked at me for a long moment, then nodded.

“I’m with you.”

I didn’t have to thank him. He wasn’t following me out of loyalty. It was because he agreed with what I’d said. John was a good pony, certainly better than I was, and he was willing to let me take the lead. It made me feel a little better.

“Hey you two,” said Rosemary.

I scowled. I couldn’t blame Rosemary for what had happened. Not really. She certainly hadn’t had the idea to fight the prison ponies. That had been my idea, or maybe John and I had it at the same time. Either way, it wasn’t Rosemary’s fault. That didn’t change the fact that if she hadn’t fled to this place, many ponies would still be alive.

“Hey,” said John, dully.

“I know it’s not a great time for this, but I’m taking off, and you did help me a lot so…”

She placed a bag of caps in front of us. I shook my head. This was the last thing I wanted. I did not deserve to be paid for this slaughter. John put the caps in his saddlebags and stood.

“Sherclop, if we’re gonna get to it. This is as good a time as any. I don’t really want to be around here any longer than I need to be.”

I agreed and got to my hooves shakily. The sun was rising over the distant hills, albeit covered by clouds. I shook myself slightly and began to move.

“Let’s go.”

“First, help me loot these guys,” said John indicating the dead prison ponies.

“What?”

“Look, you haven’t been outside long enough to get how this works. You may not like it, I sure don’t. But down here, it’s a matter of taking what you can from the dead. They can’t use it where they’re going and you and I will need all the ammo and armor we can get. Besides, dressing like a couple of these fools won’t hurt for getting inside that place.”

I cringed. There was no denying his logic, no matter how monstrous this seemed. Soon, I was wearing some of their makeshift barding and had more bullets for both guns than I knew what to do with. Somehow, John seemed to be finding far more than I was and kept handing me the extras.

We soon had a few extra health potions and even another vial of dash in our arsenal. I found Cherry Pie, coward that he was, in his shop and did some quick trading, using all the extra items we’d found for some extra Mint-als and a decent set of parts for our guns.

I set to work repairing our equipment, which was something I did better than even John, and I was happy to actually be able to contribute to our little team. Before the sun was very high in the sky we were decked out in gear and ready to head out.

John, being the more experienced traveler out of the two of us, took the lead. Showing me down the highway. We passed several shacks and small houses. Most seemed abandoned. I quickly realized that towns like Trottingham were going to be far and few between.

“If you keep going down the road,” said John. “You’ll hit Dodge Junction. It’s a large place and has got decent defense, but they got some stand-off with the NCE and some mercenaries right now.”

“Might be worth looking into,” I said.

“So, what is your end plan in all this?” asked John. “You just gonna roam around the wasteland and fix what you find?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I see now reason I can’t do my best to help while I figure it out.”

John nodded in his approval of my answer.

“Be careful,” he said, pointing out two ponies clad in prison garb.

My pipbuck helpfully labeled them as Dyno Doomponies. What a stupid gang name. They deserved to pay for that alone; not to mention how angry I was over Butter Cake and the others. I walked right up to the pair. Despite being dressed in their gear they must’ve heard about John and I, because they snarled as I came face-to-face with them.

“We’ve heard about you, Sherclop Pones,” they said. “You haven’t made any friends among us.”

“Really? Let me fix that.”

I floated out the revolver and aimed right between the lead Doompony’s eyes.

Bang!

“What the fuck?!” yelled the other one as his friend fell down dead.

Bang Bang!

And the other pony never spoke again.

Chapter 8: Judge, Jury and Executioner

It’s quite lonely be encased in stone, but you wouldn’t know that would you? Because I don’t turn ponies into stone!

Chapter 8: Judge, Jury and Executioner

“How many do you figure can be in that place?”

“It’s a very small prison,” I said, peering into the yard with my rifle. “Even at mass capacity, I can’t see it holding more than thirty, and it’s given over to the Dyno Doomponies now. I only see three in guard towers and another three in the yard. Take away the six that attacked Trottingham and I’d say it’s a max of eighteen inside, assuming no others have left. However, if that other group is any indication, I’d say it’s closer to ten.”

“Alright, I’ll take out the guard tower ponies, count to ten and snipe the ponies out of the prison yard and we’ll meet up at the visitor’s entrance.”

I nodded. John flew off and I picked my first target, tracking him with my rifle.

“One… Two… Three…”

I took a moment to ponder how much I’d changed in so little time… and if I really had changed. I would say that two days ago I would never have agreed to charge a prison of some twenty-odd ponies with only one pegasus for support. But I would’ve also said I would never challenge a team of one hundred or so bots without a weapon and I’d done that too.

“Four… Five… Six…”

Had I really changed at all? Seeking revenge on a group seemed a new trait within myself, but it wasn’t as if I had any sort of reservation about killing these ponies. Maybe the wasteland didn’t change ponies, but it just grinded parts of us down to the rawest form.

“Seven… Eight… Nine…”

I have always believed that at our core, we are nothing more than true animals and it is only years of so-called evolving that we maintain a façade of advancement. Whatever the cause, I was about to commit several accounts of pre-meditated murder. I took in a large breath.

“Ten.”

Pop!

I hit the target dead on and he dropped. I had no time to celebrate my hit. I was already targeting the next ponies, wondering towards my first kill.

Pop! Pop!

Dead.

I released my breath and took in another as I targeted the last pony within the yard. He never had a chance.

Pop!

I reloaded the rifle and switched to my revolver as I charged down the hill at the single guard at the gate. How stupid, never leave a long guard anywhere. He saw me and I saw fear fill his face. It didn’t matter that I was yelling and swinging a revolver around, and that he had a rifle that could’ve easily shot me. I was terrifying to him.

I reached him within seconds and targeted him with S.A.T.S.

Bang! Bang Bang! Bang!

Four clean body shots and the bastard dropped, blood pooling around him. I felt no sorrow for him. I reached the door and John landed next to me, nodding. I paused and quickly took a hit of one of the Dash vials. The ability to think would help in these small spaces. I quickly realized something.

Dash was amazing. It was like moving at half speed. I could easily see and move but I could think and analyze so much faster. I kicked the door open and before it had even finished opening I could see three Dyno Doomponies inside I saw that two of the three were already reaching for weapons and my revolver rang out.

Bang Bang! Bang Bang!

Headshots on the both of them.

I aimed for the last one and saw fear spread through his face. I could tell from the true fear in his face, whatever else he would do, he wasn’t going to harm us. I lowered the pistol and charged out the back door into the yard. Yelling disjointedly at John to check the cell block while I hit the administration building.

I busted the door in with magic while glancing around. It was pitch black so I cast the night vision spell I’d learned my first night in the wasteland. Now, I could actually see and I saw that five Dyno Doomponies were in the main cell directly in front of me, grabbing for their weapons.

Luckily, the Dash was still in full effect so I quickly threw two sticks of dynamite in the cell and retreated out the door.

BA-BOOM!

The door was blown back open as I felt the Dash wear off. I ran back inside and couldn’t help but throw up. It was a disgusting sight of half-mangled ponies and bloody stumps. Blood was everywhere! I knew it would be no help even trying to loot them. What was left of the group was yelling and moaning as blood left the last of their bodies.

What I was not ready for was when two more convicts came down the stairs, guns blazing. I felt their bullets pierce my barding and go into my body. Pain flash through me in a rush and I fell back into the cell of blood and guts I’d just created. They were not at all put off by the blood bath I’d made and ran right in, shooting. I sprayed my revolver wildly, but I was in too much pain to react properly and my vision was quickly starting to darken. I squinted and saw the barrels of their guns, and I reacted quickly, activating S.A.T.S. Praying I wouldn’t miss, I put two shots into either pony’s head.

Bang Bang!

To my relief, both of my attackers went down, and I fell against the wall, allowing myself to breathe for a moment. I was about to take a healing potion or three when suddenly I heard a small hissing and my pipbuck sent out an alert. I looked up and saw that one of the fuckers I had shot down had enough life left in him to throw a stick of dynamite, and here I was back stupidly into a wall.

I had no other option, so I booked it was fast as my hooves would carry me up the stairs. Not fast enough to escape injury…

BOOM!

My back legs felt searing agony and gave out, forcing me to the ground. I had definitely just broken bones, and that wasn’t including any damage the bullet wounds were doing. I reached for two healing potions, drinking them ask quickly as I could. The holes in me quickly close up and I could feel my very life slip back into my control.

My legs were still crippled but soon enough John would find me and hopefully be able to help. As it turned out I didn’t have long to wait. He’d heard the dynamite and feared something had happened to me… Well… something had happened.

“Are you ok?!” he asked, checking me.

“Legs are broken I think. I took some healing potions so other than that I’m alright.”

“Don’t move, or I’ll set the bone wrong.”

John pulled out the doctor’s bags I’d seen him grab back in Trottingham. The thought sent a pang of regret through my heart. He pulled out the contents and I saw pieces and materials I couldn’t begin to make heads or tails of. John seemed to know them well enough and set to work fixing me. I won’t lie and saw that it was pleasant. We didn’t have any sort of anesthetic to knock me out, so I was awake as he moved and set my bones properly, and I fought to move an inch.

John also insisted on checking my bullet injuries before I was allowed to move to the mattress.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

“Uh-oh? That’s not a comforting sound coming from my doctor,” I said, longing for another hit of dash.

“One of them didn’t pass through,” he said simply. “The potions mend the muscle and tissue… they aren’t meant to push out foreign substances.”

“So you have to dig it out…”

“Yeah… I have the tools in here… but…”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Yeah… This isn’t like moving your bones. I’m going to have to cut into the muscle and nerve endings… And actually remove the bullet…”

“Dammit.”

“You’ll have to keep from going into shock… Do you have any sort of memory or something you can take comfort in? It doesn’t have to be all that happy, just calm you down. You’re almost hyperventilating as it is.”

I scanned my brain terminal. Sure enough I had two or three such memories. They were really just casework I’d had back in Stable 221, and as long as I didn’t think of Redbook, I figured I would be ok. I nodded.

“Got them.”

“Ok,” John said, taking several scalpels out of the bag. “Deep breath now.”

I retreated into my memories. Due to my photographic memory, I have perfect recall. I can remember everything in perfect color, texture and smell and feeling. However, the problem of this was that I wasn’t using anything to block out what was currently happening to me. I could feel John’s scalpel as it would dig into my skin.

Honestly, the first part wasn’t so bad. Not nearly as painful as the bullets had been. The next part wasn’t so pleasant. He took his little knife and plunged it deep into my flank. I was desperately trying to keep my focus on the case of Flitterlight, the Unicorn that had apparently traded in his horn for wings one day. Our entire stable had been in an uproar about it and, of course, Myclop had put me on the case. At first, I admit I was stumped and… OW! Fuck this was really starting to hurt.

Against my will I yelled in pain. I could hear John apologizing and working as fast as he could.

The case! I reminded myself. Focus on the case.

First, I confirmed the wings were in fact very attached to the pegasus… ex-unicorn… to the pony at any rate. Despite my best examination, I could find nothing indicating the wings were fake. I’d searched for days through the library for anything that could turn a pony into a pegasus or even an alicorn to no avail. Finally, I’d just hacked the terminal outside their room and checked inside.

Sure enough, I’d found the young unicorn mare inside with her horn still very much intact. As it turned out, there had always been twin ponies, perfectly mirroring the other, save for their wings and horn respectively

It was a bait and switch, simple plan played out by the parents… though I never found out what the purpose might’ve been. That was the case that had alerted me to the fact that there was in fact secrets down in the dark depths of Stable 221. Secrets no one else knew… secrets Myclop would’ve rather kept hidden… if only…

“Done,” said John. “Drink.”

He handed me a healing potion and I gulped it down, thankful for the end of the pain. John threw the twisted bullet onto the ground and carried me (much against my protests) to a mattress where I could finally get some proper rest. I tried to ignore the smell of death all around me as I passed into the world of dreams.

I awoke three hours later, feeling much better than when I’d fallen asleep. I found John, preparing some food outside the building where I’d killed the group of ponies. I checked inside to see that the last two I’d killed were the only two left in relatively good condition.

These two I looted, finding I could repair my armor with pieces of theirs’ and I found several bullets for my rifle, and an administrative key. I went upstairs slowly, revolver at the ready, but I found no opposition. Using the key to unlock the door at the top of the stairs, I peeked inside ready to shoot.

There were several stashes of ammunition and crates of explosives, and a terminal. I got giddy over the piece of stable-tech, until I discovered that it wasn’t protected. Saddened by the knowledge, I peeked at the entries on it. There wasn’t much of interest, just the warden’s journal. He voiced several concerns about the NCE taking his men and about somepony named Cooke controlling the prisoners for an uprising.

“You were right to be worried,” I said to the long dead pony.

I turned off the terminal and searched around the room for anything John and I could use: ammo, healing items and any other vials of Dash or Mint-als. I found that I still wanted to take another hit of the Dash, but was able to resist without much problem. After all, I had no desire to go through another full withdrawal.

I took a stash of bullets off the counter and my pipbuck alerted me that I was technically thieving.

“Wait,” I said aloud. “So if they attack me and I kill them, then I have dibs. But if I kill thieves and murderers, I’d better not touch what they stole?”

The pipbuck remained silent, and I believe that it was as much out of a lack for retort as its inability to speak.

After I had finished looting the room of anything useful, I went back to John, sitting as he was passing out meals to the ponies we’d left alive and finally he gave one to me. I ate it happily. I couldn’t begin to guess at why type of meat was on the plate, but I enjoyed it none the less. It was odd, normally I would say ponies shouldn’t eat meat, but I had no issue with this stuff. I mean, sure it wasn’t any kind of apple or anything, but it was good.

“So,” I said after eating. “What are you guys incarcerated for?”

I went down the line of ponies. I heard nothing unusual in their stories. Some were thieves, some had committed murder, but they’d been smart enough not to join the Dyno Doomponies. Two were rapists, who John and I agreed on killing. We executed them coldly.

I’ve never had patience with rapists, and John apparently shared my hatred of them. The last pony we’d left did have a story.

“Name’s Meyers,” he said.

I laughed.

“So what’d you do,” I asked. “Write a bunch of shitty Vampony books?”

Everyone looked at me in utter confusion. I realized nopony else had the luxury of being able to pick books out of a library like we had.

“I sped up justice,” Meyers said simply.

John and I didn’t feel the need to ask anymore. Meyers was the only pony we felt had been unjustly imprisoned.

“You can come with us to Dodge Junction if you want. I’ll make sure the NCE gives you a pardon. The rest of you will wait for the NCE to send proper guards back here. I trust you’re not stupid enough to leave the only source of water around for miles, but in case you are, know that I have a perfect memory of each and every one of your faces… and if you run away, I will personally hunt you down and think of the most gruesome death I can for you.”

I could tell by looking at them that nopony would dare run.

Notes: Level up!

Perk: Educated – You are an egghead! Due to your mind-numbing studies you gain an extra skill points per level!

Chapter 9: Lestride

Oh, I can’t believe this! I’m so frustrated I could just scream!

Chapter 9: Lestride

I knew that the NCE had a fort gathering outside of Dodge Junction… but I wasn’t ready for what I saw. Despite my understanding of the post-war world as an unsophisticated and psychotic wasteland, these ponies had somehow created a proper military force. They even had a flag that bore the sun with a rapier through the center. I had no idea what idiot had thought of that but the fashion ponies of old Canterlot would not have approved.

I shrugged, filing the flag’s symbol away in my brain terminal. John looked highly uneasy.

“You alright?” I asked him.

“Let’s just say that the NCE doesn’t have the highest view of enclave pegasai who drop out. They view it as desertion.”

“You want to wait for me out here?” I asked, but John shook his head.

“You get into too much trouble when I leave you alone. Besides, anywhere you go fun is soon to follow, and I like your type of fun.”

“You actually like battle?”

“For the right reasons, I do. I was a born battle-pony. It’s one of the reasons I’m a natural flier. Never met another pony quite like me in my life… Granted, I’ve barely met other pegasai since I’ve been down here.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The Enclave? Not really, too much sitting on my ass and not enough shooting bad ponies. Let’s get going, my wings are itching to get into the action.”

I nodded, eating an apple merrily as I trotted up to the large group of tents. One of the NCE ponies trotted up to us. She was a lightly colored tan mare, with pure white hair and shocking blue eyes. She still seemed young, new into her adulthood, but I could tell she knew how to use a weapon. She wore a battle saddle, similar to John’s, but sleeker, and with the same logo branded into it.

“Hold it,” she said, voice full of authority. “Sergeant Lestride of the NCE. Dodge Junction’s under watch by the military, civillians. You best go back to where you’re from.”

“You can tell why I don’t like the thought of actually joining these guys,” hissed John.

“Damn straight,” I whispered.

“Stand down sergeant,” said John, speaking in the same military brush. “Captain John Trotson of the Pegasus Enclave. My associate and I have business we must see to inside Dodge Junction.”

Lestride hissed, and I used her distraction with John to hit S.A.T.S. and examine her. She had all the military wear and tear of a solider. She was very proud of the work she’d done with the NCE, but was also had the haunted look in her eyes that told me she’d done plenty of things she wasn’t proud of.

With a shudder I remembered Trottingham.

“First off, ex-captain,” she said. “The Enclave has no authority over us. Secondly, while I can’t stop you from going in, I certainly don’t have to protect you if you rush into your own death.

“I am Sherclop Pones,” I said, regally as I could muster. “I am he who rights wrongs through pure brilliance, deductions and firepower. John Trotson and I single-hoovedly cleared out your overrun correction facility up the road there. I would think you’d have the quarter of a brain required to hear us out.”

John snickered at my descriptions, and I heard him hiss, “He who rights wrongs? What you, a power pony?”

Lestride eyed me wearily.

“You two really cleared out all the Dyno Doomponies?”

“Sure did.”

“Well, I suppose there’s more to you than I can see. You should talk to the Lieutenant.”

Lestride led us through a small maze of tents and makeshift barriers and finally pointed out a large tent to us. We entered, careful not to look like we were posing a threat to anyone.

“Who are you?” asked a gruff, worn pony behind a desk.

“Sherclop Pones,” I said. “And this is my partner, John Trotson. We’re here for a few reasons. Firstly, your correction facility up the road a way is clear of the Dyno Doomponies and is need of some looking over.”

“What?!” asked the old stallion, a look of sheer disbelief upon his face.

“Secondly, one of the prisoners there, Meyers, needs a pardon. And thirdly, I want to go into Dodge Junction and see if I can’t finish the job you’re too scared to do.”

I felt John tense up, and felt I might have overstepped a bit.

“Alright here scrubs,” he said. “First off, who cleared this prison? Can you trust them?”

“I think so,” I said. “Considering the ‘they’ is us.”

“You two… all on your own, subdued 29 prisoners?”

“Well… We subdued some and may not have subdued others.”

“So there’s still a threat in that prison?”

“Nope,” said John simply.

“Oh,” said the lieutenant, understanding. “Alright, why should I pardon this Meyers? I take it he’s at that facility?”

“He is yes, and you should do it because he never took part in the uprising and because I’m asking you to… and you owe me. You’ll owe me again after you let me into Dodge Junction.”

“Hell I will!” exclaimed the stallion. “You two may be crazy, but I won’t stop you for doing what you’re doing. Tell you what. Take sergeant Lestride with you into town. She’s a good fighter and knows Dodge a hell of a lot better than you two.”

“We will. In the meantime see what you can do about pardoning our man and getting some men up at the NCECF.”

“Will do, although let me warn you, Sherclop Pones… if you get one of my men killed, the entire NCE will rain down on you like hellfire.”

“Noted.”

We left the tent and Lestride was called in, no doubt to be given her mission.

“What do you think of her?” John asked.

“She’s a very proud pony, but she’ll follow orders. I think we can trust her as far as her orders allow us to. But if she’s ordered to kill us, I don’t think she’ll hesitate.”

John nodded, checking his twin rifles for any signs of wear. After a few moments, Lestride came out, her automatic rifle on her back and ready to go.

“Alright,” she said, brandishing her military power. “Rules. Stay low, shoot anything that moves and don’t disobey orders.”

“There’s plenty of civilians still inside the houses,” I said. “I won’t hunt and kill innocents.”

Lestride cocked her head at me.

“What corner of the wasteland were you born into?”

“A stable,” I said, indicating my pipbuck.

“That explains a lot. Listen, all those ‘innocents’ are tucked into Philomena’s Fire.”

“Into who’s what now?”

“A casino,” Lestride said, rolling her eyes.

My pipbuck beeped informing me it had found the location of Philomena’s Fire. I shrugged and readied the revolver for action. Lestride led us up to the small bridge, which served as the only way into Dodge Junction. As we approached and began to cross it, she held up a hoof.

“Hold it,” she said, pointing to several mines lying on the ground. “These mercs are clever little bastards.”

She moved swiftly, disarming the mines with ease. I took special note of how she did it and felt I could replicate her actions simply enough. She moved to the last mine and this time, she wasn’t fast enough I heard beeping and out of alarm I hit S.A.T.S.

To my relief, I was lucky enough to do it in time and used my telekinesis to throw the mine off of the bridge out of harm’s way. Lestride stood breathing heavily for a moment.

“Th-Thank you,” she said, gasping slightly. “I thought I was in real trouble there.”

“Let’s move forward,” said John firmly.

We entered Dodge Junction and found the town was practically a ghost town. No one was on our street at all, though it was clear this was once a truly bustling place. All the buildings around were in horrible disrepair. It was clear after looking around that this place was not like Trottingham.

This place was around before the war, and they’d tried to salvage what was left of a once great town, which I couldn’t fault them for… Hell I might’ve tried it if I were in their hooves. There was a small shack reading Sheriff’s Office on it.

“Let’s check it out,” I said, pointing at it with my revolver.

“You don’t actually think there’s still a sheriff here, do you?” asked Lestride sarcastically.

“No, but there probably are some supplies, and we need some ammo and potions.”

I lead the way into the shack and almost threw up. The stink was so horrid, I could feel my very skin crawl in protest. There really was no mistaking that smell. Somepony in here was dead, and had been rotting in this place for some time. Fighting the urge to throw my lunch up into this shack, I began to look around.

I found a vial of Dash and two Mint-als, which I quickly stashed in my bags when I felt John wasn’t watching me. It wasn’t that I had any sort of problem. I just didn’t like the look he always shot me when I used them. In the next room I saw what was causing the disgusting smell of the place, and despite myself, I did throw up.

“Stables never prepared our pampered prince for this kind of thing, huh?” asked Lestride, smugly.

She wasn’t wrong.

In the bed were the bodies of two ponies, one stallion and one mare, both headless. I could clearly see that some deranged pony had taken a hacksaw and cut off their heads as high up as they could manage. It was clear we were looking at the murder scene. Blood was everywhere, and it had dried here a long time ago. The mare’s body bore signs of being sexually violated… several times.

“That’s sick,” I hissed.

John walked up to the bodies, examining them carefully. I realized both he and Lestride had the military training to fall back on when they saw things like this. I had… my intellect… and right now it wasn’t comforting me. Logically, I knew that this was just a chemical reaction in my head. My brain was sending endorphins into my bodies because it had acknowledged I might be in danger, so it was preparing me for fight or flight. Logically analyzing it didn’t help me move past it.

“They’ve been dead for a while,” said John, “Hard to say exactly how long it was, but for several days, maybe a week. I can’t tell much more without my tools.”

“Were they dead when…” I started.

“Multiple scratch marks indicate the cause of death was the beheading,” he said sourly. “The mare was sexually violated post-mortem.”

I knew he had to speak officially to steady himself and keep from being sick himself, and I let him. I let what John had seen from the bodies wash over my brain. I couldn’t decide whether to be grateful that the mare hadn’t suffered anymore than she had, or disgusted at what the bandits had done to her afterward.

I settled on grateful, and checked that my guns were loaded before slipping them into the saddlebags. I wanted to be ready in case I needed them, but until I did, I wanted to crush their skulls with my bare hooves. We went back into the town and my pipbuck flashed two red blips around the corner of the next building. I crotched down behind the corner and signaled the other two to be quiet.

Judging from the blips, they were getting closer, and indeed I could hear voices.

“Man, already picked this damn place clean. We should pull out.”

“How do you think we’ll do that. The damn NCE had the bridge covered and we can’t get into the casino.”

“So what, we just stay here until we starve?”

“All I’m saying is I don’t want to be eating lead for breakfast.”

With this statement the two had slid right past me with out noticing.

“SO EAT MY FUCKING HOOVES!” I shouted, leaping on the stallion on the right.

He didn’t even have time to see me before I beat his muzzle into his brain. The mare he’d been talking to turned to me, readying her rifle. I had more than enough time to knock it from her grip and send it skidding across the ground.

“What the fuck?!” she shouted.

“Run back to your friends. Tell them Sherclop Pones is coming to rip them limb from limb, and if I even think you stop to breathe on the back, I will fucking eat you!”

She took off into a full gallop towards and abandoned building. I took note of it and took her gun before looting her friend. Admittedly, letting her live wasn’t smart, but I didn’t care. I was furious and I wanted to put the very fear of hell into these bastard ponies.

“Well…” said Lestride, her voice wavering. “That was terrifying.”

“Good one,” said John simply. “You ready to fuck those bastards up?”

“In a moment,” I said. “Let’s check in the casino, and make sure the others are safe first.”

Chapter 10: Knock Knock

Oh, you wanna do this the hard way? We’ll do this the hard way!

Chapter 10: Knock Knock

We entered Philomena’s Fire to find an old earth pony pointing a revolver at us. I vaguely wondered how many times I could open a door to see this type of scene. After he looked at us for about a second he spoke.

“Oh,” he said. “You lot ain’t no raider ponies.”

“No, we’re not!” said Lestride, angrily.

“I am Sherclop Pones. These are my associates John Trottson and Lestride of the New Crystal Empire.”

Behind me, Lestride hissed, “When did I become his associate?”

The old pony holstered the revolver.

“Sorry y’all,” he said. “Been all too used to them raider ponies tryin’ to bust in here. We gave ‘em hell of a fight last time. Can’t see ‘em rightly tryin’ again anytime soon, but ya can't be too careful. Name’s Rusty Cover.”

“I bet you guys got some practice,” said John, admiring the guns several ponies inside bore. “This place could be my kind of town… You know, if the raiders and NCE weren’t here.”

Lestride threw him a dirty look.

“Why are you all hiding in here?” she asked.

“It’s obvious,” I said. “You all can maintain a decent defense, and I bet there’s a security bot somewhere here that gives you all a huge defense boost.”

“Right on the money you are Mr. Pones. Old Clarance over there is always a good help against them raiders. Dead good shot too. Might as well make him deputy, least after Dull Bowie is dead.”

“Dull Bowie?” I asked.

“He’s our deputy… coward one at that,” said Rusty. “The raiders took him into that large building across the way and haven’t come out with him yet. I figure they’ll try and make him a piece to trade so the NCE lets them leave in one piece.”

“We won’t!” said Lestride.

“Well that’s a real comfort,” said Rusty sarcastically.

“You do any trading?” I asked, trying to ignore the aches in my back from the gear I’d been caring since Trottingham. “We could use a place to get some sleep too.”

“Oh wow, been ages since I thought I’d get to do business. I’m a bartering pony, and I haven’t had anypony more to barter with since the raiders came to town. As for sleeping, there’s a few mats behind the counter, but it ain’t much.”

I left John with what I didn’t want anymore and let him do the bartering, being that he was far more experienced in trade, and took a look around the place. The ponies in here were absolutely terrified. Oh sure, they were good shots and were becoming battle hardened, but nopony was meant to live their life trapped indoors.

With a shudder, I remembered Stable 221…

Being inside for the entirety their lives did things to ponies. I took a quick look at the robot that was helping them defend themselves from the raider ponies. It was a pretty standard wired robot, and if I was so inclined I could re-wire him. However, I couldn’t see any reason to do so and closed it up again. It wasn't like I could improve his weapons anymore.

I found the mattresses that Rusty had indicated and lay on them, letting my exhaustion carry me off to sleep. When I awoke, John was next to me, already awake, but clearly not for long.

“Don’t sleep much do you?” I asked.

“Never have since my training,” he responded.

John handed me a preverbal bucket of caps and a good share of ammo, and replacement parts for our guns. I set to work taking out parts that had rusted or been damaged in battle. To my disgust my zebra blade was quickly approaching the point of unusable. It was sad, given that I’d used it to slay a manitcore, but I parted with it for a few more caps.

I probably would never have found parts to repair it anyway…

I tried talking to a few of the ponies in the casino, but none of them were exactly chatty. Not that I could blame them. It was a little like Trottingham right before the battle. Even if they were experienced wasteland ponies, they weren’t soldiers. They didn’t spend every moment of their lives fighting. They were trying to make a life up here, not wars.

All set up, and several pounds lighter in equipment and heavier in ammo and caps, our little trio set out towards the huge building across the plaza.

“Wait!” called Rusty. “You lot ain’t actually thinking of heading into that place are ya?”

“Well yeah,” said John. “You just traded us all this pretty ammo. We should use it, I say. And I can’t really think of a better target than some raider ponies… Unless you’re hiding some of the Chrysalis Legion around here somewhere.”

I saw Rusty shake his head, either at John’s question or our foolishness. I briefly considered how different I was, even from the time I’d gotten into Trottingham. That had been… just a couple days ago…

Even then, I wouldn’t have burst into a building containing a hive of raider ponies. I pushed the thought aside. This was the right thing to do… wasn’t it? It was at least the best idea I had and neither John nor Lestride were objecting.

“Let’s go,” I said.

I head into the large double door entrance and kicked open the door. I saw the pony I’d terrorized and another pony talking immediately inside.

“Knock knock, bitches!” I yelled, making sure everypony heard me.

They both turned towards me and I saw fear flood their eyes as I punched S.A.T.S. Fear was good for us. Fear made ponies stupid. Fear meant we had the upper hoof.

I used the targeting spell to send two shots clear through both of their skulls. My little rifle rang out in the dark building.

Pop pop! Pop pop!

Dead. Dead.

I cast my night vision spell and nodded to John.

He moved forward, his twin rifles taking out another pony and Lestride and I ran forward, yelling in a harsh battle cry. Ponies continued to appear in front of us with each new room and with each new room, ponies died in front of us. We were a terrifying force, as if an evil wind carried us forward specifically to end their lives.

Boom! Boom!

Pop! Bang!

Boom! Boom boom!

Dead. Dead. Dead! DEAD!

I felt a strange elation take over me. I wanted to hurt these ponies. I wanted to end their lives. I wanted to destroy them… permanently. Despite myself, my brain-terminal brought up a passage from one of my history books in the stable.

During the Pony-Zebra War, many ponies and zebra alike became enraged to the point of bloodlust or blood thirst, meaning they had a desire to see blood shed… especially in battle.

So was this feeling bloodlust? Because if that’s what it was, the description had done a poor job of explaining it. I wanted… needed to see them hurt. I wanted to crush them underhoof. I needed to break bones, smash skulls and much more. I needed to make them hurt as bad as they’d hurt this city.

I put my guns away and went into a full gallop, sprinting at anything my EFS could show me.

Red, it’s dead.

That was the philosophy I stuck to when I started taking these ponies apart. I barely took in anything about them. What did it matter if they were experienced with sewing or blacksmithing? What mattered was that they were raider ponies, and I was justice… or at least vengeance incarnate.

Two ponies were in front of me. I noted, without effort, that their eyes were filled with fear. To them I was a large black shadow of death and dismemberment… Good.

I lashed out, feeling my hooves connected with blood and bone. I heard cries of pain and felt bones break under my attacks. I could taste the blood filling the area and splashed over me. My body knew what to do, using muscle memory to strike at the areas that would cause the utmost pain, even gelding the stallion.

Very soon two heaps of what were once ponies lay in front of me, begging me to just kill them. I wasn’t feeling merciful and moved on to the last room. My EFS helpfully informed me that there was only one enemy in the room, and they weren’t moving. I cast my night vision spell again and moved forward slowly.

Then I saw him.

He was a huge, hulking stallion, at least as tall as I was, and I’m one of the tallest from Stable 221. He had huge, bulky muscles and a jaw that any manticore would be envious of. He hadn’t seemed to notice we were in the room, or in fact that a battle was taking place at all. He was grunting and thrusting animatedly.

As I moved closer, my brain put two and two together. There wasn’t another pony in the room, but this sick fuck was busy pleasuring himself with I soon realized was the head of the female pony from the sheriff’s home. I felt a wave a disgust wash over me, and despite myself, I let fury take over my logic.

“You sick mother fucker!” I yelled out, finally getting the stallion’s attention.

“Oh hello,” he said, turning to me, still very aroused by his actions. “Some brand new ponies for me to skull fuck!”

“Sherclop, be careful,” John warned me. “I’ve seen this before and ponies like this don’t go down from a single shot. We’ll give you backup, but…”

“No,” I said simply. “I want him! I’m going to rip him limb from limb.”

“No way!” protested Lestride. “He’s huge! He’ll rip you in two.”

“I hate to agree with one of the NCE,” said John. “But no way, no how I’m letting you take this sicko on alone.”

“I need this. I need to beat him… for me.”

John looked me in the eye, and saw the fire in me. He knew no matter what, I wasn’t going to back down from this.

“You pass out, or even look like you’re in real trouble and I’m blowing his head off,” said the ex-captain reservedly.

“Good,” I said. “Lestride, find the deputy and get him out of here. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Lestride opened her muzzle to argue, but decided against it, and pulled out her rifle running past the large creature in the shape of a pony.

“So the skinny one wants to die first,” he said. “Fine with me. I was getting bored with this bitch anyway, but you… You look nice and tight!”

I felt an unpleasant shiver surge through my body. The thought of any stallion doing… that to me wasn’t an image I wanted on my mind terminal.

“After I kill you,” I said sourly. “I’m going to drain your body of every drop of blood. Then, I’m going to chop off your useless-ass limp dick and shove it down your throat. We’ll see if that shuts you up.”

I charged forward, my body ready to dodge whatever attack this idiot threw at me. What I didn’t expect was for him to cheat. I was sure that because of his size he would be a hoof-to-hoof expert, like me. Why wouldn’t he be? What I didn’t expect was for him to pull out a fucking flame thrower and take aim at me.

However, I was very quick and used my horn to telekinetically disconnect the fuel tank from the business end of the weapon. That bought me a few seconds as I took a vial of Dash. I felt the usual pleasant wave of intense thought flood through my system as I took aim with S.A.T.S. and fired my rifle.

Pop pop! Pop!

At this distance only one shot hit. To my surprise, the pony didn’t even flinch, even though I clearly saw the bullet penetrate his hide and muscle. He had his flamethrower back now and shot fire right at me. I desperately rolled to the left to avoid the fire and charged forward with my head lowered, intending to run this bastard through with my horn.

The great beast of a pony grabbed me by the horn and slammed my face into the ground. My bright blue hue enveloped my horn, and I gripped every single one of his teeth telekinetically before yanking them out of this mouth. He howled in pain and dropped me, and I fired twice more, both shots hitting the stallion. However, I wasn’t doing much damage. He had to be on some kind of drug enhancer. That was fine. I still had dash in me.

I yelled, sprinting forward, dodging the jet of flames smoothly. He howled at me and I punched him hard in his toothless mouth. He snarled and began to turn the flame thrower on me. I knew I didn’t have the telekinetic powers to overcome his muscle or break his weapon, so I kicked as hard as I could, hitting his rear knee joint.

The stallion buckled and I punched him hard in the face again. He screamed an unintelligible insult and I grabbed his tongue with my magic. I saw the fear fill his eyes and smiled. As the dash flooded me I leaned down.

“You’ve been a very rude pony. I don’t have any soap, so this will have to teach you a lesson.”

I pulled on the tongue, hard. Hard enough to break it free of the frenulum holding it to the bottom of his mouth, and a full foot of his tongue came from this throat onto the floor. He screamed in pain and blood spewed everywhere.

“Naughty, naughty,” I said, feeling a perverse pleasure in bringing this beast under my control. “You got me all dirty. Say you’re sorry.”

I heard him attempt to some sort of noise, but having the extra foot of tongue and no teeth made him unintelligible. I pulled out my revolver and emptied the clip into his big, fucking stupid brain. What a waste of a potentially good pony.

I reloaded my weapons and wiped some of the blood off myself before turning back to John. I saw him looking at me with concern.

“I haven’t seen you like that,” he said. “Are you ok?”

“I am.” I said, nodding solidly to show him I was still sane. “I hurt him, bad, because he hurt the other pony here. I believe justice is cold, and impartial. If you are worse than others, you get worse treatment. He was a horrible, and disgusting use of a pony, and he deserved what he got.”

John shook his head solemnly.

“Don’t forget who you are,” he said, looking me in the eye. “You’re a decent pony, Sherclop, and I’ve seen plenty of decent ponies give in to the wasteland. It changes you and makes you into something sick, and I don’t want to see that happen to you. If you have to fix what went wrong, I respect that, but don’t become worse that what we’re out here trying to stop.”

I pondered his words as Lestride came back, deputy Dull Bowie in tow.

Note: Level up!

Perk: Intense Training – You’ve been getting a good crash course in not dying! As a result, you get to put an extra point into one of your SPECIAL traits!

Chapter 11: Job Offer

We’re going to need a carefully thought out plan!

I’m coming Daring Do!

That’s not a plan!

Chapter 11: Job Offer

After my destruction of what had once been an enemy stallion, we agreed to search the place from top to bottom for anything that might be useful… At least Lestride, John and I agreed on one thing: The recently freed Dull Bowie was an absolute coward.

“I’m not fighting any more of those raiders,” he said. “I’ll meet you back outside!”

“Listen,” said John, irritated. “We didn’t free you just so you could run off like the little chicken shit your name implies!”

I’d never heard John shout like that. I made a memo in my mind-terminal to ask him about that later. Despite his reservations, Dull Bowie stayed with us and I gave him a lead pipe to defend himself. He looked uneasy at such a makeshift weapon, but I sure as hell wasn’t giving him a real gun.

Near the entrance we found a locked door. The lock on the door was some real high-quality stable-tech stuff and was miles beyond my skill to pick. However, the terminal that operated the door was something I could’ve hacked in my sleep and got it on my second guess.

I opened the door and walked in, revolver at the ready. Inside, there were a pack of Mint-als, which I hastily pocketed and a few health potions. There was also a safe, but sadly, I didn’t know enough to pick this lock either. A trip to what had once been a bookstore of some kind revealed another safe I couldn’t pick. I was beginning to regret my field of expertise.

However, there was also an old elevator that was out of order. Finally, this was something I could fix. After a few minutes of tinkering, I heard it roll down to our level and climbed inside motioning to the others to join me. It creakily rose up to the second floor and we exited. I kept one eye on my EFS the whole time, but it stayed blank. We saw a body lying on the floor, and to be safe I put a round in it.

There was no reaction and John examined it with his practiced eye.

“It’s been here for a long time, a few months at least.”

“What killed him?” I asked.

“Starvation or dehydration… some mixture of both most likely. There’s bound to be a few more bodies up here. There’s loads of defensive wounds on his forehooves, but nothing made by a weapon.”

“Noted. Let’s split up and search.”

I took the first room to the right, and didn’t regret it. There was a few small piles of ammo that matched my rifle and a pre-war hat. I put it on and smiled, knowing I must look ridiculous. There also also a sparkle-cola machine in the hallway. I opened it, knowing it must be empty. To my amazement, there were three carroty sodas inside. I tried to logic this out.

FACT: Ponies were trapped here then starved and dehydrated to the point of death.

FACT: This machine still had fresh soda in it, perfectly acceptable to drink.

POSSIBLITY: Someone filled this machine after their deaths… impossible. The elevator was broken and stairs are blocked off.

POSSIBLITY: The ponies didn’t think to check the machine… highly unlikely. It was already busted open when I got here. There’s no way these ponies dying of thirst wouldn’t check this for something to drink.

POSSIBLITY: The machines magically refill themselves…

Was that it? It wasn’t impossible as far as I knew, though I knew little about magic or enchanted objects.

RESULTS OF DEDUCTION: INCONCULSIVE…

I put the sodas in my saddlebags and went to meet up with John and Lestride. John handed me a vial of Dash, and I looked at him surprised.

“I don’t like your using it, but if it keeps you safe, I’ll deal with it.”

I now had three vials of the thought-enhancing drug and my small stash of Mint-als was still in healthy supply. Lestride either hadn’t found anything or wasn’t sharing what she did find with us. Not that it mattered to me; we’d already gotten plenty of good hull from this place. It was time to get the coward back to his post and finally do right be someponies in the wasteland.

When we brought Dull Bowie back to Philomena’s fire, we were ready for a wide verity of reactions. What we didn’t expect was a basic indifference.

“Shouldn’t they be ready to… I don’t know… start fixing things?” I asked as they continued patrolling the casino, ready for a fight.

“Look,” said Bowie slyly. “I appreciate y’all setting me free and whatnot, but it doesn’t really help until we get a new sheriff.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Afraid not. I’m no leader.”

“What are you exactly?” asked John, about as fed up with Bowie as I was.

“Look, I know you already did a lot for me…”

“Too right!” I interrupted.

“But if you all could help us find a new sheriff we could really get started here.”

I facehoofed, then took a deep breath.

“Alright,” I said. “You need a new sheriff. Got anypony in mind?”

“Well,” said Bowie, deep in thought. “It has to be someone adventurous, fierce, and undeniably, unquestionably, unstoppable… sort of like you, but more of a homebody. I suppose you could reprogram the robot over there if you wanted to, but I don’t much like the thought of a machine deciding justice.”

As giddy as I was at the thought of tinkering with a machine, my brain reminded me of the word justice. There was another pony I’d recently met who had a good idea of what justice should and shouldn’t be. I was just glad I’d already asked for his pardon.

“Hey John,” I said. “Think you could go the prison and ask Meyers if he wants to be the sheriff here?”

“You think that’s a good idea?” John asked.

“The NCE could always take over, and put them under martial law,” said Lestride.

“I bet you’d enjoy terrifying everyone,” hissed John. “Nevermind, I’ll go get the prison pony!”

I brought Lestride back to the camp and entered the Lieutenant’s tent. He sat behind his desk, and I saw his eyes light up with surprise when I entered. I could tell from his expression he hadn’t expected me back at all.

“Well,” I said, clearing my throat. “In short, not dead.”

“I… I can see… how did you…”

“The specifics are all in your sergeant’s report. However, given that I’m also getting Dodge Junction a sheriff I say you still owe me one.”

The lieutenant examined me for a long moment, and eventually handed me a small radio with a mouthpiece.

“I may not understand you Sherclop Pones, but I know one thing. Anyone who can clear out an entire town of raiders and a prison full of Dyno Doomponies is nopony I want to cross, and I’d like to keep you on our side in case we need you.”

“I’m not a real warrior,” I said. “John Trotson deserves that praise. However, I am a detective pony. I dig and dig until I get answers. You have a mystery on your hooves, give me a call. I’m more suited to that type of work.”

“Very well, how about this then? There’s a town to the west of here called Neighton. I won’t pretend to know exactly what’s going on there, but they’ve had an unusual number of feral ghoul ponies showing up at their factory. I don’t know how exciting it’ll be for you, but it’d certainly help them out quite a lot.”

I shivered. The idea of attacking ghoul ponies didn’t sit well with me. They reminded me too much of mother… However, this was a brand new business arrangement and it was best I didn’t mess it up by refusing my very first case. I saluted the stallion and smiled.

“In return,” I said. “I want to know that if I do take on more than I can chew in a fight, I can count on some NCE backup.”

The lieutenant eyed me again, as if weighing my worth.

“Fair enough, but don’t go abusing it. We don’t hand these radios out in the usual gift basket.”

I nodded. I may not be a great bartering pony, but I sure as hell knew when I was important to a faction of ponies. I spied the mattress in the corner of the tent and asked for permission to sleep until John got back. Thankfully, the stallion agreed and I got some rest.

Several hours later, I was awoken by John, smiling down at me.

“Well Dodge Junction has their new sheriff,” he said. “Well done detective!”

I couldn’t tell for sure if John was being sincere or if he was mocking me for my namesake. I decided it was a compliment either way and saddled myself up, putting my coat and hat on to combat the cold. I asked John if he wanted to sleep while I kept watch.

“Already did when I got back,” he said. “You were out almost all day!”

I didn’t realize how tired I must’ve been.

“Thanks for letting me sleep,” I said. “We have an actual case down in Neighton if you want to check it out.”

“Sure thing, what’s it about?”

“Several feral ghoul ponies are showing up outside a factory near there.”

John stopped and looked at me curiously.

“You don’t like ghouls?” he asked.

I was a bit shocked. I had made an effort to keep my voice neutral, but apparently it hadn’t mattered. John could read me a lot better than most.

“I… It’s complicated.”

“Walk and talk,” he said, nodding at a couple of the NCE who were nearby.

We began trudging through the wasteland in the direction my pipbuck indicated.

“You remember how my father and I fight?”

“Very well.”

“Well, he blames me for my mom’s death… and he’s indirectly right. I wasn’t born in the stable… neither was my sister, Myclop. We were surface ponies, but I was too young to recall anything. Just after my mother gave birth to me, we were attacked…”

John looked at me wearily.

“By ghouls?” he asked.

“A glowing ghoul pony, according to the death report. They emit radiation, right?”

“Yeah.”

“After I was born, my mother was in no condition to run, and my father had to choose between carrying her or carrying me. I was small, lighter and I couldn’t run or defend myself. Father made the logical choice and carried me into the stable. He saved my life that day.”

“But your mother died…”

“Exactly. I’ve never really… gotten over that. It was because of me, even if it wasn’t my fault. Father never got over it at all, hence the attacks. We reached the stable in time to hide inside, but mother… she never would’ve made it, and he got to watch her die fighting off the ghoul as best she could while we were being brought into the stable. I can’t imagine much worse.”

John bowed his head softly.

“We… we don’t have to take this one. I wouldn’t make you deal with ghouls because of that.”

I shook my head.

“I think I can keep my head straight. After all, it wouldn’t look good to the NCE if the first case we take is one I end up turning down because of a hang-up.”

“Alright, but if you can’t take it, and I mean that, promise me you’ll turn around and stop.”

“I promise.”

“Good. You’re my best friend, Sherclop, and I’d hate to lose you because of your stupidity.”

That made me laugh. John had a bluntness about him that was honest and humorous in the same blow. I thought about what else he’d said too. I was his friend…

I’d never had friends before, certainly not in Myclop’s stable. Yet here was this ex-captain military medic who considered me worthy of being his friend, even though we’d really only met a few days ago. Honestly, he was more of an enigma to me than anypony else I’d met up here. Why he wanted me as a friend baffled me, but for my part, I considered him a friend.

“You’re my friend too,” was all I said.

He smiled at me and we continued on our path west, towards our first real case together.

Chapter 12: Fool Me Once

Secrets and lies! It’s all secrets and lies with those ponies!

Chapter 12: Fool Me Once

Our trip towards Neighton wasn’t very eventful the first day. There were a few shacks we passed, and a radgator we cooked for our dinner. As day gave way to the darkness of night, I took first watch and cast my night vision spell. We hadn’t come across a real threat since Dodge Junction, and that made me uneasy.

The wasteland didn’t let us go so easily, I could almost feel it planning another attempt on our lives, and the thought made me suspicious of even the smallest breeze. Roughly near midnight, my EFS flashed a friendly signal approaching. I turned my rifle on the newcomer, waiting until I knew there was any danger before waking John.

“Woah there!” said the dark brown mare, fear showing in her face. “I don’t mean you no harm, but I need help! My daughter is trapped by a bunch of radgators up the road only a little way!”

I considered calling the mare out on her claim, but it was too dark for me to make much logical deduction or read her body language clearly. I glanced at John and saw him deep asleep in the world of pleasant dreams.

“Ok,” I said to her. “Back me up and I’ll help you.”

The mare nodded and led the way to a large nest radgators. There weren’t an extreme number of them, but it was far more than I’d faced before… Ten or so at the high end. I sighed and took aim. I picked out my target, lining up with the closest gator. I held my breath, just a John taught me.

Pop pop!

Dead. Stupid animal. My shots alerted the rest and I calmly took aim again.

Pop! Pop pop! Pop!

Dead. Dead. Reload.

Pop pop!

The next was too close for me to aim properly so I hit S.A.T.S. and triggered two shots to the beast’s head. Dead. Five down, five to go. The dark mare finally had decided to help out and shot down one herself.

A barrage of bullets rained down from our little outcropping and one-by-one radgators fell dead. I looked down carefully and realized instantly what was wrong here…

There was no daughter… no captive. The mare had crossed me. Of course, I would’ve loved to turn at this moment and hit her, but I felt the barrel of her gun press against my head at that moment.

“Drop it!” she snarled in a tone quiet different from before.

I did as she said and used the excuse to tap S.A.T.S. on my pipbuck again. The stupid mare had been just so kind as to let me know exactly where her revolver was by pressing it against my head. I used that knowledge to trigger an attack at the weapon. I released the spell and the gun was sent skidding across the dirt. She watched it leave in terror and then I did punch her, hard.

Blood splattered and I attacked again, and again, and again until I was quite sure that once had been a pony was a useless collection of brain matter. I shook myself… Honestly, if she’d just been willing to ask I would’ve given her what I had to spare, but it seemed that honesty was a virtue long devoid of the wasteland…

I searched the mare for anything I could use until I came across a very odd potion. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it and I’d certainly never seen anything about one of these in my history books. Cautiously, I had my pipbuck examine it.

Memory potion…

Well that wasn’t very specific. Memory potion? My memory was already perfect, what more memory did I need?

I knew it wasn’t smart to do, but dammit all to hell, I wanted to see exactly what this potion did. I could find only one way to do that. I took a gulp of the strange white liquid, and the world around me shimmered and vanished. At first, I was terribly afraid, but then I slowly felt the world come back to me… but something was wrong.

I was me, I was quite sure of that. I had all my memories and understanding of the world that I had always held. However, something was different. I was just as I always had been, but I was missing the all-too-familiar feeling of a pipbuck on my left foreleg. In fact, I didn’t have any gear at all.

The ground beneath me was different too. It was… fuller, more complete. We didn’t have ground like this anywhere in the wasteland as far as I’d seen. The ground there was mostly broken up dirt, that had long ago lost of it’s ability to bear plants and trees. This ground was lush, and hungry. For a long while, I couldn’t tear myself away from it.

When I finally did look up at the world around me, I saw battle had flooded this area. Gunshots and explosions were everywhere. Ponies and zebras alike where yelling and killing each other. This wasn’t like the fights I’d had in the wasteland. These creatures weren’t desperately clinging to life while destroying each other because it was what they had to do.

This wasn’t a fight to make sense of the world. These ponies and zebra had purpose and anger atop years of hatred fueling them. I knew of course, that I wasn’t witnessing this as a real event. This was no doubt a memory I was being forced to relive due to the potion, but despite myself I couldn’t help being curious.

The books I had read never properly explained war. They didn’t show me any pictures of half-mangled zebras holding their brethren as the last breath of air lift their bodies. I hadn’t read testimony from ponies who were covered in the blood and guts of their friends and family. I’d never really seen anypony hate and fight like these ones did.

I had been angry before, sure. I’d even killed… quite a lot actually. But I wasn’t a solider. I never had been and I likely never would be. I trotted calmly through the embodiment of death and destruction that surrounded me, looking from zebra to zebra and pony to pony. I saw pain… death… hate… regret… many things ponies were never taught to deal with.

I saw several of them psychologically break under the pressure of battle and either freeze up, rush headfirst into battle, or just take their sidearm and shoot themselves in the head. Then I saw her.

I’d only seen her picture in a few books, and they’d failed to truly capture the regal appearance she bore. Oh sure, her mane was covered in dirt and her white coat bore injury and was covered in blood, but there was no other mare like Princess Celestia. I could see her clearly now, as she stared at the ponies she loved and once raised in peace, dying by the dozens around her.

Her light purple eyes had tears in them as she struggled to think of a way to end this bloodshed. I knew better, but only because I was from a time where all of this was like a ghost story. If I thought she’d hear me, I’d have tried to comfort the princess then. All testimonies praised the white coated mare for her clear thinking and efforts towards peace.

None of them mentioned the true horror the war imposed on Celestia, and looking at her now, I could see the self-loathing in them. I knew the look because I’d seen it in my own reflection whenever I drank from a water source. I felt so sorry for the princess, and finally allowed the feeling to pass. None of my pity could help her now.

I looked in front of the beautiful mare and saw a bright red stallion in a sergeant’s battle armor.

I didn’t know him from any picture in the books, and I found I was a bit disappointed. This was a true solider. He wasn’t a battle-obsessed killer, but somepony who really believed in the cause he was fighting for.

Idiot.

I watched as he defended the princess from several zebra attempting to kidnap her, and I admit, I was impressed. For having no weapon on him at the time, this stallion didn’t seem to be suffering much. He didn’t fight like a madman as I did when frenzied. He kept a clear head and picked precise targets. I studied him as he fought, making sure my mind took in every bit of his style and discipline.

I would’ve followed that stallion into battle myself.

Suddenly, he spoke, and I realized he must’ve had a headset, and that I couldn’t hear half of the conversation he was having.

“Anope!” he said, solidly. “Our mission is to protect Princess Celestia, understand?”

I looked into his brave solider face, and the fierce gaze in his green eyes, and I realized in a moment that I did know this pony, though I hadn’t even seen him in a photo before. This was Big Macintosh… the martyr of the war effort. That meant this… oh shit… This was the moment when he died protecting the princess from a zebra sniper pony.

“I know you won’t Psalm,” he said. “I know you’re a good pony.”

My brain-terminal scanned the name Psalm in connection with Big Macintosh, but returned with nothing. I looked at Big Macintosh as he as he smiled up at whoever Psalm was, and I saw the pride mixed with trust in his face, right as his chest was split open by the bullet.

Interesting thing about a shot to the heart. There’s an infinitely small moment where the pony that gets shot is actually still alive, until the blood stops flowing through the brain and they properly die. I could see clearly the look on Big Macintosh’s face. He no longer looked happy or proud of his friend.

There was just a dull shock across his features. A simple look that said there was no possible way he could actually be dying. Then, it was over. His brain stopped receiving the blood and oxygen it needed to go on, and the open eyes in his skull became devoid of life.

I stared at him for a full second before my investigative instincts too over. I took a quick moment to judge where he would’ve been shot from, based on how he’d been standing and where the bullet had hit him. I had known this would be the case, but I was still a little shocked when I looked up on the outcropping and saw a pony sniper lying there with a stunned look on her face. Tears streamed down her face as she was trying to take aim at Celestia, and was readying herself to kill again.

Boom!

I saw an explosion of rainbows as the leader of the Ministry of Awesome and her shadow bolts arrived. She was a rainbow-streaked shadow of death and any zebra that stood in front of her died, quickly and completely. The battle resumed as the world slowly blacked out, and I felt I was being pulled back into the wasteland, despite my desire to see more of what happened.

I felt the wasteland reappear under my hooves as John was shaking me softly. I blinked twice, trying to clear my vision of tears. They were stupid. After all, everything I’d just seen was decades, centuries old maybe. It wasn’t like I could undo anything from then or help those ponies anymore… So why was it still affecting me?

Perhaps I was unable to overcome my baser instincts in spite of myself. After all, I think most normal ponies would’ve been disheartened at what I witnessed and knew. Maybe I was closer to them than I’d thought for my life…

“What in the hell were you thinking?!” asked John out of concern.

It took several minutes, but I explained why I’d left him at the tent and what I’d seen from the memory potion. John was frustrated at having been left behind more than anything else, but he soon calmed down. That was a good thing about him, he never stayed mad… at least not long.

“It’s your turn to get some rest,” he said. “You look like you could use it.”

I nodded and collapsed into my little bedroll, quickly falling asleep. I spent the whole night dreaming of a battle between ponies and zebra. Stupid ponies and stupid zebras who were all too full of hate to understand that there was no reason for them to really be fighting at all.

Note: New Perk!

Big Mac Approved! – Your memory and appreciation for hoof to hoof combat was shared by a big red sergeant from the past. After studying him, your chances of getting a critical strike in unarmed combat is 20% higher… or 20% cooler if you will.

Chapter 13: Neighton

Is it… Zombies?

Uh… not very likely.

Not likely, but possible?

Chapter 13: Neighton

I took us another day to reach the small missile factory outside of Neighton. There was no denying this place gave me the creeps. Something about it told me that regular ponies hadn’t set foot here for a long time… maybe too long a time. However, my clients were paying for me to check this place out…

Well, not actually paying, but it wasn’t like I was really in this shit for the caps. Besides, there was always plenty of gear around when we went adventuring and it was sure to bring in plenty of caps to pay us for the ammo and effort we were using to do this.

Only a few feet into the yard my EFS flashed three red blips.

Ok, I told myself. Ok, so you’re about to see ghoul ponies. These ponies are not sentient, thinking ponies. They are beasts. Put them down like beasts.

I leapt over the ledge of the hill and took aim at the first thing I saw that was moving.

Bang Bang!

My pistol tore one ghoul pony’s head apart. I smiled and hit S.A.T.S. and took aim again. This was natural. This was battle, and maybe a lot a bit of vengeance. I placed a headshot and both of the remaining ghouls and released the spell.

Bang!

Dead. Dead.

I moved forward, looking over my kills, and I saw several shapes moving forward into the main yard of the building. My EFS showed far more red blips out here. I told John to take to the air, and he nodded, readying Cloudchaser and Flitter before taking off. I felt a cool rush of air blow my mane off my forehead for a moment, and sprinted into battle.

Bang! Bang Bang!

Punch in the face: Broken skull. Reload and shoot again!

Bang!

For every ghoul that I could find, I created another body, and spilled more blood. This was different now though. I wanted to hurt these creatures more than I’d ever wanted to kill somepony, even the dyno doomponies hadn’t pissed me off this much. Oh sure, terminal that was my brain was busy pointing out I was this mad at ghouls because of unresolved mother issues, but the war-pony in me didn’t give a damn!

“FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!” I screamed, getting the attention of as many as possible.

Of it’s own accord, my pipbuck picked up a radio station I’d never seen before. After all, I’d never touched the radio since it had talked to me about Littlepip’s orgasms. It wasn’t a tune I’d ever heard before, or that I would likely ever hear again. However, something in the music stirred in me, and it was as if a part of me awoke and took over my entire body. At that moment the music swept through me and despite any and all forms of logic, I began singing.

Here at this once-great factory (La la la la la) Outside Neighton, and buried deep
Ghouls are out here and they’re just so unappealing!
Any stable pony should cross their hooves before entering!

The ghouls have a hint of bloodlust and maybe just a dash of genocide.
As I wipe them all away right before your very la la la la, eyes!

Reloading the chambers, come on!
Oh you terrible, abominations of ponies!
Come on! Oh you’re terrible imitations of real ponies!

I had the attention of the entire yard now, shooting and singing wildly. Not that I cared much.

All your victims range from mothers and fouls,
Slaughtering them helplessly, causing such depravity!
I’m revenge incarnate, I’m here to destroy you
Scream all you want, there’s nothing you can do
But die and crumble as my bullets all go through
Horrible abominations of ponies!

I could vaguely hear John yelling at me to shut up as I punched another ghoul’s face in until I heard bones snap.

And, not to mention,
The horrible smell and the drooling you all do now,
As I stand before you
Well, get over it, because I don’t give a shit.

Well only minutes ago, after we showed up,
I bet you thought, you’d get a nice game
But then the bullets went bang! Yes, the bullets go bang!

As I said this, I emptied my clip into one ghoul, and reloaded quickly, still singing.

Between your skull and your brain
And now you’re writhing in pain!
And it’s a game of a different kind!

Reloading the chambers, come on!
Oh you terrible, abominations of ponies!
Come on! Oh you’re terrible imitations of real ponies!

There are just,
Skulls, death, all blood and gore and no chance to hurt anypony no more!
Pipbuck says red, my conscious says dead, as I put a bullet through your head.

Skulls, death, all blood and gore and no chance to hurt anypony no more!
Pipbuck says red, my conscious says dead, as I put a bullet through your head.

Come on! Oh you’re terrible imitations of real ponies!
Come on! Oh you’re terrible imitations of real ponies!

I could hear John screaming at me and could feel how little I cared about what ghoul bastard fucker heard me.

Skulls, death, all blood and gore and no chance to hurt anypony no more!
Pipbuck says red, my conscious says dead, as I put a bullet through your head.

My song ended softly and I suddenly felt very awkward about having broken into a song I had not planned and certainly never heard before. I could vaguely make out John, hovering in the air and quickly picking ghoul ponies off without fear, since he was so far out of reach.

There weren’t many ghouls left in the yard now, and hunting them down was simple enough. John landed in front of me and did a quick sweep of the yard before he spoke again.

“And just what in the hay was that?” he demanded.

“The power of music?” I suggested lamely.

“Whatever it was, it was SO AWESOME,” he said, smiling brightly, before adding. “But don’t ever do it again. Seriously, it’s enough trouble keeping you alive without you egging on ghoul ponies.”

I nodded and did a slow scan of the yard. There were several ghoul bodies, and I noticed several I hadn’t killed. They were crushed by creature that was easily much, much taller than they were. Whatever it was killed through blunt force, and a huge amount. Any well-placed blow with that much force could kill a pony, and ghouls were already rotting from the inside out.

I did a quick mental scan of my terminal for any creatures capable of such force and got a few results, but nothing I would be able to confirm without more data. Deciding we really had not more choice, I opened the door to the factory. Before I could look around an intercom sparked to life just to my left.

“Hey there clean-coats, you may want to stop quarreling and run. Take the staircase up to the east!”

“Why would I… FUCKING SHIT!”

I’d not even finished asking when something attacked me out of the blackness. I’d never seen anything like it before and I wasn’t truly seeing it now, not with all the darkness around me.

Always check EFS! I thought at myself angrily. Always, always check EFS!

Sure enough, my pipbuck flashed several red dots surrounding us. At least I knew what had driven the ghoul ponies out of the factory now. Whatever this thing was attacking us, it was none too keen on pony-shaped lifeforms. At least I knew I was on the right track to figuring out what had killed the ghouls.

I used S.A.T.S. but still couldn’t clearly see the creature and the pipbuck displayed a 0% chance to hit.

“OH FUCK YOU!” I shouted at it. “YOU CLEARLY CAN TELL IT’S HERE AND A THREAT!”

I kicked out wildly, and actually felt my hoof connect with the creature, but I had no time to see if I’d stymied it. I ran up the staircase the voice on the intercom had boasted about, and hammered on the door.

“Open up!” said John, a little more frantic than I was. “Open up! Open up! Open up open up open up!”

The door was flung wide and we dashed inside, firing wildly over our shoulders as we landed past whoever, or whatever had let us inside the saferoom. I still didn’t really believe that they were still alive, but just in case, I thanked Celestia and Luna that we were safe.

“Thank you!” gasped John. “My name’s John Trotson, captain of the Pegasai Enclave, and this is my friend, Detective Sherclop Pones!”

I raised and quizzical eyebrow at the addition of the word “detective.” I’d never said it, but there wasn’t time to ask about it right now.

“Name’s Chester. Man you are ugly.”

We turned to see a light blue colored pony with red eyes and a labcoat staring at us through a dimly lit hall.

“Well, as you’re such as handsome pony,” I said, breathing easier. “Why don’t you tell us why you saved us.”

“Don’t take it personally,” he growled at us in an unnaturally grainy voice. “All you clean-coats are ugly to us.”

“Clean-coats?”

“It’s a term ghoul ponies use for those of us who haven’t been effected radiation,” said John, hinting that I should play along.

Sadly, I wasn’t in the mood.

“You’re not a ghoul pony…”

I knew it wasn’t a smart thing to say to our savior, but I’m not known for my charisma.

“Shove it, clean-coat!” he said. “Your tricks won’t work on me. If I had my choice, I’d have left you to the demons, but Jason and the others took a vote that you could be trusted. Why, I’ll never know…”

“Now now,” said a voice from the stairwell. “Do not be so hard on our guests, Chester.”

I turned and pulled out my revolver out of instinct. In front of me was a glowing ghoul pony. Two fractions of my mind fought each other furiously. On one hoof, this was a ghoul pony, and I’d just fought a legion of them outside.

The little pony in my brain was furiously shouting that this ghoul was not attacking me, and was in fact calling me a guest.

The trigger-happy side of me got ready to fire while the little pony shouted at me.

“Sherclop!” said John harshly, lowing my gun with his wing. “Don’t! He’s not like the others.”

I nodded, lowing the gun, but keeping it ready to use at a split-second’s need. I knew, regardless of my anger, that John was right.

“I am sorry about this Sherclop Pones,” said the glowing ghoul pony. “I understand why you are so distrustful of me and my kind. You haven’t had a good experience with us.”

His voice was soft, and kind unlike the others. Nevertheless I wasn’t relaxed.

“I’ve had plenty of experience with ghouls!” I growled. “Just ask the lot outside!”

“With feral ghouls yes. I know all about what happened to your father and sister… You too, if truth be told. Honestly, I wouldn’t have wished that fate upon your mother… She’s a good pony.”

That did it. That wiped my mind terminal and I saw red. Forget the revolver! I didn’t need that toy!

I charged and swung hard, only to feel something yank on my tail and plop me flat on my stomach. I looked back and saw John, his face stern.

“You don’t get to talk about her that way!” I barked. “You don’t deserve to!”

“Sherclop’s a bit out of line,” said John. “But I have to admit, that’s baiting him a bit, don’t you think?”

The glowing ghoul pony looked at us, with slight confusion on his face.

“Sherclop?” said a new voice, slightly grainy and used, but curious. “Is that you?”

I turned to the voice, my mind telling me it belonged to a mare instead of the stallion. In front of me was a mare I’d seen only one picture of. Even if I didn’t have a perfect memory, I would’ve known her from that photo.

She hadn’t been a ghoul then, but there wasn’t any mistaking her. She still had a chocolate-colored mane that matched my own. She still had my light-grey eyes, and Myclop’s pure white coat, though it was now dirty and used from the radiation.

“M-mom?!”

My mind went blank again. Surely I was imagining this. My mind was projecting a fantasy I wanted to see. I’d somehow take just one drop of the memory potion and it was affecting my brain, or it’d broken and seeped in through my coat.

“Oh Sherclop! It is you!” said the ghoul-mare, giving me a very squishy and unpleasant hug. “I… I cannot believe it! Look at you, all grown up!”

“M-Mom?!”

My stupid mouth was apparently stuck on repeat. I wanted to ask so many different things.

Is that really you? How did you survive? I love you! I missed you!

The list went on and on but all I could do was stare.

“Such a handsome stallion!” she said, cooing over me in her grainy voice. “I knew you always would be. What about your sister and father? Are they here too? Oh, I have so many questions to ask you!”

I broke down, and hugged her back, regardless of how squishy a ghoul pony she was.

“I love you mom.”

Note: Level up!

Perk:
Gunslinger – Your abuse of S.A.T.S. and pistols had improved your accuracy with pistols by 20% when using the targeting spell with one-handed guns.

Chapter 14: I'll Be Mother

Mom! I need you and dad and the sisters to come in. Quick!

Chapter 14: I’ll Be Mother

“Myclop and father are still in the stable. I left due to… extenuating circumstances.”

Mother eyed me carefully.

“What kind of circumstances?” she asked.

There was a genetic component to our intellect after all.

“Myclop was… Your daughter is a psychopath… No… that’s not fair. She had an idea to prepare the stable for this place, so maybe they could build a city.”

“I see, but there’s so much fighting up here… all the time. Surely, they’d be safer in the stable?”

“They would be but before another generation or two, inbreeding was going to take over and we wouldn’t be able to have any more foals.”

“Ah, I see. I take it you objected to Myclop’s plan then?”

“I might’ve, if I’d known anything about it. I was looking into another issue. A young pony, Redbook, had vanished and taken off his pipbuck, so I couldn’t track him with mine. I followed him and found a secret room Myclop had been building a small robot army in. If I faced them now they’d be pushovers.”

“But you weren’t used to fighting.”

“None of us were. As I say, the plan wasn’t a bad one, not truly. However, Redbook didn’t have any help for an hour or so before I found him and I couldn’t save him… He died while I tried to get him out of that place.”

“And that’s when you and Myclop faught… I see, well I never wanted you or your sister to have to see me like this…”

I stared at her, and found the response was automatic.

“You’re beautiful, mom.”

She smiled at me, the knowing look in her eyes.

“Such a good boy Sherclop. If that solider over there is any indication, I can see you do alright in friends.”

“That’s John,” I said. “He’s probably my only friend, but he’s a good one. He’s hearty, strong, and a fair bit more settled emotionally than I am. He saved my life.”

“Well then,” she said, as John came trotting over to us. “It appears I am in your debt for saving my son’s life, captain.”

“Ex-captain,” John said, his ever-present smile intact.

I looked at them, their happiness… and it infected me. We spent hours just talking, so long that I’d almost forgotten what had brought us here in the first place… almost.

“Now that you’re here, Sherclop,” said Jason, apparently having waited long enough. “Will you help us complete our great journey?”

“Mom? What’s the great journey?”

My mother whispered in my ear, so that I could hear without Jason listening in.

“It’s something Jason came up with. He believes we can ascend to some type of holy land using the missiles here. Honestly, I’m not all that keen on it, but traveling with a pack of my own kind was a better idea than moving on my own.”

I nodded.

“I owe you for keeping my mother safe,” I said. “So yes, I’ll help you.”

Jason smiled brightly at my words.

“Once again, Princess Celestia sends us a pony to assist us in our great travels! Is she not merciful?”

“Not particularly,” I hissed under my breath, and turned to Jason directly. “Speaking of ponies. What’s the deal with Chester? Does he think he’s a ghoul pony?”

“Oh yes. It is most unfortunate that he is stuck in such a delusion. I would not wish it upon him, but it is Celestia’s desire.”

I shook my head. I may not believe in the goddesses, but everything I knew about the princess suggested that she would never have wanted anypony duped or deluded into helping any cause. However, I knew I wasn’t going to convince anypony here of what I knew was right.

“Alright, what do you need me to do?”

“Those beings who attacked you on your way in, they’re hauled up in the basement. I have to ask you to clear them out. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t vital for our journey.”

“Starting to feel more like a clean-up pony than a detective,” I said, sighing. “Oh well. John, you good to head out?”

My friend trotted over, nodded eagerly. I couldn’t help but smile at his simple approach to life. It was as if he needed to analyze nothing. He just chose to take everything in stride and let his heart make judgments. I envied that. After all, his heart told him to trust my lead, and he did… I couldn’t ever just follow somepony without question.

I had to think, to question, to analyze. It was who I was. To my shock, my mother insisted on joining us. I opened my muzzle to protest.

“Don’t you even start,” she warned me. “I’ve been away from my boy for years… for a lot of years. I’m not getting away from you unless I have no other choice.”

“But I… Alright, but if I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you run, you run. Ok?”

She eyed me for a while and John finally chimed in.

“Sherclop and I are both good fighters and he’s quick on his hooves, but we’re not good enough to have to keep an eye on somepony as well. If he says to hide, it’s for your safety as much as his.”

Mother nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief.

We opened the entrance door back up, and I immediately checked EFS. It was blank. Whatever had struck me before wasn’t here anymore. We carefully moved down the staircase and into the basement and I felt an odd sensation of familiarity wash over me. For all the dark, small and linear hallways this was the first time I’d felt like I could’ve been in Stable 221 again… or at least in its catwalks.

We rounded the nearest corner and I saw it opened into a large room. Behind the desk, my attention was immediately drawn to a huge hulking creature who sat behind the desk. Its body was black, outlined by my night vision spell. It’s eyes were green and sunken. I expected it would charge me the second we entered, but instead it didn’t.

“Hello there, pony.”

Its voice was rougher than I expected, and suddenly my brain terminal flashed up a name for these creatures. The book I’d read about Canterlot hadn’t covered them in any great detail, but I was pretty sure about what these things were, and why the ghouls had been having so much trouble with them.

“Hello, changeling,” I said. “My name is Sherclop Pones.”

“We know who you are. Our queen has told us you would be coming here for months now.”

“Your queen was… Chrysalis, yes? I’ve met some of her legion that reside around these parts.”

“Ah yes, the ponies that are true to our cause. I take it you are not among their ranks?”

“I am not,” I said.

Honestly, I was a bit scared. After all, I was talking to something that was much larger, faster and stronger than I was, but I was determined not to show it my fear.

“What to do with it, hm… Antler! What does I do with it?”

The changeling ranted to himself for a short bit, and I felt very uneasy. Mother leaned over and whispered to me.

“He’s talking to that skull?”

I looked and sure enough, there was a skull sitting on a stack of books. Whatever poor creature had died years ago certainly wasn’t speaking to us.

“Antler is wise!” said the changeling. “Antler says you can help us!”

“You’re taking instructions from a skull!” I said, in spite of myself.

The changeling roared horribly.

“Careful pony! We shall not warn you again!”

“Oh, I see,” I said. “So then you really care about… Antler?”

John hissed at me.

“Maybe we don’t piss off this guy!” he said, but I wasn’t listening.

“Antler leads us! Stupid pony!”

Stupid pony… Yeah, that did it.

“I see,” I said, taking out my pistol. “So if were to… Oh I don’t know… do this…”

I shot Antler… and for a long time afterwards, I would regret doing that. The changeling gave out an awful war-call and charged. I got two shots off before he reached me. Both hit, but didn’t even faze him. However, now he was in hoof-to-hoof range and nopony can beat me like that.

Smack!

He broke my guard so hard I felt bones break. I was forced to remind myself this was no pony! I found the ground again when my body hit it and a skid several feet. I found which leg he’d broken and stumbled to my feet. John and mother alike were taking potshots at this beast of a battle, but it was as if they didn’t affect him at all.

“Take this!” I shouted, pulling out a shotgun and taking aim.

Right as I hit S.A.T.S. he turned invisible. Again, my pipbuck registered him, and again it showed a 0% chance to hit. Despite being in the adrenaline induced state that S.A.T.S. implements, I could hear his voice, or his thoughts, as he spoke to me.

“Your puny toys and tricks don’t work here pony!”

I snarled and canceled the spell, manually shooting the gun.

Blam!

I missed… badly. I’d forgotten to hold my breath and take proper aim and merely fired out of panic.

Stupid, I berated myself. Stupid, stupid pony!

I took proper aim and held my breath, taking aim and firing again.

Blam!

This time, my blow hit, and his head was sent sprawling in several different directions. I breathed a loud sigh of relief before resting on my hunches to give my broken leg a rest.

“Sherclop!” shouted mother, running towards me with her horn glowing.

I took the moment to note how calming the green glow of her horn was. She cast what must’ve been a healing spell on me and my leg mended itself. A pleasant calm washed through my mind and I shook myself to try and clear it as I straightened myself.

I’d just discovered something important… but I couldn’t remember what it was… Why was that? I couldn’t remember…. It was very important. Something to do with fighting the changelings…

“My head’s gone all fuzzy…” I said blankly.

“It’s an effects of changeling blood,” mother explained. “It dulls the thought process.”

“Yeah… wait… no… I never read that in my… books…”

“It’s one of the effects of the megaspells. They tainted everything up here… Are you ok?”

I shook myself slightly. That didn’t seem quite right to me, but very little did right now. They didn’t used to be able to go invisible either. But this… this was… what was what now?

“We have to move!” John said, looking around. “It’s dark here and no doubt the rest of those things heard that scuffle.”

Oh yeah… there were more out there… why hadn’t I thought of that? And why did John think it was dark? It wasn’t dark… Green maybe, but not dark… Oh right, I have night vision… My brain was really fuzzy. I decided to take a Mint-al and that helped clear my head some, but not completely.

Right as I finished swallowing the little tablet, another creature slithered in through the doorway. I took aim with the shotgun, but found I was staring at John… wait, no another John.

Two Johns? Good. I had two good teammates now… Wait, no that wasn’t possible. Clearly the mint-als weren’t helping much.

“But I don’t…” I started.

Bang bang!

The first John who had come in the room with us blasted the second one’s brain to smithereens. I shook myself, confused.

“They’re changelings, remember? They can change shape to look like one of us.”

“But how can we tell who’s who?” I asked slowly.

John pondered this for a long moment, then took out a small knife and nicked himself, mother, and I across the face. It was a shallow cut, but enough that I could see the fresh blood.

“Fight any of them that look like yourself and use your pipbuck’s EFS. Other than that just rely on those cuts to tell us apart.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, realizing something I should’ve remembered ages ago. “John I got… Give me your hoof for a moment.”

I took Redbook’s old pipbuck out of my saddlebags and placed it carefully around his forehoof. John blinked in surprise.

“Where did you get this? Woah! That’s… insane.”

“What?!” I asked, spinning around searching for a new foe.

“No, it’s the interface… It’s different… Is this what you see all the time?

“Yeah,” I responded. “It takes a little getting used to, but right now… the EPS… EFS will help you out… Just don’t use the S.H.I.T.S. Wait… I mean S.A.T.S.”

“What’s that?”

“It stands for… something acquired… It’s an aiming spell. Makes it seem like time stops for you and aims for you. You aim better than it, but the sorting and tracking will be good for you. It’s really scary at first. I can teach you to use it when we… aren’t… When we’re out.”

“Sherclop?” asked mother, “Maybe you should rest for a bit.”

“Watch out!” shouted John and I heard both Cloudchaser and Flitter go off.

Chapter 15: Times are Changeling!

A true, true friend helps a friend in need.

Chapter 15: Times are Changeling

Blam!

Bang!

Slam!

Boom!

Smack!

“Fuck you, changelings!” John shouted, shooting as best he could in the dark. “Can’t even see down here!”

“Oh yeah!” I shouted. “Your pipbuck has a light!”

“Seriously!” John shouted, frustrated. “Would’ve been great to know that a long time ago!”

Why didn’t I think of that earlier? Why wasn’t I doing that from the start instead of using my spell? Changeling blood was something really bad…

Blam!

However, It was clear that we were beating the changelings. It was slow going, but we were winning. However, when we rounded the corner, I saw a ghoul pony sitting high up in a small sniper’s nest: gun aimed right at us.

“Alright!” he hissed. “Come and get it you ugly… wait… You’re no changelings. Wait… is that you…”

Bang!

I turned and saw mom levitating my rifle back into my saddlebags.

“Mom? Why did you…”

“Nopony threatens my baby and gets away with it,” she said, fussing over me and healing any injury she found.

I have to say I much preferred John’s method of healthcare. Honestly, I couldn’t even recall what injury I’d just taken, other than the obvious blow to my head… Wait… that’d been the changeling blood. Mother had told me that. I shook myself, growing very irritated at my stupid brain. It didn’t usually let me down like this.

John flew up to the remains of the ghoul pony and returned, loaded up with what the pony had been carrying. It wasn’t quite up to what John and I had, but he’d been carrying several weapons that I could use to upgrade ours or sell. Luckily, this wasn’t affected by my dull brain. Muscle memory seemed unaffected.

“Come on Sherclop,” said John. “We gotta finish the lower level. Hopefully there’s not more of these changelings down there.”

“What’s EFS say?” I asked slowly.

John paused for a moment before swearing.

“Shit… well at least it’s only the one last one. You ready?”

I nodded, levitating the shotgun again.

We crept slowly into the lower levels of the building, glancing back and forth between the hallways and EFS. Nothing greeted us until were in what I assumed the changelings had made into some type of containment center.

“Looks like a prison down here,” John muttered.

Why hadn’t I thought of that word. That was the word I wanted, but I hadn’t come up with it… I knew the word prison. I’d been to one before… I couldn’t really think of why at the moment…

No matter. There were more important things to handle right now. We crept up behind the huge creature and John blew its brains out with Flitter and Cloudchaser. I felt like celebrating. Why was I happy? I’d just won something… was I playing a game? I didn’t play games… Plus, one only plays games at parties… and I don’t see a party.

“That should be it,” said John. “Let’s search to be sure and head back up to Jason, you think?”

I looked at him for several long seconds, then realized he was talking to me and expecting an answer.

“Sorry teacher,” I said disjointedly. “I forget the question, can I go to the nurse?”

Mother lay me down.

“He really needs rest,” she said. “Why don’t you finish the sweep and I’ll help Sherclop rest?”

“Keep a close eye on him,” John said, eyeing mother wearily.

I felt like he didn’t like mom much. How stupid… stupid John. He should know better. Mother loved me. Mother protected me. She was the only pony who did… Even as I thought it, she healed me in a soft glow of green magic. It was comforting… and relaxing. I liked the magic.

I would have to ask her how to do that spell sometime… Maybe she could teach me more about spells. After all, we’d be together now. There was no reason for her to leave me, not now. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and I was sure she wasn’t going to hurt me. She couldn’t… not her.

As if from far away, I heard John swear and swoop back up to our little perch, guns at the ready. What was he aiming at? It was as if he was aiming at… me? Why would my only friend in the wasteland be aiming at me? That didn’t fit.

“John?” I asked. “You’re gonna shoot me?”

“Get away from her!” John shouted, his voice in full solider vibrato. “She’s evil!”

Evil? Where? I leapt up, holding out my revolver with magic, but I couldn’t see anypony. There wasn’t any sort of threat here at all…

“John, don’t. You’re being stupid!”

My protests sound mumbled, even though I was trying shout.

“What are you on about?” asked mother, stepping forward.

John didn’t waste any more time with words for her. He took aim at the enemy only he could see. It was the true aim of a military captain that had been honed for years, and… something was wrong.

The world shimmered in front of me, and I couldn’t see the basement. I couldn’t see John or Mother at all. My head slowly grew clearer and clearer, no longer made dull by changeling blood. I wanted to ponder this, but there was a high amount of new sensations flooding through me and even my brain could only process information so quickly.

It was as if I were flying very, very fast upwards. I couldn’t breath and suddenly…

I sat up in a daze, feeling the bed beneath me bounce slightly. I quickly glanced around the room I was in… It was in an old Victorian style. I could tell based on the wallpaper and furnishings in the room, though no paintings or pictures adorned the walls. There was a washbowl and small makeup table in the corner. At the end of the bed was a wardrobe full of my disguises.

My disguises? This was… my room?

How did I know that? I hadn’t been here before and yet I knew every inch of this room… Wait… I’d been here a lot. In fact, this was my room… in my house. What happened to the wasteland?

“Pones!” called Trotson, knocking on my great door softly.

He always does that, trying not to wake me. It would anyway, I’m such a light sleeper. This information came to my brain of its own accord. How could I know what manor John would knock on a door when the wasteland had no doors to speak of? I was remembering things in this place that I couldn’t be remembering.

However, I did remember these things. It was like I’d just woken up from a very, very long dream.

“Yes Trotson,” I said, groaning softly. “I’ve just woken, my friend. I apologize. Have I slept very long?”

For that, of course, was what I’d been doing. That must be where all this feeling of the wasteland must’ve come from. How perfectly absurd. It’d just felt so very real. However, medical science was suggesting that dreams could feel like they are real at the time. Something to do with the way the brain receives information meant that you could have days worth of dreams in an hour.

This would explain my dreams of this wasteland… and why I’d never remembered my dreams when I’d slept there. After all, I’d been desiring a life of action ever since I was a mere colt. This was merely my brain delivering a desired emotion to me in the form of a dream. I shook myself slightly.

“My dear fellow,” said Trotson, opening the door. “I was unsure you should ever awake. Your experiments really have gone much too far this time. I must insist you cease with your prodding in those chemicals.”

He has never approved of my use of drugs. He doesn’t understand how much my mind rebels in lack of work. However, I may have gone slightly overboard last night. I had used a considerable amount of Dash… Cocaine, I mean. It was cocaine, after all. I rolled out of my bed, washing my face in the bowl.

I recalled Lestride talking to me yesterday about a peculiar case… Wow… I’d dreamt that Lestride was a mare… Trotson would surely get a laugh out of that. I turned to him and saw my very best friend in all the world before me. He bore an expression of grave concern. No doubt he was worried about my health. It was a sweet sentiment.

Trotson has always been that way, more concerned for others than himself.

“Trotson, my friend,” I said, slipping on my old coat and deerstalker hat. “I have had the most peculiar of dreams.”

“I daresay I’m not surprised,” he said. “You were murmuring all night. I had more than a thought to wake you.”

“And I would not have blamed you,” I said. “I was experiencing a post-apocalyptic world. It was the height of savage, my friend.”

I paused, slipping my revolver into my holster and searching for my pipbuck… Wait… the pipbuck was just part of my dream… but how familiar the weight felt… Is it possible that the wasteland had been real? That I really had traversed it? I posed my theory to Trotson and he insisted I sit and explain.

Once I had finished explaining in detail, Trotson laughed jovially.

“My dear Pones,” he said, smiling at me. “Even in your dreams you are the height of intellect and ability.”

I did not join in the laughter.

“It just… It seemed so real upon its happening… I am unable to help but feel I am missing out upon something important… I can’t help but feel that this world may be a dream too…”

“Come now. You hold up deductive reasoning above all else, don’t you? Let us apply your methods to this dream world you’ve been in for the past several hours. You think that you are in fact, not Sherclop Pones, lone consulting detective of the police force?”

“I’m not saying what I am or am not. In my dream, I was not a consulting detective, no… Not like I am here.”

“But you were in fact, named after yourself, and even meeting me?”

“Yes.”

“But I existed here first, didn’t I?”

“You did… I believe.”

“Well there you have it, my boy. Now, that’s enough of this talk of dreams. Lestride wishes to see us at the station to help solve his latest mystery.”

I nodded, but was unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Of course, Trotson was right, logically it made far more sense that my dream had simply been a dream and that this world was the real one. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I really had lived in the wasteland… However, I was just as assuredly here…

I decided for now that I would treat whichever reality I was in as the real one at the time. Should I return to the wasteland in my dreams, then I would treat it as the one true reality, but while in this world it would be true. It was the only solution that fit for me.

We trotted through Marerogate, and I took in several facts without even pausing for a breath.

Divorced Baker…

Infection in his hind left leg…

Partial Deafness…

I was apparently far more adept at analyzing in this world. This would be helpful to me with the mysteries, as it had been several times before. We stood in front of the grandiose police station and Trotson pushed in the door, waving at me to follow him in.

“Pones,” he called when I didn’t follow. “If you are still unwell, I’m sure Lestride…”

“I am fine,” I interrupted, shaking off the feeling of wrongness that had overwhelmed me. “Let us go, my friend.”

We entered the large building and I could see Lestride, trotting up to join us.

“Pones! Trotson!”

I could never understand why the stallion insisted on greet ponies as if it was the first time he was meeting them.

“Lestride,” I said, smiling softly. “I can see your reputable skill for remembering the names of your frequent visitors is, as ever, uninhibited.”

“As is your lack of respect for any living pony,” said Lestride, sighing.

“Let us see this supposed mystery which has put Marerogate’s very best and finest on their overpaid haunches.”

“She’s over in holding cell four.”

“Is she a prisoner?” asked Trotson, concern showing on his face.

“Not at all, but her father is beyond furious that she’s here.”

“Of course,” I said, trotting to the cell in question.

I already knew what was going on here.

Chapter 16: Embracing Reality

No, because I know who did it!

Pinkie, how could you possibly know?

How could I possibly not know?

Chapter 16: Embracing Reality

I walked into the cell, and saw Plum Pudding sitting across from me. It wasn’t until I sat down and eyed her wearily that I was given to wonder how I could possibly know this mare’s name… I certainly hadn’t met her before, had I?

I supposed Lestride must’ve mentioned it and I had simply filled in my brain-terminal without knowing… Except I didn’t have a brain-terminal in this place, because terminals don’t exist… I searched my brain for what the proper replacement for terminal was and came up empty. This frightened me, but I kept my cool as best I could and spoke to the mare.

“Miss Pudding, my name is Sherclop Pones. I am a consulting detective of some international repute.”

“Yes Mr. Pones,” she said, eyeing me hungrily. “Everyone knows who you are!”

“I am given to understand you’ve been receiving letters from a distant pen-pal turned lover, turned suitor… Am I correct?”

“Yes Mr. Pones… That’s a fairly decent summery.”

Something occurred to me.

“How do I know that?” I asked Trotson quietly.

“Whatever do you mean?” Trotson asked. “Lestride told us last night!”

Had he? I supposed it was possible, but I couldn’t actually recall such a thing happening.

I turned my attention to Plum Pudding who was still staring at me. I allowed my eyes to trace her face, analyzing carefully. I saw that her pupils were dilated, and could see that her heart rate was increasing. She was aroused, at least mildly. Stupid ponies…

“Apologizes Miss Pudding,” I said, shaking myself. “Now, I understand that you have a not inconsiderable fortune that is to be granted to you upon the day of your marriage?”

How did I know this? Surely I would’ve remember something of this conversation if it had come from Lestride.

“Yes Mr. Pones.”

“And had you ever informed your suitor of this information?”

“But of course not. Such things color intentions, do they not?”

“They do,” said Trotson, trying to be kind to the distraught mare.

“However, despite little real change in your relationship with the stallion, he simply stopped writing?”

Did my knowledge here have something to do with the wasteland? Was that possible? Thoughts about reality began spinning through my mind at a speed that even a pegasus couldn’t have followed.

“Yes Mr. Pones. Being concerned about such a thing I contacted the authorities and they stated that he hadn’t ever existed. Is it possible I am dating a ghost?”

Dating a ghost…

Miss Pudding wasn’t the only one dating a ghost… although my situation was different. This world wasn’t real… I could tell… Things were off… Just slightly and where there were gaps in logic and missing pieces, my mind didn’t have any answer for me. This was false, helped along by the knowledge that I knew the answer to this case…

In fact, I’d read it.

“Your father has been sending you fake letters in order to secure his hold over your fortune.”

“What?” asked Miss Pudding in shock… fake shock my mind invented for the purpose of this world, but shock none the less.

“And it’s all the better that he did,” I said, growing long-winded. “I mean, after all who is truly going to love you?”

“PONES!” shouted Trotson, aghast at my actions.

“Trotson,” I said, smiling. “Tell me, were this world real, wouldn’t you stop me?”

“Don’t do it!”

“But I’ve done nothing yet. You are reading my mind because you are in my mind!”

I drew my revolver and pointed it right at Plum Pudding.

“PONES!”

Bang!

This, of course, is the trick of such worlds the mind can create. You have to break them. You have to do something so outrageous that the brain is forced to admit that the world is not a real one. It’s just a matter of whether or not I would be able to accept whatever I’d seen in the wasteland that caused this dream world to appear.

Sure enough, the world around me began to shimmer and pass away as my body remained solid. I noticed that my mind was remaining clearer, and clean, despite the fact that I should be feeling dulled due to the changeling blood that had coated me. Then, what my mind had been too slow to put together came flooding into me in droves. Changeling blood didn’t dull the senses, but it was a power of their queen, Chrysalis.

I remembered reading about how she’d once tricked the prince and princess of the crystal empire with it. I turned over to mother and John, and what my mind had been refusing to let me see became clear.

Whatever the female form before me was, it wasn’t my mother. My mother was a dead body on the ground in front of John. It was clear from a moment’s glance that she’d been dead for a great long time. I turned to the creature that had taken the guise of my mother and saw a large changeling before me. The first thing that struck me was that this was in fact a she.

Next, that she was severally wobbly, as if she’d suddenly lost a huge amount of energy all in one go. I went in on a bit of a guess and addressed her.

“Chrysalis?”

“I am Queen Chrysalis,” she spat, still too weak to move very much.

I reached out and placed a hoof on her neck, pressing firmly.

“You pretended to be my mother to hide out with these ghouls… You tricked me and stole the affection of one of the only ponies left I could call family.”

“Poor Sherclop Pones!” she said, laughing. “I took mommy away from him! What are you waiting for? You want her memories? You want to know how she died screaming about her family?”

“Shut the hell up!” hissed John, shooting her through the hoof.

She barely even paused.

“I told her you were coming, you know? Oh it was glorious! It was all, ‘My baby boy’ this and ‘don’t hurt him’ that. She was such a crybaby! Just like a poor little filly… Just like her son!”

I forced myself to remain calm, react rationally. I realized, due to my short time through my namesake’s history that I’d been acting with too much emotion on my journey through the wasteland. I’d let my feelings cloud my judgment and get both myself and John hurt far too often. I would keep myself under better control now. I swore it.

“Chrysalis of the changelings,” I said solidly. “You have murdered innocents, betrayed loving families and attempted the overtaking of a peaceful community. You’re too dangerous to leave alive.”

I reached up high and brought my forehooves down on her face as she was laughing manically. I stomped again and again until I could be sure the mush beneath me wouldn’t get up again. John shook himself slightly.

“Sherclop…” he said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” I said gently, and I meant it. “You were looking out for me, and you were right. Help me bury her please. She deserves better than rotting here.”

John nodded and helped me carry my real mother’s body outside and dig a small grave for her. It took a little while, but I knew she deserved it. She’d been a loving mother, right up to her end… I only wished I could’ve seen her for real… However, wishing wasn’t going to fix what had happened to her.

“I love you, mom.”

With that simple eulogy, we head back inside and up the stairway to tell Jason about what had happened. I let John do the talking, allowing my brain terminal to start back up properly. I found that in a strange way, I was able to think… clearer. It was as if my thinking had become more robotic, even registering emotions with a logical acceptance. I still felt emotions, but I didn’t have you let my heart rule my head.

John came trotting over a moment later, telling that Jason had invited us to see their ascension to their great journey. I nodded and we followed the group down into the basement. I soon realized their journey would require riding the rockets to a place in the sky. This also explained why there were no normal ponies making this trip: the radiation would kill them almost instantly.

This forced my mind onto Chester. Up until now, his involvement had seemed relatively harmless. If he wanted to live his life among ghouls, he was welcome to, however now there was an issue. He wasn’t going with them on this trip and it would crush him to think he’d just been left behind without a place to go. I turned to John.

“We’ve got to straighten Chester out. It’s wrong to let him believe he’ll be alone once they leave.”

“How? You want to tell him he’s not really a ghoul, because we already tried that once and that just made him mad.”

I went over to the computer that Chester was hastily entering information in on. I noted that his settings for the flight were slightly off and I had enough practice with terminals to correct the misstep. However, it was quickly clear to me that Chester was a far more skilled technician then I was. It was probably a part of his cutie mark and I would’ve checked if it wasn’t covered by the lab coat.

“Chester.”

“Clean-coat… Listen you two did us a big one by cleaning this place out… So, if I can ever help you out, just say the word.”

“I will remember that, but I’m not here to talk about favors. I need you to realize what you really are.”

“Shut up with that!” Chester hissed. “I’m a ghoul pony! I accepted that long ago!”

“Well you’re not!” I responded firmly. “Why do you think Jason isn’t letting you go on the journey?”

“He needs someone to launch the rockets!”

“Then why not me? I’m a skilled scientist… Certainly enough to start a pre-set launch sequence.”

Chester looked very uncomfortable for a long moment and finally screamed, slamming his hooves down on the terminal.

“He lied to me!” shouted Chester. “That bastard let me think… for years… Fine. If he’s journey’s so important to him, let’s see how they like it when I launch them all to the damn moon!”

“Hey!” John shouted. “That isn’t the right way to go about this! You should use it to help yourself!”

“Oh yeah?!” he snapped. “And where exactly do you think they need a broken, out of touch guy like me?!”

“The NCE prison and Dodge Junction for a start,” I said. “The prisons systems are in desperate need of repair and Dodge Junction’s just begging for a few defenses beyond that fence. I’m willing to bet there’s plenty of places that could use you. You’re a skilled pony, Chester… Don’t give up just because this isn’t what you thought.”

Chester eyed me for a very long time. For a moment, I thought he might swing at me. However, he sighed, and nodded a few times.

“I’ll head out to the prison after this… If what you said is true… If you’re not just pulling one over on me… I guess I’ll owe you again.”

“I’m still not doing this so you’ll owe me,” I said. “I’m doing it because it’s wrong to leave you behind if I can help. I was told once there was a time when ponies helped each other out in the wasteland. I want to see that happen again. Maybe some type of harmony could return… even in this shithole.”

Chester didn’t talk to me anymore, but returned to his terminal. I was beyond exhausted, and felt like I hadn’t slept in a week, at least. Too tired to even watch the launch, I went over to a corner and lay down on my side, waiting to drift off to sleep.

However determined I was to pass out the racket around me was making it impossible. Even I couldn’t sleep through the pounding all around, not to mention the beeps and boops of Chester’s terminal. My mind chose that moment to bring up the memory potion I’d taken from the would-be bandit a while back.

Carefully, I levitated it out of my bag and examined it. I hadn’t taken any sense I’d watched Big Mac’s death. However, that had ended up being helpful and there was no doubt I’d enjoyed seeing the history.

“Alright then, what do you have for me?” I asked, taking a long sip from the bottle.

Note: Level up!

Perk:
Wasteland Approved – Stable ponies are tenderhooves. You’re a wastelander and have gained a +3 DT because of your battle experience.

Chapter 17: Bounty

We’d better get moving! There are things out here we really don’t want to run into after dark!

Chapter 17: Bounty

I looked around a vast city, the likes of which the wasteland had never shown me. For the first time in my life, I truly understood what places like Dodge Junction must’ve been like before the megaspells. Of course, I’d seen pictures of Canterlot in my history books, but this was so much more than that.

This was vast city of crystals. Every inch of it was shimmering in a rainbow of sparkling hues. It made me feel… lighter… happy just by seeing it. This must’ve been what the crystal empire was like before the war…

However, I wasn’t given long to admire its beauty. A small group of guard ponies came flying past me and I followed them, curious as to what part of history I’d landed in. Soon enough, they lead me to a huge room, and I saw a unicorn stallion with a white coat and blue-streaked mane. He wore the golden armor of a general, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he considered every solider there his equal.

“Barricade the door!” he shouted, gesturing with his hoof. “We’ll hold out against him here! You men, finish evacuating the children and women!”

Then I saw a beautiful pink mare with a multi-colored mane trot up to the general and kiss him softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly. “If you stay, I stay.”

“This isn’t up for discussion!” he said sharply. “We don’t have the men to fight him off, and the ponies here are way too frightened to power the crystal heart.”

The door suddenly gave a loud bang and I could tell something was very insistent about breaking in. Despite it being just a memory, my body tensed up, ready to run or fight. Whatever was trying bust down that door was as furious as a fully-grown dragon.

“Shit!” the general swore. “Phillip! Get her out of here!”

A young stallion came up and took the pink mare through the entrance I’d come in, despite her protests. I felt sorry for her. It was clear she loved him and wanted to die by his side rather then live alone. Whoever she was, he clearly knew she was more important then he was and was ready to die defending her and the other ponies.

“Soliders!” he yelled out, stirring the hearts of the ponies in the room. “We all know what this is! I have fought with you all for years now, and I have seen us do the impossible time and time again!”

Bang!

“I can’t say that I know we’ll live through this! I don’t say that we’ll see victory here today. All I can do is ask one thing of you. If we are going to die here today, then we give this asshole all the hell we can muster before we do!”

Several ponies cheered, readying themselves to fight. This was new to me. I’d never seen an entire battalion of ponies resigned to fate and ready to meet it for the greater good.

Bang!

Honestly, had I been alive at the time, I would’ve fought then and there. I vaguely wondered how much of a hero complex I had that twice now, I’d been stirred by a long-dead military pony.

“We are soldiers of the Crystal Empire!” an earth pony near me shouted.

“Let’s fuck him up!”

BANG!

The door was shattered, and wooden shards were sent everywhere. Through the door, a huge lance made of dark crystals flew in the impaled one of the forward ponies.

“ATTACK!” shouted the general pony, charging with his sword held high.

It was a slaughter, pure and simple. Oh sure, the ponies put up a good fight. Guns were fired and pleated the dark creature that entered. But there was no hope for them. They were sent flying, often with their limbs and heads blown off. I may not have known the general or the pink alicorn for earlier, but I knew this creature.

King Sombra.

I’d never seen a picture of him before but there was no other pony like him. He was called the last of the cave ponies and clearly was driven insane either by his isolation or by his defeat from trying to re-take the crystal empire. Either way, he was nothing like I’d seen before. He was less pony and more demon that happened to have a muzzle and horn.

He almost waltzed through the room, killing in a blood rage as he went. Any pony that challenged him died. The general did everything he could to save his friends, but couldn’t stop the beast that was the Dark King. I came to realize through the battle that Sombra was intentionally leaving him for last. Whatever it was that the general did to him, Sombra hated the pony a great deal.

The general stood facing Sombra among the dead bodies of his troops.

“You bastard!” he growled, raising his blade. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

He charged forward, swinging mightily. It was clear the general was a skilled fighter, but he never stood a chance against Sombra. I watched, horrified as Sombra tore his head off and drank the general’s blood, laughing manically all the while.

With that horrible vision I was sent back to the wasteland… and was immediately sick. I put the potion back into my bag, and rolled over, trying to get to sleep.

I woke up before John did, and when I woke up we were alone. The rockets had launched and Chester had left. It didn’t matter, our job here was done. I went upstairs and went through my saddlebags for some food and pulled out the radio I was given by the NCE.

I switched it on, and immediately got a response.

“NCE frequency two! This is Sergeant Lestride, please state your business on this channel.”

“This is Sherclop Pones reporting in,” I said. “The situation at the factory outside Nieghton has been resolved. There will be no further ghoul activity there.”

I heard a moment of silence from the other end.

“Copy that. We’ll have a courier deliver your payment. Where should we send it?”

I considered it. We would need a base of operation before long and John had said there was this New Pegas place where all wasteland movers and shakers ended up, so that sounded as good as anywhere.

“You have troops stationed in New Pegas?”

“Yes, on the outskirts.”

“Send it to them, I’ll be making my way up there.”

“Roger that. We’ll have your payment there by tomorrow evening. Lestride out.”

I turned off the radio and smiled. Case closed… so much as it deserved to be called a case. I relaxed, letting my brain terminal sort and organize the facts of Neighton and Chrysalis. It was almost soothing. Since entering the wasteland I hadn’t really stopped. Oh sure, I’d rested. I’d taken the time needed to sleep or think, but I’d never really just relaxed like this.

After a few hours, John came up to me, blinking wearily.

“Gotta say, I like the tracking on this pipbuck thing. Makes it easier to find you when you go wondering off.”

“It’s nice now, but it became a bit of a cluster-fuck in the stable,” I said. “I’m planning on heading up to New Pegas and set up a sort of business for my detective work there… I’m just letting you know that if you want to come along, I’d be happy to bring you into it.

“Hell yeah!” John said smiling. “You’re my best friend, and it’s fun traveling with you, and we’re helping ponies! I can’t think of another way I’d want to spend my time.”

I smiled brightly at his enthusiasm. John was an odd pony, no doubts about it, but we were friends.

“Well if you’re ready, let’s head topside and I’ll show you how SATS works.”

John nodded and we slowly head through the hallways and up the steps to the outer world again.

It was a few hours up the road before anything more interesting happened. John was quickly getting proficient with SATS. No doubt his military background helped with that. It was as we were approaching the outskirts of the New Pegas barrier that we were stopped, this time by more of the Chyrsalis Legion.

It had been a long time since I’d met these ponies, and I was no longer a helpless stable pony. I was a branded badass detective.

“Sherclop Pones!” said the leader of this group, clad in fine armor. “By order of Moripony, you are to be put to death!”

“Death huh? Sorry boys, I’ve got a practice to set up, can we reschedule?”

In answer, they drew swords and gun and John and I fired our weapons.

Boom Boom!

Bang!

One of the ponies went down, but the leader John had shot barely even flinched. I dove behind the highway’s barrier and glanced at my HUD. His health barely even budged.

“Dammit!” I hissed. “I knew we should’ve bought some armor piercing bullets!”

There was really very little for it but to unload what we had on the leader. But first I decided to wipe out the other two he’d brought with him. They were armored well but their faces were unprotected. My skills in hoof-to-hoof combat made quick work of them, and I turned to see John taking cover behind a large rock, hiding from the rifle the legionnaire had pulled out.

“HEY ASSHOLE!” I yelled, letting my pistol ring out several times.

At first he didn’t respond, but two of my shots caught him in the hind quarters. Angrily, the stallion turned to me and sprinted forward, his rifle firing in quick bursts. However, he was an earth pony and wasn’t ready for somepony like me. Using my telekensis, I lifted and threw his helmet, leaving his head open for John to snipe from the air.

Boom!

And down went our would-be assassin. I looted them with John, giddy with the thought of the caps we would get for their gear. John suddenly gave a small snort and tossed me a letter one of them had been carrying.

Curious, I opened it.

My Legion, we have another holier-than-thou white knight who needs putting down! Here are your details:

Name: Sherclop Pones
Appearance: Tan coat, Brown mane

I am placing a bounty of 1000 denarii for his head!

Moripony

I smiled widely, pocketing the note.

“Wow,” I said. “I’m flattered. I haven’t even met this pony and he’s willing to pay 1000 caps to kill me.”

“Actually 4000,” said John. “Denarii are worth more than caps, though I don’t know how the rate’s figured out.”

I laughed.

“Now he’s flirting with me. Should I send him a fruit basket? Maybe attach a note about how my barn door doesn’t swing like that?”

John laughed too, and we continued on our path to New Pegas. I was truly amazed at just how big the place was. John hadn’t mentioned that it had several different districts. I wasn’t sure there were even enough ponies in the wasteland to fill this massive place up. However, this pleased me in a sick sort of way.

Whenever large congregations of ponies meet up, there is inevitably crime that happens. Where there is crime there is mystery, and so if I were to set up a business in crime solving, this was the town to do it in. Of course, we’d have to actually get in first.

As we pushed open the gate, I was shown a pathetic shithole of strip. This I hadn’t excepted. I couldn’t help but watch aghast as two young fillies chased down a large rat, and finally beat it brains in and ate it furiously. This was depravity I wasn’t ready for. I gave John a curious look and he nodded at me.

“Yeah, it can be that bad here sometimes. There was talk of the NCE and the beards getting things fixed, but the leader of the beards is a stubborn bastard, and the NCE… well you know about them.”

“The beards are some type of gang?”

“Yeah, named after somepony who was famous before the war. Somepony the Bearded. Whatever the first part was, most ponies forgot and so they just took the names the beards, and their boss is simply The Bearded. He’s a decent enough guy, but has a hell of a temper on him.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked, curious.

“Before I settled in Trottingham, I stayed here for a bit. The beards seemed the best of a bad group, so I figured I would do what I could to help them out. Eventually, I got too wound up just sitting around, so I left.”

“I see.”

“Hey boys,” said a armored mercenary. “Name’s Odin. If you want some protection crossing Hillside, you can’t get better than me.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve got protection covered,” I said laughing.

“Look,” he said in a hushed tone. “Hillside's a rough area. You really could use an extra set of eyes at least. Come on, only 200 caps.”

“We’re fine!” insisted John. “We’ll come back if we change our mind.”

“I’ll be here.”

There were another two bodyguards for hire, one of whom I could only guess was one of the beards. However, we had loads of equipment to sell off first, then we could look into this mess with the beards. It was as we were rounding the corner and heading into the second quadrant that I heard a voice.

“Pst! Yo man, you need a fix?”

“A fix?” I asked, turning to the mare who called out to us. “What are you selling?”

The mare opened up her saddlebags, laying out her goodies before us. My eyes went immediately to the huge amounts of Dash I saw, and I bought them. My mind raised a concern about it being so cheap, but I figured that it was probably just because this seller was working a poor area.

I happily slipped ten new vials of Dash into my bags, handing over just 150 caps, which we could pay and barely notice, and now I had Dash! John cleared his throat irritated but I ignored him. I didn’t have a problem, hell I had barely even used any Dash.

“Let’s go,” I said, pointing out a door that read Dried Apple and Apple Butter’s Apple Ammo!

I shook my head, vaguely wondering if it was a test to them to see how many times they could fit apple into the title. John right behind me, I opened the door and went inside.

Chapter 18: Hit me!

No one can vanquish an Ursa Major! I just made the whole story up to make me look better!

Chapter 18: Hit Me!

Ok, it was official. If the other stores in New Vegas were anything like this one, this place rocked!

My eyesight was drawn immediately to a beautiful gun mounted behind the counter where Dried Apple stood, eyeing me carefully. John was being stubborn, insisting we couldn’t afford the 1700 caps that he was asking, but was that such a price to pay for a gun of amazingness?

It was titled Luna’s Cry, and was a revolver holding 5.56 mm bullets, which I had plenty of from my rifle. I traded every bit of equipment I’d been gathering and an extra 950 caps of our money for that gun, but dammit all, I was gonna get it! John shook his head, stating that it was a stupid purchase.

“This gun has made me at least 10% cooler, maybe 20%!”

“And I’m sure that will stun our enemies.”

“They’ll be stunned by my coolness, my awesomeness and radicalness!”

“Those are all the same thing!”

“You would say that, which is why you’ll never have a gun as cool as this.”

“I have twin rifles named after one of the best flying teams in all of the Equestrian war effort!”

“And my pistol is named after the princess who lead Equestria through most of that war.”

“And lost!”

“She didn’t lose! She just didn’t quite win.”

John snorted, finishing up what trade he had with Dried Apple and pocketed a share a caps before heading with me back into the broken streets. We hadn’t gone a block when two malnourished ponies charged at us, using flimsy knives that wouldn’t have pierced my armor, let alone done much damage. I calmly took out my new pistol and took aim.

Blam! Blam!

Dead. Dead.

“Don’t reckon they have much on them,” said John, spitting on one of their bodies.

As we went into the next quadrant, it was clear that the area became a little nicer, but not by much. However, there were a few well-lit buildings and I didn’t see any dead bodies through the streets here. We moved forward and saw a… well… provocative mare on the corner who winked at us.

“Hey there boys,” she said in a sultry tone. “If you’re looking for a good time I’d see you both at Winona’s Bedding!”

“No thanks ma’am,” said John, military brush in full. “Trying to behave ourselves right now.”

“Awwww…” she said, acting truly put out. “There’s so much more fun in being bad! Well, don’t be a stranger.”

I looked at John, questioning.

“Winona’s Bedding is actually a good stop to make. It’s got a decent bar and… other services… but the main reason I’m suggesting it is the gambling ring the back. One of the few places with tables you can find outside the main strip.”

“You want to gamble?”

“Well somepony went and blew most of our caps on a shiny new gun!”

“Fair point. So what, we each take a hundred caps and see what we get?”

“Sounds fair to me. I suggest you try blackjack, roulette is a tougher game.”

I nodded, pocketing the caps. Winona’s bedding was pretty straight-forward for a gambling den. There was a cashier who traded my caps for club tokens and I used those to join the blackjack game that was going on at the moment.

The dealer passed out my first two cards.

Seven and two… not great, but playable. I tapped my hoof down to indicate another card.

Five… That brought me up to fourteen, a weak hand but it was a bit dangerous to hit. However I knew I’d lose for sure on such a low hand and tapped my hoof again.

A queen.

“Fuck!” I swore, giving up my chips.

I got dealt in again and felt a surge of happiness. I got a ten and a king. Total of twenty which wasn’t easy to match for the house!

And yet, the house did match it and I broke even.

I snared. I was going to beat this damn table! Next hand, next loss. Another hand, another loss.

Before long, I was out of chips and thoroughly irritated. The game followed no logic or reason whatsoever! It was all just luck and I was not a lucky pony!

I left the table, grumbling to myself about a stupid waste of caps and how John had wasted more money than I had be coming here, right as he came towards me, bright smile on his face.

“Hey Sherclop! How’d you do?”

“I lost! You?”

“I hit it big!”

My mouth dropped. John had thousands of caps in chips… Literally thousands.

“But I… and you…”

“Guess the tables aren’t too kind to you, huh? Oh well, we can’t all be gamblers! Come on, let’s cash in and see the beards!”

“We will never speak of this again,” I said solemnly.

John lead me to large building that reminded me of the stage for plays and shows that the ponies had before the war.

“Hold it,” said a gruff pony at the enterance. “No one sees the Bearded unless you’ve got business with him and I don’t think you do.”

John pulled out 50 caps, handing to the doorguard.

“He’ll want to see us.”

“Well I guess you do have some business. The Bearded is that bored-looking guy at the table there.”

We went inside and could see the back of a pony sitting at a table. Even at this distance I could see he wore an expensive white coat, much nicer than most clothes I’d seen in the wasteland. Cautiously, I walked over and sat down at his table, John sitting next to me.

“Behold there Gladstone, it seems we would have vistors.”

He spoke with an obvious appreciation for old English, but my knowledge of it was limited at best.

“I take it you’re the Bearded then,” I said.

“Indeed I am, and unless my eyes deceive me, I see John Trotson sitting before me.”

“Hey there,” said John, carefully. “You charging people to see you now?”

“Ah, I see my underling must be up to his earning rackets again,” he said to John. “Take this with my apologies. However learned I am of you John, I am uninformed of your companion. Who might he be?”

“My name is Sherclop Pones,” I said. “The Detective of the Wasteland.”

“Detective? Now that would indeed be a happy accident.”

“You don’t believe in accidents,” said John. “We’re here to offer our services in exchange for a favor.”

“Always straightforward you were, Mr. Trotson, and that is a trait not lost on me. Very well. It so happens that I have a couple of issues that could use your assistance. However, I will not ask something for nothing. What is it you would want of me?”

“You have connections in the New Pegas Strip?” I asked. “I want to start a business there. I don’t need large or grand, just a base of operations.”

“Ah, I see. Now that is an interesting implication. Very well, I shall make contact with some of my friends over the gate and will have an office set up for you, on the condition that you help me with my struggles in Hillside.”

“I am glad to assist you with your troubles, but know this: My goals here are to benefit ponies and lessen bloodshed as much as possible. I will not extort anypony or harm them just because you say so.”

“We have the same goals in mind, Sherclop Pones. There is a chance for you to help out ponies here in Hillside. One of my scouts has reported and stringcy at the eastern gate into the city. I am sure you noticed the bodyguards that are for hire there…”

“Yes.”

“One of them, a stallion by the name of Odin charges twice as much for safe passage through Hillside, and yet he has much more business than anyone else, and once someone has used him once, they never use anyone else. I want you to find out what it is he’s doing that makes him so valuable.”

I smiled widely.

“I accept your case.”

It didn’t take us long to make it back to the main gate, and Odin was almost leaking with smug satisfaction when I said we’d changed our mind and could use an escort. John slid him 200 caps for the transport.

“Keep close you two,” Odin said. “I don’t dilly-dally.”

Odin led us at a brisk pace through Hillside, revolver clutched in his mouth. It wasn’t very far past the beards’ hangout that he held up a hoof to tell us to stop.

“What is it?” I asked, peering ahead.

“I don’t like the look of this group ahead, let’s go around to the side.”

I turned to John and flicked my head at my pipbuck to indicate he should check EFS. It showed no sort of threat whatsoever. Never the less, we followed him through a back alley and came up almost alongside the group that Odin had pointed out. There were four of them and they came running at us, unarmed.

Odin quickly fired off shots and I smiled, realizing what this was. He fired just three shots and all four ponies went down, and he turned to us, smiling brightly.

“Well my little ponies,” he said. “It’s a good think you brought old Odin along. If you used one of the other guards, you might be dead right now.”

“Not likely,” I said.

John turned to me, confused and I could tell he hadn’t seen what I had.

“What do you mean?” asked Odin.

“There were four ponies… you fired three shots.”

“Oh,” Odin said, nervous as John perked up, going to the bodies. “Well I aimed for the fleshy parts of one of them, took two out with one shot like that.”

“No one can accurately predict the travel of a bullet through a pony’s body,” said John. “And something I may have forgotten to mention: I’m an army medic. Granted, I haven’t done patch-up work in a little while, but I don’t know of any dead bodies that are still breathing and are without injury… Unless you count ghouls.”

Odin noticeably shook and began sweating.

“Well uh… You see…”

“You’re a sham.” I said. “Get the hell out of Hillside before I have to track you down again!”

Odin quickly galloped away and we head back to the bearded to give our report. I couldn’t help but smile. Oh sure, they’d been very simple and straightforward, as far as cases went, but I’d now solved two (three if you count dodge junction) cases since I’d been topside, and that felt like plenty of cause for celebration.

Once we explained what had happened The Bearded smiled at us, and slid several caps across the table.

“For your troubles and the expense you two incurred. I must thank you Sherclop Pones. I admit I hadn’t expected to get such a through result so quickly. I will say there have been others like you before. There were ponies who say they wanted to help others. Some managed to, bit by bit. But none I’ve ever met have the spark I see in you.”

“That’s because, despite the ponies you’ve met, there is no other pony quite like me.”

John chuckled slightly at my cockiness.

“Alright Mr. Pones. I have one more job for you and should you be as impressive in this work, I will help you with your new office, as well as any intel you should want in Hillside and The Strip.”

Instantly I realized what good having Hillside spies could be. Hillside was a cesspool of information and gossip ran rapid in places like New Pegas. I hadn’t expected the bearded to add onto my request, perhaps this was actually a good pony, even if he had his faults.

“You name the job, and consider it done.”

“There are two ponies in the slums of this town that could really do some good here, but they’re both made completely incompetent due to their reliance on chems. I need you to do what it takes to sober them up and get them helping the ponies of Hillside.”

“What are their names?” asked John.

“Blazing Glory and Silver Spectacles. Glory is a brilliant motivator and particularly good at helping ponies put their talents to good use for the public, but after the years of crime that came to New Pegas, he lost the will to fight and downs himself in Dash and Mint-als.”

“Yeah,” said John snidely. “Reminds me of somepony.”

I glared at him.

“And what can you tell me about Silver?” I asked.

“A great chemist, and capable of actually helping out the Ministry of Peace fort on the western end of Hillside, but he’s too busy trying to drink away everything he’s seen done to other ponies. Both are sorrowful men.”

“I thought the MOP ended after the war did,” I said to John.

“It got revived in Hillside when the crime rate started to head up,” he explained. “They try as best they can to implement the MOP leader’s attitude towards healing and care. For a lot of ponies, they’re like a small beacon of hope.”

“Well then, guess we’ve got to slap two druggie ponies out of the slums then. Consider it done!”

“Best of luck to you both,” said the bearded, petting Gladstone softly.

Note: Level up!
Perk: Anope – You’re a hoof combat expert. +5 DT against melee and unarmed attackers and you can’t be knocked down!

Prologue

War. War never changes.

After the megaspells decimated most of Equestria, several of us hid in stables. Others escaped the attacks and made a go of survival in the wasteland. Of these, several ponies tried to re-establish communities and legions to achieve their goals. Many of these groups: The Chrysalis Legion, The New Crystal Empire, The Galloping Gala Attending, and many more were brought to the surface to try and take control of what the world had become.

Hello there, little pony. My name is Sherclop Pones, and yes, it is just like the stallion in the storybooks all fillies and colts are told about. My parents have an odd sense of humor about them. I am recording this audio file upon my pipbuck moments before my death in the hope that anypony that finds this shall have a chance to deliver it to my friend, John Trotson.

It now occurs to me that, between the cruelty of the wasteland, and my own addled brain in this moment and just plain bad luck; that my direction might be horribly off. If that is the case, you will have no idea who anypony I mentioned actually is. So, I shall take a moment to recount my story to you, as best I am able.

Let’s start at the beginning, a very good place to start.