Chapters Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Prologue: Sweet Life in Out Town
If you were actually here to see me. “Who is that poor unfortunate colt? ” you might have been asking, if you were to see me right now, moving a heavy wagon full of stones, while a bunch of raiders whip me every time I stop.
“You wanna feed the dogs, or us?”
“You little pathetic bucking shit, you value your life dont’ah?”
“Bucking good-for-nothing bum, no wonder you live with us!”
Those are the quotes I hear being yelled at me on a daily basis. Why I’m just another citizen of this little shitwhole called “Out Town”.
Years ago this place was simply called “Our Town”, but even then, the place was a shitwhole. A tiny village where everypony was equal, with no cutie marks or talents, just simply every next pony being basically another you. According to history logs, this town was so obsessed to make everypony equal that they even got rid of their cutie-marks and replaced them with the "=" sign.
But this town had one tiny perk.
The place was so boring and sad, the rest of the world never saw it. That is a good thing when the world is at war. But then, when the war happened, it consumed even this place.
And now today, supposedly like every other pre-war settlement, it is another place full of pony-eating, murdering, sadistic, and even to some point cannibalistic crazies. And it seems that, however those original villagers of this place handled it to get rid of their cutie-marks, the trick apperently stuck to this place. Nopony who lives here, has a cutie-mark. Everypony is a blank-blank.
I honestly wouldn’t know whether other places in the Equestrian Wasteland are better or worse than this since I’ve lived here my whole life. But in places like this, you either eat, or you are eaten. Unfortunately I hold the middle ground.
I am a slave: I eat only so I can live, and others who eat, keep me for later instead of eating me now. Let me repeat how long I lived like this: My! Entire! LIFE!
My name is Gideon. I was born, raised and still live as a slave in Out Town: One of the most deadly Raider settlements in the Wasteland.
Once a small boring town, now after the war rebuilt into a massive prison. I'm just one of the many slaves of Out Town. All 219 of them to be exact.
I’ve spent my whole life moving bricks, washing floors, keeping the iron hot, licking hoofs, and being bucked. Both figuratively, and very literally.
Other than that, I’ve spent my life eating crappy meals, being forced to watch as some of my friends are hanged for every time we try to escape, and my favorite activity, staring at the wall of my "house", dreaming of being anywhere but here.
As of now, I have just finished my 8th year of life here. However, believe this. Despite of how well I described this place, you would be jealous of me if you were to be a new slave here, because compared to some others, I am really lucky. I survived 8 years of growing up here, and that made the raiders think I am one of the most valuable slaves.
Granted, I was one of the strongest kids here because of the amount of work I putted in moving heavy objects. Also some slaves consider me “one of the prettiest slaves”. That’s a very bad thing to hear Raiders say about you, especially here. They want to calm their desires, and they’ll eventually do that to every slave they own. They don’t care how old the pony is, or even if he’s a “he” or a “she”. They’ll rape the pony as long as he has some kind of whole.
I had my fair share of rapes from raiders who couldn’t wait for one of the older mare slaves here being free from work. A word of just two meanings here.
And as for cutie-marks, like I said before: In here, they do not exist. Nopony, slave or raider, has a cutie-mark. Most slaves do have whip lashes instead.
The Ponies that lived here before the war, obviously used some kind of magical mumbo-jumbo to make their cutie-marks dissappear. Probably for good. Another thing I wouldn't know better, because I'm an earth-pony. Magic, that's what Unicorns are for, and only raiders use true magic.
You might have already figured out what they might use it for. Unicorn Slaves, they use their magic, only for what Raiders want: Build weapons for the Raiders, and to "pleasure them". And that's not counting the basics of lifting simple things like pencils and such.
I hope that’s a good enough summary: my life is pure hell, and anything but this life is great. Except for death. I may be having the worst life, but if I were to choose between ending it and changing it, I’d prefer changing it. Even if my life is worth nothing, I value it.
The only lives that I openly admit of having no care for at all, are the lives of those Raiders, who have kept me in chains and slave-collars for all these years. Yes, I DO want to kill them. I do want to show them what it felt like to be a slave. The one raider I would most definetly want to kill, is the one who leads all those other sadistic, trigger-happy idiots.
The king of Out Town, Bloody Blade.
His name speaks for itself. Imagine a Pony who would still surprise you with sadism and torture even if you were to have already met all the other bastards in this Town. Sounds like a charming Pony? Now that I said it, do not ever let his looks fool you. He acts friendly, but his blades are NOT for self-defense as he claims, but they are for the meat, as he claims.
Get the idea?
He is the most definite Pony, that I would kill with a smile on my face. It would end his life, and not only change mine, but every slave's life. And, after so many years of wishing so, my wish, for a life-changing event, would finally, become reality.
Just not the way I wanted it.
Other scums of the Equestrian Wasteland would generally come here to either trade one of the slaves, or they would sometimes become new auditions to this business. One day when a freaky-looking, creepy, ghoulish pony would visit Out Town, this would be the day when I get my wish to change my life.
But the new life I had then, would not be entirely better. In fact, now that I make the comparison, I’d think my old life of hell, would turn into a new life of hell.
I basically spent 8 years of hell, just so I can start a new set of years for a new hell. Only this time, it would be with a very, VERY, strange Pony that I would have the dishonor to call "My Friend".
Author's Note
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I hope you enjoyed.
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Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Chapter 1: A Different type of Freedom
Chapter 1: A Different type of Freedom
“Sweet dreams are over, slaves! Off your Beds, NOW!”
Whiplie sure liked it when somepony didn’t do as he ordered. Gives him a reason to swing that whip at us a bit more. But this morning none of us wanted to satisfy him.
I told you before that Ponies from some other hell-wholes out there, occasionally visit Out Town to do a little slave-trading. Some were visiting, this time to buy me or one of the other Filly slaves.
But, do you also remember how I said that I was one of the most valuable ones? That meant I was also one of the most expensive. That’s why for all these years I was never bought.
Because nopony could afford me.
I’m currently worth 850 caps and that’s a lot. Does it sound like I want to be bought? Absolutely, because if I have to be a slave for all my life, I at least want to be in other places than this.
We were gathered-up to the main square of Downtown, surrounded by at least three walls with guards. The walls were around us, me and 7 other slave fillies were forced to sit in a line facing Whiplie who stood between us and the main entrance to the square.
His friends Grey Boom and Windy Shot were standing behind us aiming their hunting rifles, ready to shoot if one of us decided to play stupid or say “No”. It did happen before. We were sitting in the exact same spot. The blood was still there.
For all these years I’ve been looking at those walls knowing that I might never get passed them.
I still recall how many of the other ones tried to fight or dig through them, just so that they can be shot or hanged after getting caught. That was one of the rules Bloody Blade enforced for every “citizen” of Out Town: almost every slave who ever tries to escape is hanged for any attempt of escape.
I only once was part of a group that tried.
As you can see that didn’t worked so well. I don’t know how they didn’t manage to figure out I was involved, and I preferred to keep it that way since. And I always look at the rotting hanging corpses of my other "chain-mates" from back then, as a reminder to never try again.
Blade knows how to use fear as a mean of obedience.
Most slaves who ever tried running, their corpses are left hanging for good, so that fewer slaves would ever want to escape knowing that this is what they’re risking to happen to them.
It was also however a rather dumb idea, because it also sometimes scared away some of the “customers”.
This time, the customers interested in buying some filly slaves were the unusual type.
Grey Boom and Windy Shot were watching us while Whiplie handled the transaction with the “strange customers”. There were 5 of them and I could definitely tell by their attitudes and the way they dressed that they were Mercenaries or some other crap, but one new unusual thing.
There was a literal trotting corpse among them.
I was familiar with Ghulification: too much time spent in radiation, and you turn into a zombie. There were more than plenty of Ghoul slaves here too. But this one, he looked like we should be impressed he’s not a feral yet.
He talked in a creepy growly voice, his skin was so decayed he almost looked like he was partially flayed, some of the scars revealed his insides glowing, and one of his eyes completely red like it was just burned. His skin may have been near non-existent, but I could almost tell that it was possibly orange-coated.
It’s a good thing he wore a duster. I’m sure his whole body was only bones and inner organs underneath that coat. And since, he was bald, I bet his tail was gone too.
And under that Gas mask on his mouth, I bet one of the jaws decayed away years ago.
Because, by the way, that’s one consultation price for Ghoulification: Extended life span. You don’t age naturally. Who knows how old this Ghoul was. He might have been from like, way before the world ended years and years ago.
That bothered some of the Raiders too, but he wasn’t the leader of those Mercenary Ponies, and that’s what mattered most in the transaction.
Everypony were pretty certain that the real leader of those Mercenaries would keep him under the leash. He talked with Whiplie while his friends, including that creep, stood behind him and waited.
“These are some of the most expensive meats we have on the little kiddies market. U’ sure y’all can afford them?” Whiplie spoke while containing a sinister smile.
But I could almost see it in his eyes.
He tried to annoy the customers into an argument so he could have a reason to whip them too. The damn Raider unicorn was flying that whip around with his magic, showing off his capabilities with it and how much he just enjoys using it.
I'm telling you, if you were to compare Whiplie and his whip to a graverobber and his shovel, you'd see very little difference.
I do have him to thank for some of the scars I have, but that’s just his mercy. Normally he swings that whip and rips flesh and meat right off.
The leader of those Ponies then asked for the price.
He wore a typical metal armor with a battle saddle of two shotguns. Armed to the teeth like all other Mercenary Ponies behind him.
Yet, he and his friends didn’t seem like the kind of Mercenaries that had a pleasure in bucking underage kids, but everypony in this land were sick, so as much as I wanted to leave Out Town, I was kind of nervous of being bought by these guys.
Yes, they did look like they could afford me.
And then, I could almost hear my heart beat when the leader Pony looked at me and asked “How much for this one?”
Whiplie suddenly realized that he couldn’t fool them into an argument, so he putted up his best “slave-business-pony” act.
“Oh, good choice, good choice. This ones right here, he’s one of the strongest little filly slaves we have here. Only the third oldest one. He can move what’s heavy, clean rooms, he can even cook-up a decent rat stew.”
Yeah, I was taught to be a cook too. Raiders love to eat what’s red.
"And 8 years of being whipped in the ass for being a pain in mine, we thought him decent discipline too. I can guarantee yah’. Y’all never hear him complain. Ain’t that right Gideon?"
I immediately answered “Yes sir” , because he wasn’t really wrong there you know. But, if they buy me, it won’t be the same as being a slave under Whiplie’s watch.
No slave pony could ever complain with Whiplie around. Not while he had his whip with him.
The worst I can think of these Mercenaries do to me for disobeying them, is punch me and kick me around a bit. 8 years a slave in Out Town is more than enough to get used to being beat up all the time, and it certainly beats being whipped so hard you can see your own blood and pieces of your skin splattering all around you.
Whiplie told him the price for me, 850 caps, and suddenly everything around felt different, like the sun suddenly just popped out of nowhere.
The Mercenary said “Deal” .
Even Whiplie seemed surprised, but he then came back to his sinister smile and told them to pay up and go.
The Merc leader spoke to one of his associates “Hector, pay up the Gentlecolt, will you?” So then the payment was being made, and meanwhile Windy Shot was pressing for the last time a few buttons on the detonator of my collar.
He hoofed it over to one of the Mercenaries soon after.
You heard me there. That’s what these slave collars do. They make sure we are obedient. And they’re super effective.
You get a few steps away from the detonator, and the collar explodes and takes with it the heads of whomever wears them.
Off all the slave deaths in Out Town, heads suddenly popping because of the collars was the rarest reason.
For the first time, I was ordered to do something that wasn’t by the Raiders. I’d promised myself that it would be a special memory should it ever happen, but I was just naïve at that point.
The Merc leader ordered me to follow him. I was between him and the rest of the other Mercs.
As we were trotting through the remainder of the town, I too a look back one last time at my other co-slaves. I could see that they were heartbroken and extremely scared that they weren’t bought.
I honestly did felt a bit sorry for them. They had to wait a bit more for their chance of freedom from this place.
What I saw in their faces, was me years before.
Ponies rarely went shopping for us, but on those very few occasions, I always remembered the faces of my other co-slaves that were much more lucky than me at the time.
I guess now I was one of the lucky ones, and I could finally see how I felt back then.
Finally we were outside the front gate as it closed behind us.
I never saw that gate from this side before, and I immediately regretted that I finally did when I noticed what was hanging on it. Skeletons.
Another form of scaring away intruders. And I recognized the collars.
Guess that’s where Bloody Blade ordered to take away the corpses of slaves that starved to death.
Yeah. Bloody Blade never gives up what he owes unless it's for money.
The group of Mercenaries then met with another group.
My new owners really must be swimming in caps, because each of them wore armor and weaponry that looked dangerous. I may know little of bartering, but I know the basics; the better the more expensive, right?
Anyway, the mercenaries were getting ready to leave while they ordered me to wait.
The freaky Ghoul Pony was near me and, I couldn’t help myself. I started looking at him, still couldn’t shake the way he resembled a dead guy out of my head.
His reded-out eye was somehow the scariest part.
But just within seconds, that eye was pointed at me.
He immediately noticed what I was doing and I looked away. When you’re a slave, you are barely allowed to even look unless told otherwise.
Anything that he would then say, would mean something bad for me.
It gave me the biggest of creeps when I heard his growly voice again.
“If you were looking at the eye, than yes, I can still see with it. And yes, I do lack the fear of killing those who piss me off.”
I was so relieved when I didn't had to answer to that. The other Pony-merc who was watching me spoke.
“Cool it, Ghoulie” said the Merc. I did like to think that finally somepony spoke in my defense. “He’s another audition to Red Eye’s slaves, and you know what happens when you kill or even damage something that would eventually belong to him.”
Don’t ask me. Off course I’ve heard off Red Eye.
The self-proclaimed “Savior of the Wasteland”, the leader of the army devoted to saving literally everypony, blah, blah, blah, blah. I’ve spent so much time with insane Raiders that I can tell when somepony’s crazy. But I did not like to say that about this Red Eye.
He sounded to me like somepony who actually tried to make things better in the Wasteland for a change. And now that I was just about to see more of the Wasteland, I’ll see if it is really worth saving. Because in that case, I can’t wait to be sold to him.
I don’t know how HE treats slaves, but he can’t go worse than Bloody Blade, that’s for sure.
Soon, the Mercenary Ponies would finally tell me to move as we started our Journey into the pitches of nothingness.
The Mercs were definitely not in a mood.
“I bucking hate trotting. Can’t we stop somewhere to rest on the way?”
“Good riddance to those damn Raiders. That place was messed up.”
“Buck! This! TROTTING!”
Sure, there was not much to listen to, and off course I wasn’t allowed to start a conversation. However, there was something interesting to look at.
One of the mercs wore a lighter armor, and his Cutie-mark was revealed: A bent knife?
I wasn’t that interested in what that Cutie-mark meant, but it was interesting all in itself to see for the first time a Pony that actually had one.
In Out Town off of course, nopony had cutie-marks, courtesy of the previous owners of the place.
I was curious in what the other mercs could have for their cutie-marks, though it was hard to wonder about that in the Ghoul’s case. His skin was so messed up I doubted his cutie-mark was still there on his ass.
I kept thinking the basic knowledge about those marks. They represent each owners talents. I guess the talents of those mercs would mostly include killing, hunting, buying slaves.
Your guess is as good as mine.
I tried to see some beauties in the scenery around us since I only saw the wasteland from beyond fences and cell bars, but . . . . . . . . . . nothingness.
That’s all that there was out there. Everywhere I looked, everything was burned, there was barely any sunlight, and almost every tree looked like it was just about too eat you with their branches.
I had to spend several hours of Journey like this? It still beats another day in Out Town, that's for sure. But when I imagined my freedom from that place, I always pictured something better.
Maybe the better of this life hasn’t happened yet? Hey, I was still a slave, so why the hell am I saying “freedom”? I suppose that depends on what actually does freedom means? And at that time, freedom meant to me anything but life in Out Town, or death everywhere else.
One of the Mercenary Ponies suddenly passed by me and threw me an apple.
“Here, eat up.” he said as he threw it to me and then looked away. I quickly caught it off course. “From how that bucking shitwhole looked like, I can assume you only ate crap there. I’m sure at least that will be a good change of taste.”
“Uuuh . . . . Thank you sir.” I responded softly. I was surprised.
That would be the first time ever that I thanked somepony holding me by a slave collar and actually meant it.
The Mercenary didn’t seem to care if I was grateful or not. No, it was obvious by now that most if not all of those Mercs cared only about one thing: getting payed, which meant me being delivered to Red Eye in one piece and still in good working condition.
I ate apples before, but ones given by raiders, so off course they were rotten and disgusting. This one definitely tasted better.
Obviously Mercenaries had more brains than raiders about how to eat properly. It’s hard for me to describe how an actual good apple tasted like, but it was quite juicy. It even burned a little.
I imagined that this is what rotten food doesn’t taste like. The Merc than told me that I’ll get something more to eat before we’ll get to our destination so that I don’t starve to death.
I’m not embarrassed to say this to you. I do have a dream deep inside that one day Equestria would become a better place.
Back in Out Town, slaves would constantly have heard the radio station by Red Eye, where he makes promises and assurances that he is the best pony in the world qualified to become a God of new life and all that crap.
Whenever I heard of ponies saying how Equestria can once again be peaceful and filled with Harmony, I hoped that I could live up to that time. For many it sounded naïve to believe that Equestria can be rebuilt, or if it was ever even magically peaceful in the first place.
But in that case, I like being naïve.
Finally, several minutes later, I couldn’t take it anymore. All of this silence. I finally spoke to them. It was really nice to have a chat at least for a second.
All the silence was just so boring.
I did see some irony in it. At slave life all you hear is whipping, other slaves screaming, and raiders calling you names.
“May I, ask a question sir?” I asked to the Merc behind me.
Like all of them, he maintained a not so friendly altitude, but he gave an answer I hoped for.
“Well, that sick buck with the whip sure wasn’t kidding when he described your use. You’re smart to at least ask if you can speak” I made a face that showed him I was scared and I absolutely did not want to annoy anypony.
“What is your question slave?” He answered sarcastically that I started to rethink if I should ask at all.
But I started, so it would probably piss him off if I would answer “Nevermind”.
“I’m sorry sir but, where are we going?”
The mercenary leader heard me asking and he said “You can go ahead and tell him Hector. He’s a slave for life so wherever we are going he’s likely to say he never heard of the place.”
And he was right.
“Were going to the Shattered Hoof re-Educational Facility.”
I never heard of such place, but it did sounded like another slave labor town. So I asked
“What’s that?”
The Mercenary leader than laughed and answered “See? What did I tell you? It’s just a place were going to stop by to rest. I know the guy in charge there.”
I suddenly was terrified when I heard the Ghoul Mercenary talk again.
“Does he really need to know that much?”
I did got what I wanted. A conversation.
“You wanna cut his hoofs off, go ahead if you’re so worried that he, a little damaged colt, can kill us.” The lead-merc answered to him as everypony laughed at the Ghoul.
They obviously found it funny that anypony would consider me dangerous. I was just a little colt afterall.
“But if he’ll bleed out, we will be forced to sell YOU for Red Eye instead. You’re a damn killer and we all know that. I’m sure he can make a use out of Ghoul slaves, as his killers of shits in latrines.”
Everypony laughed once again, and not gonna lie, I laughed a bit too. But I tried to keep it to myself as much as possible. If he wasn’t kidding about that killer part, I did not want to be on the Ghoul’s bad side.
Then the Ghoul Pony finally said something that matched his general creepiness.
“Considering how much I hate all of you, I’d say that joke actually makes sense.”
“Alright, the Dog is barking.” Said the Mercenary who I was pretty sure by now was named Hector. “Let’s stop pissing him off before he actually bites.”
And then, the final sentence of the conversation was said by the lead-merc.
“Fine, you got your answer slave. Now from now on, you don’t speak unless spoken to. Every time you talk without permission, you don’t get to eat. You got that?”
Obviously, I answered “Yes Sir”
So that was it. The new life for me. From eating shit, sleeping in shit, and being treated like shit, I moved into soon becoming a slave living, eating and being treated slightly better than shit.
At least this time I wasn’t used for pleasure again. At least I hoped so until I find out whether that’s a popular sport in Red Eye’s slavery business or not.
I kept convincing myself that no place in Equestria can be worse than Out Town. I even wanted to assure myself of that.
If Red Eye really is the acclaimed savior, I hoped I could maybe tell him one day about Out Town, and perhaps convince him to deal with that place. Whether Red Eye really was insane or not, it didn’t mattered to me. It’s the insanity in Out Town that was the kind I wanted never to exist any longer.
I don’t mind being a slave forever.
Not for somepony who wants to make things better in this world.
This Red Eye, is now the only Pony who at least makes some efforts, even if they might be violent and crazy.
Currently however, I was just hoping that we’ll get to my possible “New home” quickly. Every time I heard the Ghoul even breathing, I was scared.
He was definitely not somepony I’d want as a friend.
Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
“You ain’t got no family, u’ little prick! There ain’t nopony out there who would give a buck about’u!”
“Gideon, you may be one of the longest living Slave Ponies in here, but they will find a way to starve you eventually. Matter of fact they enjoy it more when their slaves die slowly, and you know that!”
“Apparently, everything out there in the Wasteland that crawls, trots, flies, and squats wants to kill you. How is that any better than here?”
“Blood Blade does not enjoy disobedience! Take a look at those slaves as bugs and vultures feast on them! THIS, is what happens to all who disobey or run!”
“One day, you’ll see. I will make them all bleed. I will make them see the hell they’ve created. One day, when I’m free, I will find a way to burn this place in all ways, if it takes me the rest of my worthless life.”
Chapter 2: A Gift
Trotting, trotting, trotting, more trotting, more trotting, even more trotting. Definitely how I imagined my first few days out of Out Town. Though I guess I shouldn’t entirely act like I didn’t see this coming. I mean even while still in that town, it was generally obvious that Wastelands are miles and miles of pure nothingness.
I would have asked the Mercs if we could slow down a bit, but they made it clear before; no talking unless allowed. So instead, I tried to ask for a brake in some other way. I kept showing signs of tiredness as we kept walking. Maybe they seemed careless about whether I live or not, but surely they didn’t want to get to Red Eye empty-hoofed.
“Hey guys! Could we slow down? The little kid here is getting tired.”
It worked.
“Well than carry him, he doesn’t look that heavy!”
Or not. The Merc leader, who during all the trotting I heard him being called Dual Pistols, did not want to stop.
But, now I no longer considered stopping myself, because I saw a light in the distance. Obviously that means a settlement, and a settlement, meant a rest.
But then, Dual said “There’s Junction Town. Remember, we go through a passage in the mountain so we can get to the Facility without provoking those damn Griffons.”
“Lead the way Boss.” Said another one of the Mercs, just at the moment when I was about to say “Are you KIDDING ME!?”
Obviously I didn’t say it out loud, I just thought of it, in my head. But seriously, can you blame me? I was already getting tired of all the trotting, and now, instead of going to a nearest town where I could rest even if I was ordered to rest in mud, we were changing directions towards some high mountains.
I did my fare share of mountain climbing when I was a slave in Out Town, but that can only mean that I absolutely did not enjoyed general mountain climbing.
I did slew down a bit, and finally one of the Mercs rushed me by pushing me and saying “Hey, shit-for-brains! Keep moving. Nopony is gonna carry you if you drop dead.”
I could almost swear that there was another settlement far to the East of our location from which I saw smoke coming. Probably another slaver-settlement. Or maybe just a war-zone for all I cared.
I tried to keep away the very thought about climbing the mountains. I learned long ago in Out Town that if you just keep picturing the first hard steps of an upcoming misery, the beginning is just gonna feel much harder. So instead I focused my mind on something else, clearly forcing myself not to think about the damn climbing or even hiking. As if I wasn’t tired enough.
What else was there to think about? I just heard them saying “Griffons”. Yeah, I know what Griffons are. Some weird species of crossed eagles and lions. I heard that during the war, their purpose wasn’t so different from today. They worked as Mercenaries. Still do today.
A lot of those so-called “Talon Mercenaries” that are all Griffons often made a lot of deals with Blood Blade. They seem to be completely unorganized, since at one time, I hear that there is a group of Talons that have some sense of goodness, and at other times, I hear that they serve Red Eye. Oh Griffons. Who can understand them, right?
And finally, when we reached the foot of the mountains and I was ready for the worst, the lead merc suddenly started pushing away a few rocks from a pile with his magic. He was a unicorn, and apparently a strong one, because those rocks were as big as him, and he moved them with ease.
Suddenly, some kind of cave was revealed. Of course! They said before “Passage through the mountains”. That moment before, I only heard best the word mountain. I was so confused about why we weren’t going to the nearest settlement, that I didn’t heard that part.
Guess, no climbing then? Replaced by darkness.
By then I figured it out. They were simply avoiding that settlement because it was controlled by the Talon Griffons with whom apparently nopony gets along. Also, the Facility was right behind the mountains, so we were taking a shortcut.
The passage stretched like a long tunnel, and the deeper it went the darker it was. The lead merc and the two other unicorn ones lighted up their horns and, while I wished everypony else in our group had torches, the path was now decently visible.
That reminded me of another thing back from Out Town. By now you may be surprised that I mention Out Town so much. Well, can you really blame me? You know that I’ve spent my whole life there. I am not remotely familiar with anything else in existence than being a slave in that place.
The one thing back there that this tunnel reminded me off, was “The Coffin”. A form of punishment designed by Whiplie. Slaves are basically just buried alive for a given time, and Raiders leave it up to our luck’s for us to survive. If we’re lucky, the raiders dig us out before we run out of breath, and if not, they obviously dig out an already buried corpse. Makes no difference for them. It’s just general fun. I was punished like this only once, after I accidently dropped a shovel on Whiplie’s hoof.
Anyhow, the passage was getting darker, and was I getting more scared? I tried to contain myself, but memories of being buried alive aren’t really the kind that you can just forget. I kept begging fate “Please, don’t let this be my permanent coffin. I’ll live with it being my second and last, but please not in the dying way”.
I did get a response to my silent begging. I think by that time we were still halfway through the whole passage. We heard sounds far in the tunnel ahead of us. Growling sounds. I didn’t took any guesses what it was, but Hector behind me did.
“Hey, Ghoulie, please tell me that was you” He asked.
Why was it that he was asking the creepy Ghoul if it was him that was making growling noises? Well, he was a Ghoul.
“Oh balls.”
That’s what I said out loud as I realized what the sounds were. Feral Ghouls.
There they were, far away already looking at us and barking like dogs. Not only did they decayed, they were still covered with decaying clothes, and at least two of them had decaying armor on them.
The mercs around me, started preparing their weapons. Long was I watching their weapons and battle-saddles as we were going through the desert. The Merc Boss used his telekinesis to pull out two pistols. They looked a bit rusty but still in good condition. It was reliefing that I could say the same about the other weapons the Mercs had. The three other Unicorn Mercs pulled out weapons with their magic. Two of them had simple Assault rifles and one of them lifted a Combat Shotgun. The weapons I saw the other Earth Pony mercs were another assault rifle, another pistol and a Brush Gun. And yes, the one with the pistol used his mouth. I’ve heard that Earth Ponies like me are considered weird for using their mouths to shoot. Well, for small guns like pistols, yes, but for rifles, they were always specifically designed for hoof usage.
All the mercs were getting into shooting positions and the growling noises were getting louder. Hector pushed me against the wall, and started warning me.
“Remember that if you try to run, that collar blows your head off, but if you’ll still try to run, I will shoot you in your hoofs and let the ferals right there feast in you before the collar does the job, you got that?!”
I quickly nodded a few speedy times, not just because he threatened me. The growling was getting closer and louder, and I never saw Feral Ghouls before. I just heard about them when I occasionally wondered things about Normal Ghouls.
Speaking of which, I wondered what the Ghoul was armed with. Then I saw him standing on his back hoofs like the other Earth Pony mercs, and from under his duster, he pulled out a sniper rifle. For a slave I had fair knowledge about weapons. I saw the whole armory in Out Town when I occasionally worked in the ammo factory the raiders had there. I saw heavy weapons like flamethrowers, and missile launchers, and even energy weapons.
The Boss was the first to start shooting. I quickly got over how loud the shots were, so while I still hugged the wall, I took a look at what laid ahead of the tunnel. There I saw them. The REAL zombies. They looked nothing like regular Ghouls. Those ferals . . . . . . well, then I realized that this is a good name. They growled and growled, and were clearly getting angrier with each next shot they received.
But, when I saw them, than . . . . . . Wow, the Ghoul in our group was still scary, because they looked ugly, but they at least still had their skins. But they were really, really wrinkly as if it was decaying. Ghoulification as of then, looked like something much worse than death for me.
The Mercs continued to shoot with extreme ferocity and they didn’t seem to be scared at all. Empty bullets and shotgun shells were piling up under out hoofs. Hell, the mercs were even carefully paying attention at their “gun-having” advantage, because they were not all shooting at once. Dual and few of the others stood right in the front and every time they needed to reload, the ones behind them were replacing them in the bullet storming. The Ghoul Merc during this whole time was in the very back making every bullet count. But the bigger distraction during this time, was seeing how many of those feral ghouls were coming.
Used-up ammo and magazines weren’t the only things piling up on the floor in the tunnel. The ghouls were dropping pretty easily, and I saw some of their heads popping. But more than just heads were eventually going to pop.
Dual suddenly lost his coolness and shouted “AW BUCKING SHIT! A GLOWING ONE!” .
A glowing what? And then, as if seeing the tunnel sprayed with radioactive bucking blood wasn’t bad enough, light filled it up. Light from a literal glowing feral Ghoul.
Glowing ones are a rare, dangerous kinds of Ghouls. They are disposed to radioactivity so much, that it makes their entire flesh glow, and they become sources of radioactivity themselves. And one of them was charging right at as, probably getting ready to emit a radioactive explosion from himself.
“KILL IT! KILL IT NOW BEFORE IT GETS CLOSER!” shouted Dual. And for good reason. Radiation acts as something of a healing force for Ghouls, feral or not. Glowing ones can definitely heal themselves and other Ghouls around them, when they emit Radiation out of themselves at will.
And then I realized what mistake the Mercs did. They all fired at the same time. They didn’t considered that they will ALL need time to reload. That’s why the Glowing didn’t go down quickly. Only Dual and two others had reloaded by the time he was just 30 feet away from us.
The Mercs finally were almost as scared as me. Dual jumped to the side before the Ghoul could finally grab his neck and most possibly rip it off. Others weren’t so lucky,
Including me.
Everypony did fired just enough at him to kill him, but what was too late for, was for stopping him from make us bath in radiation.
All I saw a second later was just green. You know what. The green-ness of radioactivity. The Glowing Ghoul, just before he stopped galloping at us and stopped breathing, did exactly what Dual feared. He emitted so much radiation I could feel my internal organs acting funny, and that’s beside me becoming nauseous.
After all the green was gone, I saw everything tripled. I figured that this was my mind being exposed to the ordeal. I heard the other Mercs coughing and while there were much more of them now, I could tell all of them were almost as nauseous as me.
I was starting to lose consciousness.
So this is it, huh? My first day in life out of the Town of misery and torture turns out to be a one-way trip to most certain doom, where I die in what I assumed, is the most typical death in the history of first-timers of the Wasteland. I remember I said I don’t mind dying, but do you think I meant dying so quickly? And without doing something outside of the chains?
However, just as I was breaking my nose while collapsing on the floor, I felt someone grabbing me. And that’s all I remember, because afterwards, I just passed out.
Before I even opened my eyes, I was breathing in smoke. I woke up by a campfire. That could have only meant that I was out for a long time. Unfortunately, not enough time to be out of the tunnel apparently.
I come to my senses and I see that the campfire is in the middle of the tunnel that still seem to be going for miles in both directions. That wasn’t the worst part though.
The Pony I saw then sitting opposite me by the fire, was the one that grabbed me and probably saved me from radiation poisoning. But no. It wasn’t a Pony, it was the Ghoul.
The exact same Ghoul that freaked me out during this whole journey. Off course he survived this. Non-feral Ghouls are also immune to radiation poisoning.
He was just sitting there, staring at me, still in his duster, with his gun concealed. He looked different than before in way. His blood was glowing. Must have been the exposure to the radiation that caused that. You probably think that like many Ghouls, he was looking at me like he was about to eat me alive, but having spent time with some of the most bucked-up Raiders ever, I can recognize a cannibalistic glare. That wasn’t one.
After about five seconds of silence, the freaky Ghoul Pony finally spoke.
“I don’t recommend any fast movements. That thing on your hoof is saving your life right now as we speak, so don’t shake it off.”
He was referring to a bag of RadAway that I had inserted with a needle to my left hoof. Even in these time, nopony ever gets used to needles for the first time, but he warned me that this is healing me, so with that in mind, all I did was just get a little surprised. The thought that I had all that radioactive shit out of my body was very reassuring.
I was so confused. This Ghoul Pony obviously wanted me alive for some reason. However, surely it wasn’t just out of kindness, because I suddenly realized I still had my slave-collar on. He said that the thing on my hoof was saving my life as we speak. Well the other thing on my neck was probably counting down to zero the clock of my life as we speak. Maybe he didn’t figured out how to take it off? Either way, the rule of silences probably didn’t applied anymore.
While he was still looking at me with his, scary dead eyes, I asked him questions.
“What the hell just happened? Are we the only ones who made it?”
“Don’t tell me that you already started to like your new owners” He replied. He has made it clear before that he doesn’t like them.
He continued talking “Yeah, the others are probably coughing up their own blood right now. There was enough radiation there to make them less able to gallop.”
So they were all dead? I didn’t know if I should be happy about this or not. They may have been mercenaries that were just selling me later on, but now being a slave to a Ghoul? Probably as a backup snack? At this point I was more and more to ask why I was still alive?
“And . . . . . why are we still alive?”
With each next answer he gave, he was making it clearer that he doesn’t like me.
“You mean why didn’t I leave you back there so I wouldn’t have to share some of the loot?”
He then pointed his head at a bunch of bags. Those were most if not all of the Mercs’s saddlebags. I could tell before that they were probably full of food and drinks. I reminded myself how long I was possibly out of consciousness, and plus the amount of bags, the Ghoul must have returned for them a few times. That made it more obvious that all the Dual and all the other Mercenary Ponies were dead.
“You’re lucky I grabbed this too, or you literally wouldn’t be in one piece.”
He said that as he was showing me the detonator to my collar. All the more reason for me not to run away. And I did considered doing so, because first of all, I was stuck with the Ghoul Merc of all the others that were back there, and second of all, the freedom of going anywhere without somepony shooting at you was still a beautiful thought for me at that time. Little did I know that this happens in the Wasteland a lot, whether your with somepony or not in your travels.
At this point, I had to risk he wouldn’t be upset if I asked impolitely.
“What do you want from me?”
He answered my question while putting the detonator under his duster and still giving me the scary look.
“Me? Nothing. Somepony else I know wants you.”
Does this mean he still wants to deliver me to this Red Eye? That’s what I thought, but the answer he gave me was much different. Though it made it clear that apparently he doesn’t work for Red Eyes army either.
“I don’t know if it makes any difference to you, but no. It’s not that asswhole Red Eye.”
I responded “Well, than who is it?”
Then he suddenly got a lot less scary when he explained everything.
“Alright, I’ll lay it all out for you.” He stood up and came a little closer “First off, are you familiar with what I putted on your other hoof?”
He was pointing at my other hoof, than I noticed that he putted something on it that would eventually mean a consolation for my collar.
A strange piece of metal with a terminal screen on it, glowing in an amber color, with a strange picture of a pony in it. Upon seeing it, I didn’t freak out the same way I did when I saw the RadAway inserted in my veins. I haven’t learned yet at the time that this was an actual PipBuck.
“Well, the way you’re looking at it, I guess the answer is ‘no’”
It was true, I wasn’t familiar with them at the time. And it was kind of stupid that I didn’t realized first, it did say right next to the screen, “PipBuck model 3000”. He then explained it all to me.
You see, when the Great War started, the Stables weren’t the only things built for the purpose of saving life from the bombs. Since the Stables were basically giant underground shelters, all occupants of each Stable out there were given special devices so that each one can learn easier on the most basic of needs. Those devices were the PipBucks; another scrap of miracle created from the combined forces of advanced science and great magic. They can monitor each owner’s health, equipment, level of radiation, and even calculate the possibility for hunger and dehydration. They can also be used for help when tinkering with other technology and enchanted items. Those were just almost half of all the magical crap those techno-magical miracle-do-ers could do. And now, one of them was mine.
Just as I just explained it to you, the Ghoul Pony did it the same way to me. He gave partially a little history lesson about how hard all these years ago Ponykind tried to maintain what little population it had left. I’m sure he was annoyed by the fact he had to tell me EVERYTHING.
“Thank you? I guess. For giving me something that . . . . .”
You have to admit, a PipBuck is one of the greatest things you can find in the Wastelands, so off course I wanted to say ‘awesome’. Find, but not use. You think you can just put on any PipBuck out there and use it like an abandoned terminal? It’s more complicated than that.
The Ghoul then continued.
“You’ll have plenty of time and opportunities to learn how to use it and find out what each button does. Right now, I want to finish explaining to you why I’m risking that much to save your sorry ass.”
I was looking forward to start pressing all the buttons, but I listened.
“Remember how I said, that somepony I know wants you alive? And that it wasn’t Red Eye?”
I nodded, and then he pulled out from his pocket a little holodisk. Holodisks were special message disks that can be listened to with PipBucks.
“This is the message from that Pony, and it is to you.”
He gave the holodisk to me, and it wasn’t easy for me to take it from his, rotting smelly Ghoul hands.
I quickly figured out how to play holodisks on my new “toy”. I just inserted it in the right place, and all the buttons were marked “Stats”, “Items”, and “Data”. I picked “Data”, selected “Notes”, and played the message.
It was a recorded message, and by the voice I recognized it was a Mare. One that sounded strangely familiar.
Gideon, Listen very closely.
Yes, I know your name, and I know much more than that about you.
If you’re listening to this, then that means that you are finally out of Out Town, and that your still alive as I always hoped. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I was a slave in that place just like you. Several years ago I was sold to some sick ponies, and I used that opportunity to break free.
Now, just a few days ago I’ve sent my friend Deadtrot here to get you out of there. I am now a free pony. I kind of live now as a member of a vigilante group of Ponies who like me want to make a difference in the Wasteland, fight for good. The Ponies of the Wasteland have been bleeding long enough, and we bring light and hope to them. With that in mind, you’re probably wondering why I’ve sent Deadtrot only for you and not every other slave in that horrible place. It’s because I care for your life and freedom most of all.
This is very hard for me to say it straight like that, and I know that you might feel angry. And once I tell you, you’ll have every right to hate me. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want a better life for you.
Gideon . . . . . . my name is Sunlight Flower . . . . . . I . . . . I’m your Mother.
Ever since I have left Out Town, I’ve been fighting for my own freedom so that one day I could fight for yours as well. Even back then I did all I could to save you from the hell that you undoubtedly lived through. But the Raiders of Out Town don’t just enjoy physical pain of their slaves.
I still feel all matter of pain myself, not just because you were taken away from me, but because right now I couldn’t come for you myself. You have to understand that it just had to be another way. The Ponies with which I live right now, they need me too, and also, if I were to come for you in Out Town myself, the Raiders would recognize me. They would hang us both.
Now look, I know Deadtrot personally. He’s also a member of our group. I know that he wouldn’t fail to bring you to us. Yes, that’s right. He will help you get to us.
Our hideout is within the ruins of a place called Ponyville. The PipBuck that you’re using now, will help you in your travel. Learn how to use it, and Deadtrot will meanwhile teach you on how to use a weapon and how to survive. Listen to everything he says, and try to learn to trust him.
He’s your new best friend now.
I know that this is a lot to throw in at somepony at once, but I believe in you, and with a PipBuck of your own, and Deadtrot as your guide, you WILL make it. I know you will. I know in my heart that despite all these years, you are still alive. And anypony who survived Out Town can most certainly survive the Equestrian Wasteland.
When you’ll get to us . . . . . then you can start asking questions. Gideon, I repeat . . . . . I do not expect you to forgive me. You have every right not to love me. I’m obviously not a great Mother, if I let my baby to be raised in a town of slavery. But at least you’ll be safe here, and you will have a better life, than one in chains.
Goodluck . . . . . . I love you.
Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Chapter 3: Welcome to the Wasteland
“Me? Nothing. Somepony else I know wants you.”
“Oh, good choice, good choice. This ones right here, he’s one of the strongest little filly slaves we have here.”
“Enjoy life outside maggot. Daddy Whiplie will miss your pretty ass.”
“You wanna cut his hoofs off, go ahead if you’re so worried that he, a little damaged colt, can kill us.”
“The PipBuck that you’re using now, will help you in your travel. Learn how to use it, and Deadtrot will meanwhile teach you on how to use a weapon and how to survive. Listen to everything he says, and try to learn to trust him. He’s your new best friend now.”
“I . . . . I’m your Mother.”
“He was definitely not somepony I’d want as a friend.”
“Goodluck . . . . . . I love you.”
Chapter 3: Welcome to the Wasteland
So I wasn’t always a little, worthless, slave, piece of shit that everpony including me always thought nopony cared about, huh? No.
I was always a little, worthless, slave, piece of shit that only one pony in the entire Equestrian Wasteland cared about. Or maybe just claimed to have.
As it turns out, that somepony was my Mother.
After the message ended, I was shocked.
I widened my eyes, I moaned, and I was just sitting without the slightest movement. That’s how surprised I was to hear, that my Mom was actually alive, and that she would actually still care about me.
You would think that despite all that confusion I felt at that very moment, I would feel some kind of relief or happiness to find out that there was still some family left for me to have in this bucked-up world.
But, unfortunately, at that time, 8 years of life in Out Town was still in my head, and still influenced my judgment of things.
My Mom, this Sunlight Flower , may have made it pretty clear that she loves her only son, and that she had perfect reason not to come to free me herself, but some anger was in me.
As far as I cared after hearing that message, a Mother was nothing to me but just a pony who gives birth to you.
So I could care less that I was her son that she still loved, because she pretty much made sure that I live the way I did. And believe me; today, not being born into this world is an act of mercy.
Being born in Out Town, THAT’S the worst place to which you can bring a child to.
That was what I thought among many things while still sitting there trying to put my mind straight.
In the end I honestly didn’t knew what to think of this whole scenario.
All I knew is that a new life was possible for me out there in the Wasteland and that all I had to do is listen to everything my “new friend” Deadtrot said, so that I could get there.
A friendship with him, is a hell all on its own as you will soon find out.
“Are you done already? Any more time, and I’ll motivate you to move by going ahead myself and leave you far behind.”
He finally spoke for the first time after the audio recording ended and it was just another rude sentence that brought me back to the memories of Out Town. Figures.
I putted down my hoof on which I had the PipBuck, and I listened to him.
He finally started schooling me on survival. Lesson one: handling the PipBuck.
“I’m guessing that electronics aren’t your strongest skills, so I’ll talk you through using the PipBuck as clearly as I can, but you better pay strict attention, because I have little patience and I won’t repeat myself.”
I gave him an “okay” and then tried to distance myself as much as possible from pissing him off.
He may have been my New Friend, but there’s was still a lot I didn’t knew about him or his temper. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.
The stench of ghoulified blood was all over him, and I was still getting used to the sight of his skinned body.
I bet even the flies didn’t liked all that ghouliness. They probably knew more than me about a possible risk of radiation or catching some weird disease from Ghouls.
We began working on the PipBuck. Three big buttons on the front read “STATS”, “DATA”, and “EQUIPMENT”. We started with “STATS”.
It was showing the current state of my body; all my limbs, head, tail, and torso were fine, apart from obvious exhaustion.
I switched to “RAD” and it showed how much radiation was in me. Luckily thanks to the RadAway still in my other hoof, it was decreasing.
Deadtrot showed me when should I be worried about my level of radiation. He said that beyond 100 would be bad enough. For normal Ponies anyway.
He was a ghoul, so radiation didn't bother him.
I think it's safe to say that those little PipBucks, REALLY impressed me.
The most advanced piece of technology I ever saw in Out Town were only some energy weapons, and terminals connecting to torture devices, and infirmaries whenever the Riaders were short on slaves.
I've looked forward to see how much other awesome stuff this thing could do. But, fate, destiny, luck or whatever controlled my life then, were still against me.
A familiar sound came way back from the tunnels behind us, from which I assumed this whole time was where we crawled from.
I further disliked Deadtrot when he responded to the growling sounds
“Hey, hey, hey. Looks like they want a desert.” He said as he picked up a torch from the fire.
And that was our hint to start Lesson 3: Combat.
Deadtrot then took off the RadAway from my hoof, quite painfully. Maybe every minute counted at that moment that he didn’t want to waste time being more gentle, or maybe he was just a careless asswhole.
Afterwards he pressed another button on my PipBuck, right above the screen, and the PipBuck started emitting light. Those things had rad-counting clocks, they determined your health, off course they also had flashlights.
It was now enough light for me to see farther. It will definitely help in the upcoming fight.
He then gave me a pistol. I recognized that it was one of the Mercs’s. I hated the thought that their saliva were still on it. Probably taken right from their corpses. Now I had to put it in my mouth to shoot it. But honestly, I’ve had worse things in my mouth when I was a slave.
It was a heat of the moment and I had to think fast. That was pretty much what I heard must happen in combat; to have a steady awareness of the whole situation.
Perhaps it worked, or perhaps I was just panicked. I suddenly got full awareness of the whole area. The tunnel was bigger, the ceiling was higher, and train trolleys were around us. That’s why the ground felt so uncomfortable, we were sitting this whole time on tracks.
We were no longer in a tunnel, we were in a giant-ass cave, and the tunnel from which we came from was right in front of us, now swarming with more Feral Ghouls.
I tried to think fast, but the only thing I did next is letting Deadtrot know the most important fact in the current situation.
“Mister, I never fired a gun before!”
He showed little surprise to that, and responded,
“Perfect time to learn then”
After I ‘armed myself’ with it, and Deadtrot figured I couldn’t talk with this gun in my mouth, he finally started helping.
The tunnel entrance had a switch next to it. He threw the torch to the tunnel so we could see them coming and then he pushed the button. Suddenly a giant gate blocked the tunnel entrance.
He apparently knew it would take me a while to learn how to shoot this thing using only my tongue. So blocking the path, DEFINETLY bought me some time.
“You better figure out how to shoot, QUICKLY." He yelled, "This gate is many years old and its rusty. Judging by the amount of growling, there’s enough of them there to push it off completely.”
For a second I pictured the Ghouls doing as he said and then jumping at me. I did as he advised, and quickly started looking for the trigger of the pistol with my tongue.
Deadtrot meanwhile climbed a latter to the top of a nearby rubble of rocks, just right of where I stood. I thought that meant for us to run. However, what he did next made me think more and more about whether Ponies can be better than raiders out in this wretched Wasteland.
Before I could climb the latter, he pulled it up.
He just pulled it and placed up there with him, leaving me down there within the range of the pony-eaters.
I spat out the pistol from my mouth and screamed.
“WHAT THE BUCK ARE YOU DOING!? WHAT ABOUT ME!?!?”
Before he could possibly think of SOME answer, he was interrupted by loud racket at the gate. The ferals finally spotted us, and seeing that I’m still on the ground level, they started reaching out their hoofs at me.
Their growling was sending more than just chills down my spine.
“Worry about that later. THEY are your bigger problem now.” Deadtrot finally answered my question. Though not the answer I hoped for.
Just when I screamed "WHAT ABOUT YOU!?!?" , he suddenly vanished, like he just went and left me to die.
You can't possibly imagine how much I suddeny hated him for that.
Wasn't it bad enough for him to have the detonator to my collar?
But then another loud noise of rusty metal came from the gate. The ghouls were beginning to break it off the locks. The possibility of my organs becoming breakfest was getting closer.
It’s general knowledge that feral ghoul ponies don’t have much basic knowledge. They were just pushing themselves against the rusty metal bars, like they thought they could come through it like ghosts. Apparently they felt little pain. Those WERE technically already dead Ponies.
I thought I could climb the rubble. I tried, but without that later I was just clawing the rocks. Climbing it with just my hoofs wasn't possible.
I quickly picked up the pistol I just spat out and I came back to trying figuring out the core concept of shooting a gun with your mouth.
I finally felt the trigger.
I didn't even aimed first. I just felt the trigger and pulled it.
This time, the sound of a loud bang was easy to overcome, but the force of the shot almost pushed my away one step. I just fire it, and I felt my whole body shaking for a second. And my teeth? Shit, how my teeth hurt when it happened.
Off course, I missed. The bullet just went at the bar of the gate, right next to one of their heads.
Sure, the impact of the shot hurt in my mouth, but I just kept firing, cause being eaten alive would hurt even more.
I was scared shitless, that simple. Four more shots went and they all missed too.
I stopped thinking about firing relentlessly for a moment, and this time putted a bit more focus into aiming.
This focus then triggered something in my PipBuck that in a matter of time would later become my greatest advantage in all my battles.
Things suddenly slowed down. I didn't do aything then but just kept going at it.
Everything was literally frozen in time, and the Ghouls were easier for me to kill. Numbers appeared all around them. I targeted on of their heads. 59%. I fired two bullets and both hit him. One right in the forehead, the other got right at his left eye. Then he was just hanging by the bars.
That was S.T.A.T.S that I was using. Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell. All PipBucks had those special spells on them, and as you can surely figure out, this was a special spell that allowed anypony who wears a PipBuck to literally target their enemies easier, whether it would be from a firing weapon or using a melee weapon.
It simply freezes time in your mind, and all you can do then is target and shoot. It even calibrates in percentages the possibility of hitting the target's body part.
The company that created PipBucks, Stable-Tec even produced them in a way that would work even for non-unicorn Ponies, and that's a very good idea, since those PipBucks used the combined powers of Science AND magic to make that spell happen.
Finally, something good happens. I aimed the pistol again and the S.T.A.T.S started saving my life again.
Targeted another one of those trotting corpses. Target; torso, 61%. Three shots. Fire.
First shot, hits, second one, hits, Ghoul starts feeling the pain. Third shot, he dies. Now there was just two of them left.
Unfortnetly, by the time there was only two of them left, the gate was already broken off a few hinges. Two Ghouls, was still enough to break off the gate.
I quickly tried to trigger S.T.A.T.S again with my focus, but it didn't worked. I quickly figured out that this spell must have some kind of limited usage.
So, while I pictured again the possibility of my demise, I aimed as well as I could. No fancy spells to save me.
I just narrowd closed my left eye and narrowed the right one. Finally had one Ghoul head in the middle of the sight of my right eye, the one under which the barrel was.
I pulled the trigger, and click. No fire.
You know what that means; out of bullets.
Guess it's up to 10 bullets per magazine?
The Ghoul duo then finally broke down the gate. One of them tripped over along with it, while the other just ran straight at me.
I just looked at him running. His bloody-red eyes opened wide, and his throat extended, so that he could just in a second sink his disgusting yellow teeth into my face.
At that moment time suddenly froze too. That wasn't S.T.A.T.S though, it was me standing petrified as I felt death coming.
Why didn't I ran?
Good question. I guess that's what fear does to you when you experience it for the first time, in lengths THAT big.
To think that I would miss Out Town. In there I would have been eaten eventually too, but the Riaders at least want their food dead already. That's as much dignity as you can expect from each of them.
I saw the Ghoul now being just inches away from me. So close I could hear his breath pounding for meat.
I would finally die knowing only that the Wasteland is no better than Out Town, that my Mother was out there somewhere sending selfish monsters to save me, and that the pistol carries only 10 lousy bullets.
Eyes closed.
Teetch clenched.
SPLAT!!!!!
Finally I had blood in my eyes.
It wasn't my blood though.
And the sound wasn't my head being torn appart. It was the Ghoul's head blowing up.
Then all of a sudden, the Ghoul was lying underneath me, without his head, and blood pouring out where it should have been.
What remained of it was all over me.
I'm pretty sure I even got some of that blood in my mouth too.
Instead of being frightingly terrified I was now frightingly surprised, though still petrified.
Finally I snapped out of it when I heard a familiar voice calling.
"WAKE UP YOU IDIOT!!!"
I looked to where the noise came from, it was Deadtrot. He came back.
It was he who blew the Ferals head off.
I saw him standing there on the same rubble, holding his sniper rifle with the barrel was still smoking.
Did he suddenly had a change of heart?
He was giving me the same "You're so useless" face expression, right before he looked at the other Ghoul standing up and charging at me.
He then immedeatly aimed his rifle again and took the shot.
Blood and body parts were again flying, and this time it was one of the hoofs.
The ghoul had now three of them left, and was crawling towards me, verly slowly.
Ignoring how oddly impressive it was that he needed just a split-second to aim and shoot, I was now just confused to what side on was my poorly matched friend. And that's exactly what I asked him.
"WHAT THE BUCK ARE YOU DOING!? WHO THE ACTUAL BUCK ARE YOU HELPING OUT HERE!?"
"Shut your dumb ass mouth and use this!" he answered while he holstered his weapon and threw me a sledgehammer.
"Finish off that thing and I'll answer your questions, and a reminder, I still have the detonator to your collar."
Deadtrot said it while showing it to me. I completely forgot that I still had my collar.
I left the thinking for a bit later and just did what he said.
I picked up the sledgehammer. This weapon was actually easier for me to handle. I've had a lot of experience with it in my life; turning big rocks into little rocks.
I didn't hesitate. I lifted the hammer in my mouth, and I turned the ghouls head into a squished apple.
Who would have thought that smashing heads with hammers is easier than smashing actual rocks.
I was looking forward to Deadtrot's explanation as he jumped from the rubble and approached me. I didn't demand the explanation though. He did still had the detonator.
He took a brief look at the dead ghouls at the tunnel that I managed to kill with S.T.A.T.S, and turned to me saying.
"Well, the PipBuck is working, but you're gonna need more practice with that spell."
I was going to respond sarcastically, but remembering that he still had that bucking detonator, I was back to doing my damnest not to piss him off.
"So um . . . . . Am I to assume you had this whole thing under control? And you knew all this would happen?"
"I expected most of it to happen, but clearly I have given you yoo much credit." He answered as he started reloading the pistol I used. Possibly recalling the fact that I waste too much bullets shooting blind.
"Simply put, I wanted to see if you could handle yourself."
And that was the overall answer he gave me. Didn't help much so I asked while still acting insuperior to him.
"I-I guess that m-makes sense, but why was leaving me alone neccessary?"
Then all of a sudden, he dropped his 'Don't buck with me, I won't kill you altitude', and answered.
"Well, notice how you were scared more of being alone. You acted more quickly. You aknowledged the possibility of a slow and painful death, and you responded by trying to stop that from happening."
He wasn't really wrong. I was seeing those Ghouls and all I could think of was running, or killing.
"I know this from first-hoof experience: fear, is a hell of a motivation to act."
That made me hate him even more.
I was considering a reply in form of a "Well, you sure have a funny way of teaching survival." But at the same time, his crazy philosophy kicked in. I was affraid of him doing anything with me with that detonator and that made me stop thinking of punching him myself. I wanted to do it so badly.
Suddenly I thought, that this chosen guide-ghoul-pony is really no different from the Out-Town radiers.
If this is really the way he wants me to learn about the wasteland, than surviving in it with HIM is really no different from living in Out-Town with raiders. Both him and them do try to keep me alive, but at many times risk killing me anyway.
I guess the difference is that the Raiders would do it for fun. But he does it to teach survival.
I'm not sure I want to learn survival that way. But the collar was a constant reminder that it is not up to me.
He was probably trying to read my mind as he finished reloading the pistol.
"You're not complaining. Good. Teaching you survival is hard enough as it is. So do me a favor."
"Yeah, what?" I answered as if I was still talking to a master.
"There will be many more lessons from now on. You ever fail to pay attention, and you will pay with it with your own life. Because in the Wasteland, every mistake you make can very well be your last."
I considered this fact.
"You want me to deliver you to your dearest Mommy? Whatever, What. Ever. I say, you do. Otherwise, I can might as well kill you now. Believe me when I say, I wouldn't regret it."
And that's another update to my life in the Wasteland.
My fate as of now, was in the hoofs of a crazy delusional Ghoul, who apperently has only his own life to care about. That is, if Ghouls qualify as living things, or just walking corpses.
Footnote: Level Up.
Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Chapter 4: Darkness and Tight Spaces
“I wanted to see if you could handle yourself.”
“As far as I cared after hearing that message, a Mother was nothing to me but just a pony who gives birth to you.”
“I’m guessing that electronics aren’t your strongest skills, so I’ll talk you through using the PipBuck as clearly as I can.”
“You're gonna need more practice with that spell.”
“You sure have a funny way of teaching survival.”
“Fear, is a hell of a motivation to act.”
Chapter 4: Darkness and Tight Spaces
As of now, coffins and dark caves have a lot in common in my book. Me and Deadtrot were finally off to find a way out of the tunnels, leaving the rotting corpses behind us.
I was thinking that we had to search the bodies for something useful, but what's to find on living zombies? The one who accompanied me now was the only one here who carried something useful.
Most of what Deadtrot carried were weapons, and saddle-bags full of survival; medicine, ammo, food, everything. Most of the weapons he carried to sell them later.
All I carried was what Brahmins are usually made to carry, which was mostly just junk that general store owners crave. I continued to see little to no benefit of my freedom from Out Town.
The light from my PipBuck and another torch Deadtrot carried lightet our path.
Unsurprisingly, we were passing by a bunch of skeletons. Deadtrot said that they were of Ponies from before the war who hoped this long tunnel would save them from the bombs. Whether it did or didn't, I guess the answer is pretty obvious.
At least they didn't died in vain. They can now house plenty of homeless rats with their corpses. In the Wasteland, even rats have a hard time finding a home. One in which they can last for very long anyway.
Unfortunetly, I myself am a different kind of rat that cannot live inside a corpse. It's bad enough I'm guided by one.
Speaking of corpses, we eventually found a fresh one.
We found a pony, with a dark green coat that was slowly going dead-pale. And his mane was as messy as mine. Several bullets in his chest, and lying faced down in a pool of blood. And there was some of it on the wall too.
"Another great citizen of the Wasteland?" I asked Deadtrot with little sympathy for the poor guy.
"One of many" he answered while he was searching and examining the body. "Finding a pony who was killed the natural way, that's normal, but look, his throat is slit open." I noticed it really was, and THAT'S why the pool of blood was so damn big. And when Deadtrot mentioned the "natural way", I immedeatly figured out it was by being shot.
Examining the wound on the neck, I was thinking that for sure Deadtrot was gonna start drinking from it. The Ghoul instead told me what he figured out from the wounds.
"He was shot, but not killed. Old rusty bullets combined with an old used-up weapon tend to just seriously wound you but not kill you instantly. So he's finished off with a knife to his throat, to die slowly. I recognize that sadistic style. More Raiders"
And I was so glad I would never see Raiders ever again.
"They must have set themselves up a camp in the tunnel up ahead."
You need a reminder? 7 Years of slave-life under the Raiders. It was a very, VERY inviting thought that I would finally get to kill some of those cunts myself.
Nedless to say, I got excited for the idea. I'm sure Deadtrot will like it that I'm finally eager to kill. I thought so as he was reaching for his suddle-bags for weapons. I was carrying the heavy equipment, but off course he wouldn't let me have a gun . . . . . . . until now, that is.
We had plenty of guns in the saddle bags.
Deadtrot loaded his sniper rifle while I stood like a dumb puppy waiting for a biscuit.
When he finished loading it, he finally looked at me with his glowing red, dead eye, and reached for a pistol. I figured it was the same pistol I used on those zombies before. By then I finally knew how to reload a pistol.
Deadtrot was pretty stricked about me using a weapon though, with him being close in range.
With a threatening grin, he gave me a warning,
"There's no telling right now if we can sneak our way past the Raiders, or shoot our way through them. But if you're gonna waste every single bullet, or worse, shoot me instead of them, and I'll detonate the collar."
Every time I remmembered that I still have this bucking collar on, I was feeling more at home. The home I always hoped I'd burn down some day.
Whatever he was ever telling me, he never seemed to have considered a scenario in which he wouldn't live. But imagining scenarios in which I was dead, seemed disturbingly easy for him to picture. Was he really that arrogant? Or proud?
Regardless, he allowed me to have my own gun for now.
The next thing Deadtrott pulled out of the bags was a leather armor. I wondered where he got it from.
He answered after I aksed, "While you were unconscious, I came back to where we last saw the others alive, and grabbed whatever was useful. I also grabbed one of their armors before it got irradiated."
I suddenly had another reminder of ghoulification 101: Ghouls are unique to radiation poisoning.
Deadtrott then ripped off the sleeves and threw me what was left of the armor. The sleeves would obviously be a problem since this armor was before weared by someone bigger than me.
Right after I've putted the armor on, I had the pistol in my mouth again. Right after I was sure where the trigger was, my Zombie companion was ready.
"Follow me" he said without any other instructions. He must have expected me to be as obedient as the slave I still technically was thanks to the collar.
We went ahead for a while. The air was getting annoyingly more suffocating as we went, it was getting harder to breathe. It might have been the fact that this was a long tunnel abandoned for years. Maybe the smell of corpses rottet out the air, but Deadtrott assumed that the air was mostly contaminated with drugs. Believe me, when you first won't recognize Raider territory with displayed corpses, you'll recognize it with the smell of drugs.
I recognized the smell of each drug out there. Drug-manufacturing was actually one of the most easiest jobs I had in Out Town. I still remmember how to make them.
I smelled Mint-als, Dash, Rage, even some Buck. Just smelling all of that at once is enough to give you a high. Luckily it still wasn't enough for me. Working long enough in the Out Town drug-labs made sure of that. And speaking of drug-labs, we were getting close to one.
Deadtrott stopped first. He then stopped me with his left hoof. "Mines" he said before I could respond. Then I noticed what he meant.
I was so glad I still had my PipBuck light on. Landmines were all over in front of us. Another step and I could have started hearing beeps. That's the landmines saying, "Have a nice afterlife".
Not today . . . . . . . . . . hopefully.
We hugged the wall trying to went passed the mines, and as we did, we saw far ahead of us a train-cart lighted by burning trash-cans. Honestly, in a train-tunnel it would be better to hide in train-carts; most likely more loot to salvage there.
We finally started hearing the Raiders inside the carts.
I've heard some sneezes and laughs, and the smell of drugs was getting stronger. And I saw the shadows through the broken windows of the cart.
Our next obsticle through the tunnel, was a small Raider camp, where they just happened to have built a drug lab. Deadtrott noticed a lack of graffiti's on the walls. He said that this meant that they just recently showed up here. Because when Raiders run out of corpses to display their territory, they instead make marks with Graffiti's of skulls, atmoic fire, a lot.
They didn't know we were approaching. It was better for us to leave it that way.
These Raiders putted too much faith in scavengers being dumb enough not to see the mines. Finally a reliefing Wasteland Survival Lesson: Average Equestrian Wasteland Raiders, are much more bucking stupid than ones I've grown up with.
My Ghoul companion threw away the torch and whispered to me to turn off the PipBuck light.
We were finally past the minefield and silently approached the back entrance of the cart. He told me to stay on one side while he moved to the other. He kept giving me hoof signals to stay quite and not to move anywhere.
The cart door finally opened. One Raider exited while trying to sing in an intoxicated state.
"Winter's BUCKED up, Winter's bucked uuuupp, nah nah nah NAH nah nah naaaah"
. . . . . . .
From this overwhelming smell of drugs I could tell that these Raiders would be almost too high to fight us. This one was too high to see us, hiding on the sides of the cart. He just headed towards the landmines with his head spinning all over the place. The high must have made him forget they left mines there. He was so damn bucked-up with drugs his eyes were red. Eyes glowing red, that's a side effect of a near overdose of Dash.
But it wasn't an overdose that would kill him.
Deadtrott then suddenly grabbed him by his head, covered his mouth, and stabbed his neck with a switchblade.
"He he he, You okay out there Trigger? Look, it's good that you're piucking it all out, you won't feel the worse side-effects." One of the other raiders yelled as he heard the sound of blood spilling from the guy's throat assuming that he was piucking.
Well, this "Trigger" did piucked something. His own blood.
Deadtrott came back to hiding by the cart door, and peeked to see how many more of them were in there. I looked too, looking over the edge with just one of my eyes.
This cart had no side-doors, so more were probably on the other side of the cart and because of the rubble, the only way through was inside the cart. Inside it we spotted just three of them, including one that seemed to have been passed out on one of the seats.
With the smell of drugs, I would be surprised NOT to see one of them lying on the floor, unconscious OR dead.
Anyway, only two of them were on their hoofs. One Earth-Pony, the other a Unicorn. The Eart-Pony Raider was sitting nearly in the middle of the cart. The Unicorn Raider was sitting by one of the left seats at the end, making drugs with a small lab set.
The Earth Pony Raider looked even worse than Trigger back there. I could tell he was hallucinating by the way he was moving his hoofs in the air. Empty Mint-al boxes were around him on the floor.
In case you don't know, Mint-als are chems designed to increase a pony's mental state; memory, focus, all that stuff. But for addicts, it's the side effects and taste that matters. This one must have taken too much to feel the intended effects.
Deadtrott gestured to me that I should follow him quietly, while he still held the knife in his hoof. So, we started sneaking inside the cart, and neither of the two Raiders noticed us. One had his focus on the lab while the other one probably had his focus on hallucinatory stars around. Either way he had his back turned on our direction.
Until I screwed up.
Just as Deadtrott was closing in for the next kill, I accidently stepped on one of the Mint-al boxes that the Riader hasn't touched yet. The sound got his attention.
"Son of a DICK!"
I whispered still hoping the Raider wouldn't notice us pass the hallucinations. Then, in just a split second, Deadtrott made sure he will never see anything, ever, and I mean that literally.
The Raider suddenly had Deadtrot's knife stuck in his skull. The Ghoul pushed it into his left eye.
As he screamed in agonizing pain, the Unicorn Raider got off the chem-set just to have the exact same knife thrown into his throat. Deadtrott finished off the still screaming Earth Pony Raider by snapping his neck, while the Unicorn one bled to death.
I couldn't believe that the trotting zombie managed to kill both of them so painfully in just a 3 seconds. I almost gulped out of surprise. I would have told him that this was awesome, until more Raiders showed up.
Turns out two of them were on the other side of the cart. They both entered.
Deadtrott was really showing off his killing skills at that time. He viciously attacked the two next. Taking two Raiders at once in a hoof-fight . . . . .
I wondered if he would start zombie-growling at them. But I was a lot more sure that he would surely berate me for just standing rhitarded and looking instead of helping. Then suddenly he gave me a chance to do more than enjoy the view.
"This ones all yours!"
He told me that while punching in the face one of them in my direction.
The Raider was now lying on the ground in front of me. Noticing me, the Riader stood up and gave me the evil eye. I immedeatly started pulling the trigger of the pistol in my mouth. At this distance, I didn't had to aim.
I pull the trigger more than once, and with my eyes closed, getting ready for the impact of the shot to push me back and possibly even bust one of my teeth. And above all, I was expecting to see the Raider in front of me dead.
But, instead of loud bangs, I hear nothing.
No bullets? Worse. I pulled the wrong thing with my tongue. In all that was happening, I didn't noticed that I accidently pressed safety button instead.
I know, who the buck puts safety buttons on pistols? The most logial answer would be, Ponies who never saw the Wasteland; Ponies before the war. This pistol did looked ancient enough to be from there.
"Bad luck red."
The Raider suddenly with a reliefed grin on his face said that, obviously reffering to my red mane. He was now very eager to freaking stomp me.
Wearing boots with spikes, he rose his hoof and was just about to hit me. Seeing just a little scared colt with a gun (with no freaking bullets), he apperently didn't expected me to be a Slave who is pretty much used to being hit. But being beaten up for that many years by Raiders turned out to be rewarding.
I dodged the hit spitting the pistol out of my mouth in the process. The Raider's reaction showed he was surprised that a colt was smart enough to figure this out.
He swang again, and I dodged a second time. Immedeatly I started thinking fast what to do. Than I saw a sledgehammer by the Raider lying on the seat, who by now was pretty clear, was dead, possibly from an overdose. And this whole time, we thought that he was just sleeping.
I quickly grabbed the Sledgehammer with my teeth. The thought of me smashing that Ghoul's head before, was now possibly going to save my life.
I stood facing the Raider with the hammer in my mouth. He laughed histerically first.
"Hhhaaahahahahahah!! Oh, this is gonna be hilarious! You really thinkg that this is all you need! GO ON! Try to stop me!!!"
He was daring me to kill him with that hammer. As far as I could tell, this Raider thought that being a little colt was all it took to lose in a meele fight.
He wouldn't live long enough to regret that thought.
I triggered the S.T.A.T.S spell again. Everything once again froze. I had a perfect view of the Raider who was just about to jump at me.
Until that moment I didn't even knew that this spell could be used with meele weapons as well.
By now it was clear that this spell would be my main savior in every situation in the future. Hell, it could have possibly saved me if I had it back in Out Town.
I targeted his head. Our distance between each other was close enough. Next I targeted his right hoof.
I flang the hammer almost from the very ground, and whacked it at his jaw. When I hit him, I could have sworn I heard a few of his teeth cracking. I almost cracked my own neck just trying to hold that freaking hammer. The damn thing was so heavy.
Then immedeatly, I swang it again. I hitted his right hoof, just as I targeted with the spell.
What happened next, almost made me regret it.
I hit him just on the side of his knee. Then, I was this time perfectly positive that I heard something cracking. His bone.
The hoof was now bent in a direction where it shouldn't.
The very sight of his hoof-bones being outside the skin . . . . . . . . . not a pleasent memory to say the least. Ditto for the screaming he unleashed.
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGHHH!!!!!!! RRRAAAAAAAAHHHR!!!! YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!!!!"
Now, it was my turn to look down upon him. He lied on the ground screaming out of pain. With one of his hoofs broken in half, I had mere seconds, maybe minutes, before he would try to attack me again.
I used the spell one last time.
His head. Perfect success rate.
I rose the hammer again, having it for a second right above my head. I had to jump with my frontal hoofs to make it right. Releasing the weight of the hammer above my head, I letted it fall on his head.
Now he was definetly dead. Even if his entire head wasn't crushed. Just the half of it.
I don't know why I was panting so hard afterwards. Was it because of how freaking heavy this hammer was, or because I was once again close to dying?
Either way, I looked to the very end of the cart. Deadtrott stood like he was about to congratulate me. I would only assume. You can't see a smile or any other face underneath that gas-mask of his.
Next to him lied the other Raider he left for himself. He was lying on the floor with blood pouring from his mouth.
Deadtrott approached me.
"Was that as satysfying as you possibly always imagined killing a raider to be?"
That meant that he obviously knew of my deep hate for the Raiders of Out Town. I was compelled to answer him only after I took a look at the Raider I killed.
I moved the end of the hammer from his head. His lower jaw was completely dislocated from the rest of his head. I certianly left a mark with that hammer, seeing how part of his face was now flattened. It was fair to assume that his skull certianly had cracks in a few places.
It didn't felt satysfying to look at his dead eye that was still open. Aren't dead Ponies supposed to have their eyes closed?
But after I've let go of the hammer, I answered his question nonetheless, with sarcasm.
"Sure, it felt satysfying. It will be even more satysfying when it will be your turn."
I should have possibly thought this through before giving him that answer.
"Oh right." he responded with a happy altitude "Who doesn't love to kill Ghouls, am I right? Espescially ones like me, who can most certianly kill you."
That's when I realized I've pissed him off.
He striked me in the face with his hoof. This time I didn't dodged in time.
He then grabbed me by my armor and lifted me off the ground. He was serious about what he said next. And he said it angrily.
"Listen to me you little shit! This is the Wasteland. We will both die in it at some point. But I promise you, no matter how fast you learn, no matter how hard you try, you WILL die long before I will. The very collar alone, is just one of many things that will ensure that. You want to at the very least live longer? At least until you see your Mommy dearest? Don't ever threated me again. Do you hear me?"
He released me after I nodded for him.
Hell of a first experience in killing another Pony. And did I had any remourse? If the life taken was one of Raiders? Absolutely bucking Not.
We've spend the next several minutes salvaging what we could. What we found most of, was chems. The amount of them we found, looked like enough for both of us to OD to death. Deadtrott said that we should take them anyway.
I assumed that he may have got an addiction to chems.
The Raiders didn't have much in their pockets, other than just more chems, a bit of ammo to my pistol, cigarettes, and several caps.
Deadtrott then took a look outside on the other side of the cart, and I immedeatly followed him. He hit the Jackpot of this search.
Outside where those two other Raiders surely stood guard, there were several wooden stretched boxes by the door, right behind piles of rubble, that surely were meant to provide cover. Deadtrott took a look into ones in the corner left of the door. THIS was where the Raiders kept most of their weapons.
By now, we had space in our bags only for a few audditional weapons, so Deadtrott picked the ones that would make most caps, which were also the most interesting.
Inside the boxes were several grenades, more mines, at least two rifles, but Deadtrott took only one thing. A laser rifle.
Now, eversince the first time in Out Town I was ever sent to the caves to search for gemstones, I've always fancied Energy weapons. There was just something about turning your enemies into ash that kind of grabbed my attention.
Back then I could have simply said that I had a thing for weapons of PURE AWESOMENESS!!!
Off course, Deadtrott wouldn't let me have it. He surely grabbed it so he can sell it. The very ammo alone to that weapon costs a lot of caps, from what I heard anyway. But that's not to say I kinda didn't hoped we'd get another opportunity to fight, and we would need to use that weapon.
I was hoping to find one of those awesome weapons in another one of those boxes. I went to check the one in the right corner. I was so excited, which weapon I would find there. Pressure increases, I open, look inside, and surprisingly all I find in there is a burned-up Teddy Bear.
. . . . . . .
A dirty, burned, shitty, useless Teddy Bear, just standing there in the very middle of the box, staring at me as if he's about to giggle that I didn't get what I wanted.
Why haven't I found anything valuable to salvage yet? In my first salvaging experience all I find is jack-shit.
That summed up our salvaging, and Deadtrott then grabbed me by my armor and ordered me to move. The tunnel still seemed to have been going for miles and miles. I almost couldn't believe that we literally had a mountain above our heads.
I hoped that it wouldn't crumble.
Footnote: Level Up.
Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Chapter 5: Don't look Back
"This is the Wasteland. We will both die in it at some point. But I promise you, no matter how fast you learn, no matter how hard you try, you WILL die long before I will."
"Hell of a first experience in killing another Pony. And did I had any remourse?"
"RRRAAAAAAAAHHHR!!!! YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!!!!""
"If the life taken was one of Raiders? Absolutely bucking Not."
"You want to at the very least live longer? At least until you see your Mommy dearest? Don't ever threated me again."
"The tunnel still seemed to have been going for miles and miles. I almost couldn't believe that we literally had a mountain above our heads."
"A friendship with him, is a hell all on its own."
Chapter 5: Don't look Back
How am I not insane yet? Or better yet, how am I still alive?
I still have Ghoul blood and Raider blood all over my face, some of it even went into my mouth as well. Speaking off which, when the pistol didn't maimed my teeth like I expected, Deadtrott did it, when he striked me in the face with his dirty, rotten, Ghoul hoof.
The way he messed up my jaws, I could barely speak without feeling my mouth twitching or snapping. Every time I'll look into the mirror to see the scar he left on my cheeck, I'll always remmember that hit.
We were back to our traditional trotting through the unending layers of nothingness. Except this time we were indoors. Dark tunnel going and going as if it was leading to the center of earth. It goes to show that the Wasteland is equally dangerous indoors as it is outdoors.
So far, that's about 5 instances where I almost died, including when Deadtrot was pissed at my sarcastic response.
"Sure, it felt satysfying. It will be even more satysfying when it will be your turn."
But wait . . . . . . . . was I really sarcastic back then?
He's still treating me like a slave, even if he's leading me to what could have been called my new life as a free pony. While he carries all of our weapons, including the super awesome kick-ass laser rifle, I'm doing the work of a brahmin, and carrying trash to sell.
And at almost every instance, he was updating our relationship; He'll kill me if I won't listen to him, and I can't kill him. No moral obstacle, but combat skill obstacle. While all I can do is stab him in his throat in a matter of 10 seconds tops, all he has to do is throw a knife at me in the span of just one.
No, I certianly wasn't sarcastic with that response.
I do want to kill that Ghoul. I do want to finish his delayed death.
Only thing that stops me, is the fact that he still guides me to my Mother. Though another reason still strikes me every so often. I saw him fight, and who knows how long he has defied the laws of radiation by staying alive while his whole body slowly rots.
I wondered if he can be killed at all.
My PipBuck turned out to give us enough light after I set it to the highest setting. Good thing that those things never run out of batteries or something. I'm actually not good with science, so I don't know how that works.
But recently it was revieled that there is something I turned out to be good at. Killing Raiders with meele weapons. I still can't stop thinking about the half crushed head of that Raider back then.
And who knows? Maybe hanging out with one of the biggest killers I've ever met will make me better at killing too. And those that I will kill most of will be Out Town Raiders.
For now though, the tunnel was a bigger concern. Deadtrott was saying that there still might be like 2 or 3 hours of trotting ahead of us, and that if we met Raiders back then, it could mean that there are more ahead.
I walked right next to him and he was only a bit ahead of me. He carried all the weapons, including my pistol. I was carrying trash and sticked close so that my PipBuck can light our way.
I asked Deadtrott how much we had to go until we get to the exit of this tunnel, and he answered to me. That was the first instance of me talking to him since we left the place of our last battle. After our last nice conversation we had before, I was affraid to ask him anything at all.
The worst that could have happened is that he kills me. Least worst thing I could expect is that he answers me with his usual "here you go now shut the buck up" attitude. I decided that if he hits me again, than I will ask no more questions. I imagined that this is his last warning before he kills; he maims me first.
So I finally gathere a little back-bone and risked it.
"If we run into Raiders again, could I have my pistol back then."
The minute he looked at me with his red eye, I immedeatly tried to reassure him that I don't want to make him mad.
"I WILL, point it in the right direction, I promise."
The gas-mask STILL made it difficult to tell when he's angry. Fortunetly, he wasn't angry at my question, but the answer was still as I predicted.
"I'll give you a gun, only when I'll need you to have one. So far this prooved to be little help, even with that spell in your wrist."
I would love nothing more than another opportunity to try out the S.T.A.T.S spell again. I would love it even more with that laser rifle. Every time I noticed part of it showing out of Deadtrotts bag, I kept imagining dissolving somepony to ashes with that thing.
Honestly, the answer he gave me, ironically motivated me to speak better about myself, just for once.
I berated at him,
"You know, I can actually shoot and fight pretty well too. I can do it even better the less surprises you spring on me."
I was obviously reffering to the two instances he tought me to fight when least prepared; when he left me alone against a raging pack of his feral friends and the other instance when he threw at me a crazy, half-drunk, beefed-up, Raider with a hard-on for murder.
Deadtrott still kept his usual "smile" while responding to my frustration, and fortunetly he was still not hitting me.
"The'll be plenty of more surprises for the both of us."
Oh yes, Deadtrott's survival lessons 2.0; be ready for whatever crazy unexpected shit the Wasteland will throw at your face. I mean . . . . . if your bucking companion doesn't do it first.
Then I finally stopped thinking ahead before speaking my mind.
"Surprises like what?"
I aksed with a sarcastic attitude.
"Ones you'll wish won't happen."
I thought THAT will be his dissmisal from this conversation, but surprisingly he turned out to be a lot more chatty, granted he still wasn't much forthcoming.
"First of all, will you keep your bucking voice down!? And second, there's no telling what surprises exactly the Wasteland has prepared for us. That's what makes it so dangerous."
I took advantage of his sudden change of attitude while it lasted.
"You say that from personal experience I imagine. I mean, any pony can tell that you've killed youre fair share of things."
Why did I thought that a crazy killer Ghoul like him would take that as a complement?
"Like an annoying slave filly with a whipped back and a big mouth? Don't push me!"
That was my hint, to either stop talking or changing the subject. So, I remained silent for a few seconds and treid to think of something else to say before we run into more trouble.
I thought a bit about My Mother's message. I was still surprised every time I had this thought in my head, that I actually had a Mother. And I still cannot wrap my head around me meeting her. When that happens, what am I going to say? What's gonna happen to me?
There was at least one question in that regad that Deadtrott could answer me right now. So after realizing that he might still be calm enough for one more question, I aksed away.
"So this 'Vigilante Group' that my Mother mentioned on that message. Who are they exactly?"
He answered me, but still didn't looked at me as if I wasn't there.
"You're Mother already explained that to you in that message. They're a group of Ponies dedicated to the idea of helping those in need in the Wasteland. Those who for the good of the innocent simply fight back against the Raiders, and all the other crazy factions that don't help anypony. They call themselves 'The Lookouts', as they look out for any help they find."
"The Lookouts", huh? Nice name. One you'd expect from Ponies who childishly believe they can save the world from evil. I am yet to see if they really can.
"So this group is technically just going around the entire Wasteland helping just about anypony who needs help."
I almsot knew the answer before he gave it.
"Yes, pretty much."
His previous warning was apperently not enough, because then my big stupid mouth have spoke yet again before I thought ahead.
"My Mother also said that you are also a member of that group. If this is really their purpose than you haven't really acted like a true Lookout so far."
At this point he started to slow down, and then he stopped and looked at me. Still the same smile I recon, but this time, the consideration of my demise was absent.
"Do you think I'm paranoid? Well, at least I still live. There's no surviving the End of the World without changing in some way. Not after the shit I've seen."
At least he didn't hit me again. He didn't even threatened me.
I seemed to have hit him where he's soft, because just as he finished that sentence, he looked away for a second as if he was looking at a ghost or something.
All in all, he was making a pretty simple point very clear to me; that in this world, I must be ready for the worst, which can come in many forms.
Case in point.
We started hearing shots far into the tunnel ahead of us.
More Raiders? Fair guess, but who are they shooting at? Or "what"?
Deadtrott orders me to turn off the light on my PipBuck and then pulls me by my leather armor. We were approaching slowly and quetly in the direction from which we heard the shots. The tunnel was then splitting into two directions. There was a long dark way ahead of us, and another long road around the corner from where we stood.
Behind that corner we were hearing the shots and the screams, and I recognized the growling to be Feral Ghouls.
Deadtrott then pushed me the ground and shooshed me. He heard something I didn't. The dark tunnel ahead of us was suddenly swarming with more Ferals charging in the direction of the tunnel around the corner. They heard the dinner bell.
Head to where they were running or where they went from? To their prey, or their hive? The choice was not up to me.
Deadtrott argued that we should fight through the ongoing onslaught between the Ghouls and the Raiders, and not through the larger pack of them. So he reminded me to remain quiet and we slowly pushed on.
Right around the wall, we already saw the first defensive line for the Raider outpost up ahead. A fat layer of sandbags lightet by burning trashcans. A whole bunch of dead Ghouls were lying around it, along with a bunch of ammo clips and shotgun shells. Behind the sandbags, two dead Raiders, mauled to death with Feral Ghoul hands. They had bite-marks all over them and were clawed like hell.
Empty ammo clips were lying around this place, but no actual ammo though. They apperently fought to the last bullet. Who knew Raiders were so heroic in battle? Off course it could be that Raiders were just convinced they were indestructible. Drug addiction will do that to you.
Either way, there was nothing of value around either of the corpses, so we moved on. The shots were still fired.
Ahead of us we then saw a huge pile of rubble blocking the tunnel. Turns out that the fight sounds were coming from a door on the right of the tunnel. It lead to a room that was a staff passage between tunnels. These Raiders built their outpost in that room.
At this point, the shots and all the other noises were finally wearing off. The fighting was over. Now I was raising my hopes that the Ferals won. Rahter shoot at a pack of zombies than armed Raiders.
Even when Raiders did lost this battle, my hope was still too big. We looked past the corner into the room, and the number of Feral Ghouls, it was too big. There were dozens of them inside, but the uncomfortable sight was what they were doing.
They feasted on the corpses. Raider corpses and their own alike.
Deadtrott was right. The Wasteland does give many surprises. I thought I saw and experienced all the worst that can be in Out Town, but I wasn't prepared for this.
The sight of the Feral Ghouls, tearing and chewing on the ripped open bellies of the corpses, feasting on everything inside. Drinking blood, eating livers, hearts, while the blood covered the entire ground. Even Out Town wouldn't prepare me for that.
Now this time, I was more than ever scared.
Deadtrott pulled me back from peeking beyond the edge of the wall. I started shaking. I almost jumped up from fear the second I heard the next loud noise.
That next loud noise turned out to be either a faraway sniper shot, or one the Feral Ghoul heads exploding.
Suddenly we heard shots again. This time, they were coming from beyond this room. Like several walls away from us.This huge army of Feral Ghouls was suddenly running to where they heard the shots coming. The room was empty.
Deadtrott then quickly pushed me into the room.
"Keep qiuet. And if you feel like throwing up, do it now."
That wouldn't be a bad idea.
The minute we walked into the room, I immedeatly threw the heavy bags of my back and feel to my knees.
We were walking in a giant pool of blood, surrounded by corpses half-eaten. I did as Deadtrott told me and piuqed. He meanwhile was looking what was behind the next passage. It seemed that wherever those Ghouls went, it is very far from us.
Seemed like now we could rest for a few short seconds. But then . . . . . . . .
Ghouls have no functioning brains. So are they even capable of having the thought of sneaking up on their prey?
Just as I was finished re-painting the floor, something pushed me to the ground. A feral ghoul, just like that, sneaked up on me, and started pounding me with his hoofs. Afterall there was still behind us a long tunnel filled with them.
Before the Ghoul went from pounding me to the ground to eating me. Deadtrott in the last second blew his head off, with his rifle.
"PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER SQUIRT!!! WE HAVE COMPANY!!!"
Yeah, no shit. He yelled that at me as he was putting me back on my hooves and gave me my pistol back.
He then holstered his rifle on his back, threw his bag od weapons on the floor and quickly grabbed an assault rifle from it.
Two more feral ghouls then entered the room through the door which we came from. I immedeatly activated the S.T.A.T.S spell, just as Deadtrot started firing.
I quickly targeted the one at which Deadtrott didn't fired. This time, I had biggest chances of hitting the torso, so the torso I shot, and down he went. Deadtrott took care of the other one.
He than quickly ran towards the door to close it. And when I say "door" I don't mean a wooden one. This room had metal doors that would be closed and opened with a switch next to it. Unfortunetly he didn't reach it in time.
More Ghouls just jumped from the door and went right at him. There was barely any room here and at those close encouters those Ghouls had an advantage. Deadtrott barely had time to aim before one or two of them grabbed him by his coat forcing him to just throw away the rifle and use his bare hoofs.
"SHUT THE DOOR KID!! SHUT THE BUCKING DOOR!!!!!!"
It was up to me. He was too busy getting his close friends off him. I ran as quickly as I could towards the door, so fast I almost slipped on the pool of blood. I launched myself at the door switch pressing it as hard as I could.
The metal door closed, but once again timing wasn't on our side.
The door closed, but as soon as I looked at it closing, I noticed that another Feral Ghoul was standing passed it. He was looking at me. I almost could have sworn that he was smiling at me.
I immedeatly triggered the spell again. Two shots. It only had enough jiuce for that much. Not enough. Even if I triggered the head and hit it both times, the Ghouls seemed to have been immune to it.
He rushed at me, and suddenly I experienced once again the blow that Deadtrott gave me before. The Ghould striked me in the face so hard that I was launched from the ground to the near other end of the room.
While holding myself where he hit me I noticed that he apperently wasn't a regular Ghoul. He looked like one at first, but then he rose his hands to the air and growled extreamly loud, and then his veins suddenly were glowing in a radioactive yellow colour.
This was some kind of an unusual Ghoul. I triggered the spell again. The time before I putted all the focus on shooting, so much so that the spell needed time to charge. This time I activated it so I can read what the spell labels him as. It said "Legendary Feral Ghoul Roamer". A picture of a skull was right next to the name.
I was dealing with some kind of a king of Ferals this time.
Right before the spell stopped working I noticed that the laser rifle that I was eyeballing this whole time was still in Deadtrotts bag on the ground. He meanwhile was still too busy with the Feral Ghouls fighting them off with nothing but his hoofs.
So first thing I did, I jumped to the right side as quickly as possible just as this Legendary Ghoul was charging at me. I did at the right time. He smashed his head against the wall.
I used the opportunity and, as quickly as, I could I grabbed the laser rifle turned back facing the Ghoul, and just pulled the trigger repeatedly. This time it was a bigger weapon, so I had to do it with my hoofs.
I just fired and fired and fired without aiming. Suddenly smoke was everywhere. I managed to blow of one of his hoofs. Still not enough.
The S.T.A.T.S spell didn't name him "Legendary" for nothing. He continud to crawl towards me and still at a fast paste. Why the buck did I stopped firing? He then launched himself towards me from the ground. He was about to land on me. I quickly pointed the laser rifle at him, but he landed just as I was about to fire.
I closed my eyes, and suddenly the rifle felt a lot heavier. He landed with his head against the barrel of the rifle; it was stuck in his mouth. The laser rifle was now the only thing between me and the Legendary Feral Ghoul Roamer, literally. With the rifle stuck in his mouth, the Ghould tried to reach me with his hoofs.
Upon realizing it, I did the obvious. I fired upwards. Exactly what I expected happened. He started turning into ash. I got covered with it.
Deadtrott finally finished off the two Ghouls giving HIM a hard time. He was pulling himself together while I just lied on my back, paralized from the whole ordeal, and covered with ashes.
I snapped out of it the minute I heard more Feral Ghouls bangning on the door we just closed.
Deadtrott was all business, no time to rest, no nothing. So it was unsurprising that he immedeatly pulled me by my leather armor again and yelled at me to run.
"ON YOUR HOOFS SQUIRT!! YOU'LL HAVE TIME TO REST LATER!!!"
Along with banging on metal doors I also started hearing screws falling off walls. The Ghouls were about to brake open this door. Fear really does motivate ponies to act, because all I did next was running without looking back. And that was a mistake.
I didn't grab any of the bags.
Deadtrott quickly grabbed one, but I couldn't tell which one was it. The only thing I still carried, was the laser rifle.
As soon as we left the room and started running through a corridor, I heard the metal door smashing. I imagined that just like with that metal grate back then, the Ghouls might have hurt themselves doing it.
It was a long corridor, and we were passing by a few more corpses of Ghouls and Raiders. Meanwhile, we were hearing more hungry growling sounds behind us. There were plenty of corpses back in that room, but Ferals apperently love to hunt.
And did I already mentioned that we were headed where we heard those shots from? And we were still hearing them. I suppose we were just running from what we knew was trouble, and ran towards what we didn't knew yet if was trouble at all. Those could have been just more Raiders, but maybe those were just mercenaries? At this point, all I though was "anything but More Ghouls".
Deadtrott didn't seem to worry who we meet there.
We eventually passed tw more metal doors that Deadtrott immedeatly closed with the switches. They were buying us time.
Then we finally passed the last door at the end of this corridor. We were now in the end of another tunnel. I immedeatly hid behind one of the two buffer stops while Deatrott close the last door.
I didn't knew who we'd meet, but I hid just in case it would more Raiders.
It was worse.
They turned out to be more of Red Eye's Slavers. This time though, they were accompanied by something that everyone in Out Town even heard of. Whiplie used to scare me and all the other filly slaves about them. Saying how they would one day rule the Wasteland, be a huge powerhouse in it. Red Eye's secret weapons.
Alicorns.
We were now facing 4 Mercenaries accompanied by two Alicorns. Two Unicorns and two Earthponies, all armed to the teeth. They were showing it off. All of their weapons were pointed at us, and their leader turned out to be one of the Alicorns.
Deadtrott seemed only surprised, but his face later turned into anger. How was he still not affraid.
The Alicorn spoke.
"You two! Stay where you are!"
She was having it written all over herself that she is to be feared. Her eyes were glowing red. How many more things with red eyes I'll meet in my life before the Wasteland consumes me? Shouldn't be pretty long now.
"Don't any of you move an inch. Let's not let this end badly for either of us!"
Yeup. She was speaking like she's about to negotiate an unfair truth that would either leave us caps-less or one of us becoming a new audition to Dead Eyes slave army. Persumably me.
My assumptions weren't false. She did said "any of you", so I revieled myself from that behind that buffer.
But suddenly, the Alicorn looked at me with a very uncomfortable focus. She noticed both my collar and my PipBuck.
That would be probably surprising to most in the Wasteland to see a little colt slave wearing both of those. But then she suddenly turned to Deadtrott with a grin.
"Hey, NOW I rememmber you, you're Deadtrott, you're one of those that Red Eye sent after the kid."
Wait a minute, Red Eye sent that group, specifically for ME?
"Where's Dual and the others?"
She asked, but once again, I had a bunch of questions for Deadtrott myself. Did Red Eye really sent all those merchs back then JUST FOR ME? What the Buck is going on here?
Anyway, Deadtrott answered what was technically the truth.
"They didn't make it, I'm all that's left."
If they knew Deadtrott, than I hoped that they'd me more cooperative, but they continued pointing their guns at us, though a lot more at him. The Alicorn contined talking.
"Deadtrott, all of our men are dead, you are all that's left, and you show up with him wearing an actual authentic PipBuck. How do you suppose this looks like for you?"
One of the Unicorn Raiders than said with an angry tone.
"I warned the Boss not to trust this guy. He killed Dual and the others, I knew he would!"
Now I suddenly had this thought that maybe they'll just kill Deadtrott, and for whatever crazy reason Red Eye wants me, one thing mattered, they wanted me alive. Seemed like a win-win.
Until Deadtrott ruined it all.
Just as the Alicorn was telling her fellow mercenary to shut up and that she's in charge. Deadtrott reached for the inside of his duster and pulled out a Flash Bang Grenade. Raiders at Out Town rarely had those, but however HE got one of them, he used it.
The minute I saw the grenade flying, I looked away, and covered my ears.
All six mercenaries were then moaning over the sudden surprise, wiping their eyes and ears.
"Mawp . . . . . . mawp . . . . . . . mawp."
. . . . . . .
Deadtrott then pulled out his trusty rifle and dealt with the Alicorns first. Makes sense, getting rid of the biggest threat first.
He fired at their heads as fast as he could. Only one of them dropped dead, but the other one was yelling in agony as Deadtrott blinded her in the eyes. She was first temporarily blinded with the flash, but now was literally blinded.
Deadtrott's accuracy skills are truly remarkable. And that rifle of his apperentl packed more of a punch than most Sniper Rifles.
Just as the other 4 Merchs were finally recovering from the flash, I immedeadly lifter the laser rifle and S.T.A.T.S did most of the rest.
I clearly still had to practice with that spell.
I targeted only on of them and fired four times. The first three shots missed by inches, but the last one turned him into ashes.
Three Merchs left, without counting the Blind Alicorn, but what good she was? The other merchs finally didn't felt the effect of the flash anymore and returned fire.
We both hid behind the buffers. Deadtrott didn't waste a single second doing nothing. He was reloading his weapon, while was still holding the laser rifle without being certain how many mroe times I can fire it before I'm out. Didn't have any ammo to it.
The merchs continued to fire. Their minds must have still been dizzy from the grenade if they didn't payed attention at the amount of ammo thy were wasting.
When they all started reloading, Deadtrott used the opportunity and charged. He fired rifle precisely in one's stomach. Two left.
He then grabbed the other merch. Killing at close corners with bare hoofs really seemed to have been a talent for him. But all that left the other Raider for me.
I used S.T.A.T.S again. This time the target was closer, less chance of missing.
I fired twice. This time, the target didn't disintegrated, but at least was dead. I hit him in the stomach and than right through the neck. What a slow death, having two huge bruning wholes in your neck.
Deadtrott finished off the last Mercenary. I didn't even know how, but I didn't want to. Though by how loosely his haed was tilting while Deadtrott threw his corpse away, I'd assume he broke his neck. Who knew pony necks were as easy to break as wooden sticks?
Finally, it was over. The Feral Ghouls were still after us, but we didn't hear any banging at the near door, meaning that they haven't even broke through any of the doors we closed.
I would have smiled of relief, if I only remembered how to do it.
Now the corpses were all ours for the looting. But first Deadtrott was going to fully deal with the Alicorn. She was still bleeding from where her eyes used to be. Deadtrott was way ahead of me within the tunnel, I moved very slowly. All this killing and running for your life is very exhausting.
By now the Alicorn stopped screaming and was at Deadtrott's mercy on her knees. He slowly approached her and was about to kill her, right there, without a word.
However, the Alicorn had something to say. And wouldn't you know it? It were her last words.
"BUCK you, Deadtrott!"
Then I started hearing beeping sounds. She magically made something appear around her horn. I looked with focus.
Holy Motherbucking son of shit! It was a bucking Balefire bomb egg. Those were technically the little children of the same bombs that turned this world into a giant lifeless desert. And it was beeping, that meant only one thing. It was about to blow.
That's actually how insane the Alicorns apperently are. This one couldn't see anything anymore, so she blows herself up, along with everypony around her.
Once again, Deadtrott yelled at me what to do. This time didn't had to though. I was perfectly aware of the danger.
He sprinted deeper and deeper into the tunnel as fast as he could. I did the same. I followed him in the same direction as fast as I could. I went past the Alicorn and by that time, the Egg was beeping faster and faster.
Deadtrott was at a far enough distance. I weren't.
The Flash Bang was the closest thing to temporarily deaf me. The Balfire Bomb egg did instead, along with nearly killing me.
The loud bang, that's not a good enough name for it. The sound of the explosion is indescribable. All I can say is that when it happened, I felt the fire touching my back. I was launched straight into the tunnel like a ragdoll. And when I landed to the ground, it was like all those time I was punched in the face by Whiplie. Only this time, it was hard concrete.
I passed out.
Why is this next part so familiar?
I woke up again smelling smoke.
I felt this smell, but I didn't feel anything else. I was really a ragdool at the moment. I was laying straight on my back. I didn't feel my limbs, and every time I tried to stand up, I couldn't tell if my limbs were heavier or my head.
And when I opened my eyes. All I saw was Deadtrott looking down on me.
"Perhaps there is hope for you yet."
First thing he said to me after I woke up from my 5th near death experience, and it's to complement me on this.
And beside not feeling my whole body, and his annoying growly voice, I had another problem. I was hungry. Made me realize that perhaps more than an hour passed between me waking up and that Alicorn blowing herself up.
But I guess I wouldn't starve just yet.
Deadtrott told me to open my mouth, and he fed me some kind of meat. I was starving, so I just chewed it and swallowed it, with no concern about the taste. Regardless, I asked.
"What is this?"
"Don't ask what it is. Just eat it and don't starve."
Typical kind of answer from him.
He gave me another bite, and I chewed it. I was that much hungry that I just continued eating, no matter what. And really, the smell would have made it difficult in a normal circumstances.
It wasn't just the smell of smoke but also something else from which I would have fainted.
Deadtrott than moved and sat by the fire and worked on whatever he was cooking. He then gave me a long explanation about it.
"You might have noticed that we left a few bags behind. Well, I'd blame you, but I'm too tired to punch you again."
Before he could continue, I asked him about what happened to me.
"What the buck happened? Why can't I feel my hoofs?"
"That Alicorn did her hardest to kill us both, and she nearly succeeded. When that explosion made you collide with the concrete floor that hard . . . . . . . you broke a few bones. You crippled."
If that was true, than why wasn't I in pain? He explained it to me before I could ask him.
"Well, like I said, we left some of our equipment behind, and I couldn't get it back. That includes most of our medicine, but fortunetly, I still had enough Tetradoxyn. It will make you loose feeling in the rest of your body. Better not for you to feel the pain."
Although, that meant he would now need to carry me through the rest of the way. That would probably make him angry.
I was a bit concerned about all of our things. Only I did while laying flat on my back like something that might as well be a dead pony.
"So did we really lost everything?"
"Lost everything but a small bag of bandages, a bit of ammo, and some more smaller arms."
That WAS a lot. And unfortunetly it included that laser rifle to which I was getting so attached to.
But wait a minute.
If that was really all we had left, than that means we lost our bag of food as well. So what the hell was he feeding me?
That's exactly what I asked him. He answered me while still giving me another third bite of that meaty whatever-it-is.
"Look, we've lost all of our rations back then, and there are only two ways you can handle THIS. Either get used to it, or forget it. I don't care which one, just as long as you'll understand that we had no choice."
He then went back to cooking the rest of it over the fire. Then I saw it.
It really was meat that he cooked, and far beside the fireplace, severed limbs were laying. I recognized with the coat colours those belonged to the Merchs we dealt with.
All that Deadtrott had to say for it is that we had no choice.
Footnote: Level Up.
Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Chapter 6: With Open Hoofs
"Our hideout is within the ruins of a place called Ponyville."
"Don't ask what it is. Just eat it and don't starve."
"All that Deadtrott had to say for it is that we had no choice."
"I warned the Boss not to trust this guy. He killed Dual and the others, I knew he would!"
"Did Red Eye really sent all those merchs back then JUST FOR ME? What the Buck is going on here?"
"They call themselves 'The Lookouts', as they look out for any help they find."
"The Ponies of the Wasteland have been bleeding long enough, and we bring light and hope to them."
"There's no surviving the End of the World without changing in some way. Not after the shit I've seen."
Chapter 6: With Open Hoofs
Remmember when I asked, how am I not insane yet? Well, now I was definetly on my way there. I'm a motherbucking cannibal.
Leaves me alone to die as a way of motivating me, throws a Raider at me when I'm least prepared for battle, beats the shit out of me for raising my voice, and now feeds me the remains of our enemies. Deadtrott, is a bucking mad pony. He's bucking crazy, and he's a bucking killer. A trotting corpse that possibly for the good of everypony should have stayed dead. Everything and everypony that bucks with him dies, and whatever he doesn't kill, he hurts very, VERY badly, physically and mentally.
Now you see what I meant, when I said that a friendship with him is a hell all on its own.
I've cought a feeling that maybe the reason he injected me with so much Tetradoxyn, wasn't just so that I wouldn't feel the pain from the new bruises and scars the suicide-bombing Alicorn gave me. Maybe it was also so that he can prevent me from exploding and smashing everything in sight in a psychotic rage. Perhaps he knew better. I've been thinking about him dying eversince I first layed eyes on him.
Raiders back in out town fed me awful things. When I was a slave, my daily meal consisted of shitty soup with hoofnails in them, rotten apples, cold rat meat, there were even a few instances of drinking piss when they told me it was apple juice.
How is eating pony meat an improovement?
I still have bits and pieces of those merch between my teeth, and even when I knew exactly WHO was it that I was eating, I still wouldn't stop swallowing them. Pony blood and meat in my mouth, and I still chewed and swallowed.
How is this entire bucking journey a better life than the one of a slave?
Short answer was "it isn't". My destination was the intended better life that my Mother and her bucking posse of Lookouts meant to give me.
All this better be worth it. The better life that my Mother promised me in that message, better be that better bucking life.
The tetradoxyn was still doing its magic. I couldn't move, couldn't twitch, it really seemed to be working better than it did at first, because now I couldn't speak and couldn't even move my eyelids. My eyes were shut down and I couldn't feel the strength to open them.
Deadtrott seemed to have been annoyed by me talking, so he injects me with something that would make me shut up. Makes sense. Carrying me must be less annoying than listening to me. Not to mention not feeling the pain, prevents me from screaming.
I could only hear whats happening. As he carried me on his back, I heard Deadtrott's trotting with echo following the trot-sounds. At the same time, every so often I also heard little rocks falling far away, also followed by echo. We were still in the tunnels. Hopefully, more than half way there.
At least he carried me on his back that was covered by his coat. Rubbing against his rotting Ghoul skin? The fact that I just ate the corpse of a pony was bad enough.
By now I wasn't sure if air floats through this damn tunnel at all. That wouldn't be a problem for Deadtrott though, what with that bloody gas-mask.
And every time I rememmbered that there was a ginormous mountain above us, I kept wondering if it collapsed already by any chance. We are still alive, so probably just half of it. Though, those tiny rock sounds, did seemed like a warning for us to get out of this tunnel possible.
Really, I should be wondering how long until this damn medicine stops working, because with absolutely no strength over my limbs, lips and even eyelids, I was slowly falling asleep. And I was dying to find out how much of that equipment we lost.
I kept thinking about it even if Deadtrott wouldn't let me near it. I guess deep inside, I was still dying to have all that all for myself. Must be a feeling that free pony's get. But off course, I still had that goddamn collar on my neck.
I don't know why, but while Deadtrott carried me on his back, I was trying my best not to fall asleep. Failed attempt.
Several sounds of trotting later, I felt there was possibly no more sense in trying. I dozed off.
Perhaps I'd wake up by the time we get to this "Ponyville".
________________
"Wake up. Wake up! We're almost there quirt. Come on, don't make me wake you up the hard way."
I suppose that by now, the medicine slowly stopped working.
I opened my eyes and, who knew? It was still dark. The skies of the Equestrian Wasteland may always be as dark and grey as the Wasteland itself, but still less dark than a corpse-reeking tunnel.
Hours possibly passed since we left that tunnel.
"It's good we made it this far. I'm almost all out of Tetradoxyn."
Deadtrott still inserted more of that shit into my blood, and after I looked at my Pipbuck, one would almost argue it IS better for me still not to feel the rest of my body. It showed three of my hoofs crippled and my torso as well. Pipbucks can show current state of your health too. This one was showing me, being just a few more bruises away from being dead.
Fortunetly, it didn't show anything serious about my head, because I finally regained control of most of most of it. Granted, I still had a headache and still felt tired.
While Deadtrott was still trotting with a steady paste, I was still flat on his back with my head feeling like it was made of boulders, and the rest of my body, lifeless like it was already a corpse. According to the Pipbuck it DID seemed very close to that final stage.
I pointed my sight to which towards Deadtrott was headed, and then I saw it. The alleged second worst settlement to live in, right behind Out Town.
Ponyville
A whole bunch of houses, disintegrated and burned. A true definition of a ghost-town. Except that ghosts didn't live there, Raiders did. And according to what Deadtrott told me, the ones here are allegedly not as organized and smart as ones in Out Town.
Deadtrott then started crossing a deep, digged-down river. Just as he entered he then lifted me off his back and held me by my leather armor high above the water. Probably better that way. My Pipbuck was making weird clock noises again. The radiation levels in that water were apperently too high. Off course, being a Ghoul, for Deadtrott it must have been like bathing in water full of whatever stimpaks have in them.
In a Raider settlement, the water can be radioactive because for all I knew, it could have been full of pony remains of every kind.
After Deadtrott crawled out of that river and I was back on his back, we finally saw the typical Raider decorations; decapitated heads on spikes, and graffiti.
Deadtrott advised me,
"Stay quiet, and don't even think of sneezing or coughing."
We were now between two houses, just as eqully destroyed as the whole town. And from then on, it was all sneaky-sneak.
Strangely, the open streets were completely empty. Of all living things anyway. There were plenty of skeletons lying around. Whether they were from way back before the bombs or more recent I could care less.
Deadtrott costantly moved between alleys, probably knowing that a whole bunch of Raiders were doing who-knows what. Probably inserting more drugs into every part of their bodies or eating corpses, probably like I did.
For a Ghoul whose very voice can might-as-well be a death-signal for anypony who hears it, Deadtrott was pretty quiet. Just before the tetradoxyn kicked in and knocked me out, his loud trotting was all I heard, and now, I barely heard it at all.
I looked around and what else was there to say? This place looked just as bucked up as the one I left. The only difference was that before the war this place was possilby just a little bit less shity. The buildings did looked a lot more fancy, disregarding the ashes and missing bits of walls.
And off course the usual Raider stuff; graffiti, corpses on chains, blood splatters, possibly a lot of vomit puddles.
We than finally approached something interesting. Very interesting.
I looked, and saw it. I huge stone sculpture of some Pony in armor, standing on his back hoofs, and holding a big sword in his mouth up in the air.
Deadtrott stood side by the big stone pony so that I can see it myself, and he said out loud.
"The Big Macintosh War Memorial"
"What's a memorial?" The thing that came to my mind. How would I know what's a memorial? I'm a slave.
I instead asked a different question.
"That someone you knew?"
I HAVE figued out that whoever this 'Big Macintosh' was, it was a Pony who possibly lived before the war, and this giant rocky imitation of him, is apperently dedicated to his death. No way Raiders could build something that detailed.
"Yes, I did knew that Pony, and that's all we're gonna talk about in this regard."
Just before Deadtrott distanced us far from this 'monument', I took a quick look at the bottom of it and noticed the writing.
THE BIG MACINTOSH MEMORIALForget not those who came before
Yeah, whoever this Big Macintosh was, it seemd that his death was heart-braking for most who saw it and even heard of it back then. Deadtrott's answer also gave that away. In his answer, I felt the exact same feeling I had back in that tunnel when I argued he didn't act like much of Lookout.
I was suddenly shocked by what Eqeustria was possibly like before the bombs. Was the death of one single Pony really that devastating?
Ponies die in this Wasteland, ever, damn, day.
Back in Out Town, it was almost almost a necessity for at least one slave to starve once a day. Way before I was born, this land might have possibly had way more corpses than Ponies to dig wholes for them.
Was the standard of Ponykind before the war really that caring about every single life?
Sounded too good to be true.
I thought, no way that we were ever that good.
Finally we approached another house, this time around the front door, which miraculously wasn't as disintegrated as the rest of this place. I even read the sign above the door. 'Sugarcube Corner'. How cute.
Was this surely the place? By now it seemd that this whole settlement is nothing but Raiders. How could these Lookouts have a hideout here?
Deadtrott listened in a bit to what could be inside this building. He opened the door and entered. We finally cought a brake for once. There was nopony inside.
The interior of the house was pretty much as I expected for a Raider house. Chains hanging from the roof, bones and gore bags in the corners. Looked like shit, and smelled like piss.
I hoped to whatever passes as valuable in my life, that the Lookouts Hideout would be nothing like this.
And then Deadtrott approached a staircase, though he didn't went up the stairs.
Instead he placed his hoof on the staircase-handle, which was very oddly shaped. I assumed it was meant to resemble some other pre-war crap a slave pony like me woudl know absolutely nothing about.
Suddenly I heard clicking noises, and then the handle started changing shapes. Suddenly a huge whole opened on the floor.
It all hit me then. A secret hideout hidden underneath a house, which apperently can be opened only by pushing the switch cleverly disguised as a staircase handle.
Deadtrott jumped into the darkness in the floor. Oh how great, we travel into the darkness yet again.
I heard the door closing above us. For a minute I thought I was blinded.
Then I heard guns. Somepony, more than one, were close to us, and were probably aiming at us.
"Relax, it's me."
Deadtrott said in his usual 'cheery' attitude.
"You can never be sure."
Somepony spoke from the shadows, and finally revieled themselves.
Two Ponies. I immedeatly assumed they were the Lookouts. They wore Combat Armors and were armed with assault rifles that were in pretty good conditions. Almost perfect. I was surprised. Almost no scratches at all.
Only two things in their outfits gave away that they were Lookouts. They were strange tech-goggles that apperently had wires and buttons around them. The Lookouts are technologically advanced too? The second thing, were the symbols on their shoulders. A crossed rifle and horn of a unicorn, with three stars around them.
"Took you long enough Deadtrott. Is that him?"
"Yeah, and I can tell the rest later, he needs Sunlight medical help."
Oh, so NOW he cares if I live.
"Well, come on, let's get inside. Sunlight is dying for the good news"
And this reminded me of something I completely forgot in all the shit I've been through. I finally get to meet this 'Mother' of mine.
I started loosing sight again. I constantly closed my eyes and opened. Closed and opened, closed and opened.
I saw Deadtrott now carrying me through a strange corridor. Concrete walls, and electric lights that work perfectly. We passed a few more Lookout members that looked at me as we went by them.
I saw in them the kind of glare I never saw before ever in my life. They looked at me with concern. A slave pony from Out Town would barely recognize sympathy in somepony's look. I did not expect this kind of welcome at all. Everypony we passed looked at me with concern and care. They showed worries about me being unconcious and with no movement as if I was dead. And they all actually gave a damn about me.
And strangely enough . . . . . . . . . . if felt really, really, really good . . . . .
As I shifted between sleeping and conciousness over and over again, I then felt lying on something different flat on my back. I felt the leather. It was an operating table. But this time, I was about to actually recieve treatment.
Back in Out Town, there were operating tables, and most of them were not for the good kind of operations. The only time I was on one, I was lucky I begged myself out ot it. But not this time.
I lied knowing that somepony was about to stiff my wounds and fix my scratches. Cieling lights pointed at me were bright but not blinding.
A mare suddenly showed up. She had a gold yellow coat and wore a white coat. This was certianly the medic of the Lookouts. And her mane and tail were red. Almsot as red as mine, this suddenly came to my mind when I saw her.
Just like the Pony's before, this one showed sympathy and care too in her eyes. Even more than the others. But in her eyes, I saw much more.
I saw tears.
Not only that, but her eyes looked very familiar.
She spoke slowly and softly as she placed one of her hoofs on my cheeck.
"Gideon . . . . . . Oh . . my son . . . . . my little baby son . . . . You're finally home."
Turns out, those were tears of relief.
And those eyes, were blue . . . . . . . . . . just like mine.
Gideon . . . . meet your Mother, Sunlight Flower.
"I know, you must be in a lot of pain. But don't worry Gideon. This will be all over soon. I'm here for you now."
I was too weak to say anything. And I was too weak to move my head and look as I heard her prepping the medical infirmary behind me. The beeping sounds were a reassurance that my heart was till working.
This is what she must have meant on the message when she said she was needed here. She's apperently the medic of the Lookouts.
She than placed an Anasthetic tube on my mouth.
"Here, this will help you relax. When you'll wake up, you'll be fully healthy."
I took those words of reassurance to my heart. I fell asleep.
There was something about her that much like many things here, felt very new to me. How softly she spoke, and how much she sounded like she cared . . . . . . . . .
For the first time in my life, I actually felt like somepony actually really cared about me, and for the first time in my life, mere words of reassurance finally worked. For the first time, I finally, at last, felt truly safe.
Footnote: Level Up.
Fallout Equestria – Morals of the Wasteland
Chapter 7: A Safe Haven as Home
“When you’ll get to us . . . . . then you can start asking questions. Gideon, I repeat . . . . . I do not expect you to forgive me. You have every right not to love me. I’m obviously not a great Mother, if I let my baby to be raised in a town of slavery. But at least you’ll be safe here, and you will have a better life, than one in chains.”
“They call themselves 'The Lookouts', as they look out for any help they find.”
“Yes, I did knew that Pony, and that's all we're gonna talk about in this regard.”
“. . . . you're one of those that Red Eye sent after the kid.”
“I know, you must be in a lot of pain. But don't worry Gideon. This will be all over soon. I'm here for you now.”
"Gideon . . . . meet your Mother, Sunlight Flower."
"As far as I cared after hearing that message, a Mother was nothing to me but just a pony who gives birth to you."
“Forget not those who came before”
Chapter 7: A Safe Haven as Home
I figured I should get used to waking up after nearly dying by now. But for a decent change, somepony else was waking me up this time.
I opened my eyes, and things took all kinds of a new turn.
This time I woke up while lying on a comfortable bed flat on my back, unlike the time before when I woke up on cold metal train-tracks. And this time I didn't smell Deadtrott's radioactive, rotten blood. Instead I smelled things I wasn't able to describe at the time. Smell of brand new, un-scavenged, clean medicine.
"This is what a proper clinic smells like" I thought to myself as I realized this is where I woke up.
Slowly I regained consciousness, and I started feeling being wrapped in bandages. I thought that maybe it was still this paralyzing shit that Deadtrott injected me with, but no. This time I could move, and I didn't felt that much pain.
Grey everywhere, grey here, grey there, not to mention the grey. This was just the ceiling. I then finally tried to raise my head, probably hoping the rest of wherever I am wouldn't be the same color.
"There, there Gideon, don't rush. You're gonna be fine."
Somepony suddenly spoke while placing hoofs on my shoulders slowly and gently stopping me from getting up.
"How are you feeling?"
I instead turned my head to the right. I saw a Unicorn mare.
Now for a second I could have mistaken it with a mirror, but this was the same mare I saw before I lost consciousness. A mane as red as blood, and eyes crystal blue, like mine. But a gold yellow coat unlike mine.
I had another glorious opportunity of being somepony's concern. Just like before, I felt something pleasant as I saw another pony looking at me with care and love.
There was no doubt. This mare was the mare from the message. This mare was Sunlight Flower.
And even if I just met her before passing out, seeing her a second time was just as equally incredible.
I finally spoke. And wouldn't you know it, I answered a question with a question. And I just woke up from a near death-experience, so I didn't spoke straight.
"Are you her? Are you . . . . . . . . my Mother?"
"Yes Gideon" She answered "It's me. You're safe now."
Then I remembered she just asked me a question.
"I . . . . I don't know, I . . . . . . I think I'm okay . . ."
I actually did felt well. I didn't feel any pain. I didn't even feel my hoofs numb after all that trotting back there. No horseshoes and a wasteland of nothingness will do that to you. Seems my Mother was an excellent medic.
She continued speaking to me in her sweet motherly way. All those words I'm using to describe her, at that time I was still convinced that those kinds of words were meaningless in this world.
"After hearing about everything you've been through, I was surprised you were still in one piece. But you're a strong little colt. You are capable of surviving."
I liked to believe that I can survive on my own. And I did survive this time . . . . . . . . . not exactly thanks to her.
I finally started feeling all my strength back. I stood up and just sat on my bed.
I noticed being wrapped in even more bandages than first felt. And my PipBuck was gone too. It was replaced with more bandages. She noticed me looking at where it used to be.
"I had to take it off. You had your light on it the whole time, it was overheating. I wish I could have done something about that scar though."
She was off course referring to the one that Deadtrott gave me, back there when he struck me in that tunnel. Apparently, when radioactive Ghouls hit you hard enough in the face, the scars are permanent for some reason. This was certainly was, just like the damage on my nose I had since I was a little kid.
My neck however felt heavier. I thought that maybe all this medicine was giving me side effects, because my slave-collar felt heavier.
I touched what I had on my neck, but it didn't felt like rusty metal and wires. I felt more soft and plushy bandages.
"Don't worry Gideon. You are no longer under anypony's leash."
She said that to me as she levitated the old detached collar with her magic, showing me that it's no longer around my neck.
I admitted that it was quite a nice and memorable view; seeing that ticking leash detached, no longer around my neck, no longer controlling my life. I've led out a small grin on my face.
It almost made up for her sending Deadtrott to save me.
She had still to explain everything though.
"Your 'friend', the trotting corpse back there, he didn't make it easy for me at all."
This was a hint for her to start explaining everything. Just like she promised she would in that message.
She than changed her face from "happily relieved" to "shamefully concerned". Normally kids should have some worries about upsetting their Mothers, but I wasn't a normal kid, and this was not a normal situation.
I was just so turned off with this whole scenario that I was rotting in a slave-town of Raiders, while it took her 8 years to come send SOME help. She sends somepony who could have just as well killed me.
"Gideon . . . . . . I am aware how bad it was. You think Deadtrott keeps a secret what he does? He told about all the times he hurt you. And the way he described Out Town, it sounds like it's really gotten worse since I left that terrible place."
She was close to crying.
"When you were born, the Raiders immediately saw that as just another pretty audition to their population of slaves. I tried my hardest to protect you then, but just a few days before you've turned 2, they sold me to other slavers as soon as the chance came. They didn't even offered that much caps, they just sold me, because they wanted to watch me beg."
Maybe she began that description, because she wanted to me to sympathize. And while I would sympathize to ANYPONY who like lived in Out Town, I still remembered what she said in her message. "I don't expect you to forgive me" , and I honestly found it difficult to forgive her.
"I don't need another description of the pain and misery I am fairly acquainted with."
I might have pushed her a bit. She led out some tears. For reals this time.
"The slavers that I belonged to then weren't better. I managed to brake from their clutches only after 3 years. And their deaths were the only way to get free."
It's true that the best way to get your freedom is by killing those holding your chains, but at least I knew that my Mother was apparently a fighter like me, since she killed HER chain-holders.
"I then spent another 3 years to gather my strength, knowledge, and skills to get back to you. And to find some place, or group in the Wasteland to belong to. I wasn't gonna free my son just to raise him nowhere."
It sure took her long enough. I thought of saying that to her, but I then thought that maybe I pushed her hard enough. She WAS giving me the promised explanation afterall.
"While I DID considered places like New Appleloosa and even Friendship City, the Lookouts found me first. I told them everything about me and you. But all they offered, was sympathy. They doubted that you were still alive after all this time, and they only THEN learned about Out Town. From me. They scouted it once from a distance, but the defenses, and the numbers of the Raiders, they were all too big. They just gave up on a fight they knew they wouldn't win."
The Lookouts clearly were too busy saving the OTHER less fortunate, if they gave up on everypony in Out Town. I believed that they were not as great as they claimed to be, but in time I realized that maybe Out Town IS too much, for anypony.
Afterall, Out Town isn't just a town, it's a damn huge, mazed-up city, fully supplied and fortified.
"And that was all before I met Deadtrott."
Oh, right. HIM!
At this point, I almost forgot that he was even a member of the Lookouts. Now that I could make a comparison, that psychotic bastard could have been more at home among Raiders.
"I know what he is in your eyes, but about him and me, all you need to know, is that I understand him more than anypony else, which is why he eventually agreed to help me. He did it, only because I asked."
"I cannot picture him helping others just like THAT. I just can't" I responded.
"Then don't. I prefer not saying how I earned his friendship."
However she DID, it must have cost a lot. Just being acquainted with him is bad enough.
"Out Town Raiders did business only with Ponies they knew. Talons, Slavers, other such vices. That meant that if I came for you myself, without my most recent 'owners', the first thing they would do is grab new explosive collars for me. And Deadtrott just happened to have connections with Slavers. He agreed to help, and now were here."
Now finally she got to the part of why she didn't come herself. Her explanations were now over, and she began waiting for my response.
I did not know what to think.
The way she explained it all, it really seemed like all the odds were against her. I mean, I barely had any odds on my side. And would I have done better if I was in her position? I wouldn't know, I never cared about anypony as much.
Her message clearly stated, "I don't expect you to forgive me" . And she also said "I'm obviously not a great mother if I can't protect my own child" . Despite where we are now, she really seemed to believe that she still failed. I would have simply responded based on the circumstances that would let me live. But this isn't Out Town.
I had to remember that now for the first time in my life, I was actually safe. This was my new home. My new life, that was long promised to be better.
What would be the point of holding a grudge against somepony who would happen to be your Mother?
Did I really once view Mothers as just people who give birth to you? No.
Other colt slaves like me, they used to cry a lot about how their Mothers were either killed before their very eyes, or how they were separated from their parents. I used to respond to them, "At least you HAD Mothers".
Mothers were guardians and caretakers. They were ponies in your life that would have always been there for you. Hell, in this world, they would be all that you have in your life. And YOU, would be all that THEY have left in their lives.
Should I have really thrown that away?
"I forgive you"
In that instance, after hearing that, Sunlight looked at me and finally stopped crying.
"I am here now. What's the point of remembering the past? Especially one that I wish I never remembered."
I wasn't saying that to make her feel better, I really preferred not remembering my life as a slave.
Moment of silence passed, and then the ultimate sign of relief in both of us.
"Oh Gideon . . . . . . My son."
I thought I saw her now just as happy as she was at the time she first saw me.
She did something, nopony ever did to me. She held me very, very close to herself, almost held her hoofs around me.
"I promise you son, I will never, ever abandon you ever again. I will be a better Mother. We are a family, and with every bit of strength I have, I will protect my family."
She said that as she held me closer and closer to herself. I started feeling this odd warmth in my heart, it made me feel once again, that I was actually loved and somepony cared about me. I didn't had any thoughts at all at that time. I just did the same. I held my mother around her chest, almost trying to reach my hoofs together on her back.
I realized, I actually loved my Mother.
And it took me this long to no longer being surprised by this moment. This was a simple hug. I then let out a few tears too.
At that moment, I officially recognized this mare as my Mother, my caretaker, and my only family in this world.
If only the Raiders would hear me saying all this now. They would call it pathetic and pitiful. Well, I guess that's what family-love is. Pathetic and pitiful. But I will protect it. I will never let anypony take that away from me.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually had something for myself that was worth having. And it was worth fighting for. Worth caring about.
Me and my Mother were a family. And I will never let anypony take that away from me. The Wasteland that I started to know more and more, would undoubtedly try to take that away from me. But I will not let it. Will the odds be against me? The odds can go buck themselves, because I am not losing all the love I have left in my life ever again.
From that day forth, I called this mare only one name. I called her "Mom".
_______________________
After wrapping up all the bandages one more time, Mom took me to show me around my new home.
All that I knew about this new home so far is that it is underground, probably very deep.
It was quite a place I've never been to, let alone thought I could live at. Concrete walls, metal sliding blast doors, actual electric lights lighting up almost every corner and edge of every room and hallway. I was having the same claustrophobic feelings I had back in that tunnel under the mountain.
Mom lead me through a hallway, probably to introduce me to the Lookouts. The rooms we passed were even labeled with signs. I'd expect them to be labeled with numbers, but strangely they were instead labeled with pictures of different colored round 'things', with lines underneath them.
"What the hay are those things?"
Mom got kinda confused as I asked the question, thinking I was referring to the doors. But then she lead out a grin on her face and answered. "They're called balloons. It's . . . kinda of a long story. It's just another funny object from before the war"
Probably ones we'll never see again. The minute she used the description 'from before the war' I immediately gave up interest in those, 'balloons'. It DOES sound like something from the times before the bombs, having such a weird-sounding name.
Finally we passed the last door into a large room. This one for a change had the ceiling a lot higher, but that's not what got my attention.
The weird balloon-thingies was odd enough on those door-signs. Now I just entered a room chuck-full of even weirder stuff that just had "before the bombs" written all over it.
Now I was in a room where a bunch of actual balloons were lying around everywhere, mostly scraped into corners. Aside from that, there were strange pieces of plastic hanging from the ceiling, all shaped like weird animals, and I mean even weirder than ones you meet in the Wasteland, so much that they look ridiculous. All the other stuff that were around here were even weirder and harder to describe.
"Believe it or not Gideon, these things were once part of something that always brought joy and happiness into Ponies. A Party"
I always imagined that if I were to actually see the world before the bombs, I would not recognize it, but this? This was the absolutely weirdest shit.
But the biggest thing in this room was something I DID recognized. The Flag of the Lookouts. Just like I saw those guards back there having on their shoulders. A crossed white rifle and white horn of a unicorn, with three white stars around them all on a grayish-blue surface.
Underneath this giant banner hanging on the wall right below the ceiling, words were written, all in different colors.
Red, "Loyalty". Orange "Honesty". Green "Generosity". Blue "Laughter". Pink "Kindness". And Purple "Magic".
This looked way too important. "Magic" probably wasn't referring to the kind that all Unicorns use. And all these other words written there, I assumed they were part of the Lookouts motto.
"Sunlight!" I heard someone shout, an almost authoritive sounding voice. I assumed somepony in charge.
Several other Ponies approached us. Some Unicorns, some Earth ponies. They all wore something that I assumed was some unusual clothing that all Lookouts wore. And just like those soldiers I saw before, they all had some technological goggles and the same pictures either on their shoulders, helmets, or torso's. The Lookouts banner was everywhere, right next to all the weird shit I couldn't describe.
Some of them looked a lot older than Mom, some even looked like they were the same age. But the oldest, and also the biggest stallion that approached us seemed to have been the leader.
"He's the one, isn't he?" the bald, blue coated unicorn with big green eyes asked. While all the Lookout soldiers had just small pictures of the Lookouts flag on their clothes, he wore a huge metal armor on his chest that had the flag painted on it. He wore underneath a dark leather armor, covered with a bandolier full of ammo.
"Yes Erwin." My Mom answered to the big guy "This is my son, Gideon."
In response, the big stallion smiled looking at me and said "Well of course he is. You have your Mother's eyes kid."
I would have thanked, but the smile he expressed made the guy look so damn welcoming I almost couldn't believe again that somepony cared about me. This one looked like he could easily brake me in half with one hoof, and he just appears so friendly and happy.
He then responded again to Mom.
"I got a few boys working on his cabin so he can rest. He really looks like he's been through enough."
The suddenly one of the soldiers behind him spoke.
"Yes Colonel, now that you actually see one of the worst doings of those bucking Raiders, maybe you'll consider actually taking some actions against that hell?"
The 'Colonel', whose name I now knew was Erwin, didn't took that very well.
"Soldier! We've already been over this time and time again. Now until the next Council meeting, I don't want to hear another word about it! Understood?"
This soldier was dismissed and responded equally not well.
"Yes, SIR."
So these Lookouts had some kind of council too? They were certainly a well organized bunch.
Then the unicorn approached me and bent his hoofs a bit so that our heads would be on the same level. He even had the decency to not look down on me like all who owned me always did, to remind me my place in the dirt.
"Gideon, it’s my pleasure to meet you. My name is Erwin Mustang. I am the leader of the Lookouts. And I guess there's nothing better I can say than 'Welcome to our home', which is now YOU'R home as well."
One of the mare soldiers behind him then spoke after I remained silent for a while.
"From the report that the twins gave us about Out Town, I wouldn't be surprised if he never heard of the term 'Thank you'."
I WAS actually familiar with the term. But it barely occurred in my life to say it, and actually mean it.
All the 'goodness' and 'politeness' was rubbing off on me, I realized as I finally spoke to Colonel Erwin.
"Don't misunderstand me Mister Colonel Erwin. I DO thank you for this welcoming."
He continued smiling in response, and then turned back to his soldiers.
"You go ahead, I'll be right there. Let me just show our new face around."
They responded "Yes Colonel" with a nod.
"Come, I'll show you to your room." He told me while pointing me to the door from which I first thought he and the soldiers came from.
Me and Mom followed him and as if him being bald wasn't weird enough, he apparently also didn't had a tail. I'm sure there's a story involving danger behind that.
Right before entering another hallway, I took one last look at that giant banner. I took a bit more attention at those words inscribed.
"Those words?" I asked "On that banner back there, they are the some kind of motto of the Lookouts?"
He looked back for a second.
"You could say that." he answered "How much do you know about how the war went?"
I seemed to have grown fond of questions being answers to questions.
"What's there to know?" I said "Before the war, this world was named Equestria. Everything is beautiful and preachy. Then the Zebra's come out of nowhere, they fight over the resources with Ponykind, they create bigger and stronger weapons and both races end up blowing each other up."
Mom showed a bit of concern in my answer. That was basic knowledge, and at that moment it turned out that there's more that I didn't know. Colonel Erwin was making it all clear to me now.
"You want to understand what exactly these words mean to us? Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, Honesty, Loyalty, and Magic? We need to take you back a bit, to before the bombs fell."
It seemed like the road to my room was a bit long, so he had enough time to tell me everything. But he still lead us at a slow paste.
"At wars, soldiers do what their leaders tell them to do. And what seemed to have the most authority in the Pony Army, were the Ministries.
They were 6 pre-war governmental institutions that helped Ponykind fight back. Each of those institutions were covering certain particular subjects.
There was the Ministry of Arcane Sciences, which studied and researched magic in general, and invented ways of using it for the war effort, be it in counter-offensive or attack.
Ministry of Image, that pretty much handled Propaganda. Turns out, propaganda and war go together like a pistol and an ammo magazine.
The Ministry of Morale, that covered exactly what it says, Morale.
Ministry of Wartime Technology, that produced most of what are today's instruments of survival. They were once meant to be the instruments of defense, turned out to be the co-creators of destruction.
There was also the Ministry of Peace, which despite its name, had only the purpose of producing and researching medicine.
And there's the Ministry of Awesome. Nopony really knows what was the purpose of that ministry. From the name most assume it was just formed by its director so that she could show off her skills or something. But in deeper research we discovered it was actually an operation specializing in infiltration and espionage."
This was all complex, but I understood most of it, and I paid attention remembering him saying that I need to know this, if I wanna know what the lookouts believe in. I thought I had to know that, if I was now basically one of them.
We passed one soldier on our way, and we took a turn to the left and then to the right as we trotted. But just as we reached another door, he finally got to the point.
"Well, I bore you with enough advanced history of the war, but what's more important are the directors of all those ministries. They were simply known as the 'Ministry Mares', but, but what's more important, is what they represented before the war."
He told me that just as he finished typing a keyboard next to the door, and it opened to us very slowly. The rooms and hallways we passed might have been fairly well lighted, but I was almost blinded by the light that stuck out for a while as the door opened.
We were in another even bigger main hall, than the one before, and it also had all those balloons and weird toys around. We were now on a higher floor, almost a balcony, and below us I saw a bunch of other Ponies.
This place has now become the polar opposite of Out Town.
Everywhere I looked below, I saw Ponies together. Not in a Slave-and-Raider-way. No, I saw little colts even younger than me in the company of older Ponies. Kids and families? Now I may have counted only like three families down there, but that few were still surprising. In my time in Out Town, I could barely picture one image of a happy family, least of all my own.
"How many Lookouts are there exactly?" I asked old Erwin as I finished admiring the view below me.
"There are only 23 of us now, including you. But what you see down there, they are mostly Ponies who are no longer fighters. They are families protecting what little they have left, just like your Mother."
There was some concern in his answer. For a group that's dedicated to the idea of helping the entire Equestrian Wasteland, there didn't seem to have been that many of us.
"How many Fighters ARE there in this group?" I asked.
Erwin answered, this time with more confidence, "Including me? 12. That's why most of the Wasteland doesn't know about us. We don't make ourselves known to any villainous factions out there, until were stronger. For now we mostly operate either from a distance, or silently."
That made sense to me, but as we continued our walk towards "my room", we then went back to our previous topic.
"And those 6 Ministry mares." I asked "You said they represented something before the war."
"Yes they did" he answered as if he didn't forget our topic. "Before the war, there was a different threat to Equestria. Some evil Alicorn Pony became consumed with power and tried to use it to cause eternal night. The 6 mares, with the help of magical elements defeated the evil villain."
Mom then continued for him.
"Those elements were called 'Elements of Harmony'. They were very powerful magic artifacts that helped sustain harmony within Equestria. Their origins date back just as long as the origins of Equestria itself. And each of them represented exactly what you saw written on our banner. Honesty, Kindness, Generosity, Loyalty, Laughter and Magic."
I thought to myself something must have happened to them, if 'today' happened. So I asked a good question.
"What happened to those elements?"
We stopped before some stairs leading down to the floor where the families I saw were.
"Nopony really knows what happened to them." My Mom answered "But given everything that's happened since their last use, it's wildly assumed they were destroyed. Hell, some doubt they ever existed at all."
Then we began going down the stairs and Erwin spoke his last sentence in this conversation.
"But whether they existed or not, the 6 Ministry Mares represented what their Elements were told to represent even at the time of war . . . . . . for a time. But, I- . . . . WE, the Lookouts, we believe that those were indeed the key to Harmony, and that fighting for that Harmony WILL in fact play a large role in re-building this world. If not to what it was before, than at least to the best that it possibly can be now."
The way he said it, and how confident he was . . . . . Erwin truly believed that Harmony can be achieved.
"But well, that answers your initial question. You shouldn't really concern yourself with all this. The Lookout Soldiers are the ones doing the job. All you have to do, is . . . . . . well, just LIVE. You have a family and a home now. Enjoy them."
Those were his dismissive words as he finally came back upstairs, back to his business.
Mom finally continued to lead me to my room.
We were walking pass the families and they all started looking at me. Some were shocked to see my bandages. But one mare, who was standing there with a unicorn colt as young as me said "Welcome to our Home".
The gaze that the colt standing by her gave me, was oddly resembling curiosity. The colt had a light-blue coat, and a dark mane, but he was cutie-markless, like me.
With a closer look, I've seen all the older folk to actually have cutie-marks. I would have given more focus to that sight, but I was still kinda tired.
Eventually we stopped by a door that was among many other doors to what I assumed were homes for each family.
Mom opened the door after punching the numbers on a keyboard, and turned on the lights.
This new home for me, was indescribably better than my old home in Out Town, with every next minute. There were big comfortable sofas around an elegant table with no scratches, a shiny sink, a refrigerator, a few shelves, and a comfortable bed.
"I used to live in this home all alone." she said that to me as we entered. "But knowing that I will soon be reunited with my son, I did some re-furnishing."
Turns out that the bed in THIS room was hers, because she then opened a door to another room where there was more furniture.
"Now that I have my son back, I want to keep him close to me all the time. This is your room."
I almost couldn't comprehend the thought. A big comfortable bed with soft, spotless pillows, a nice desk, another working sink, some lockers, and a drawer, all mine.
"Come on, let me take a look at your wounds."
I sat on that bed. No bed I ever sat on was more comfortable.
Mom was unwrapping some of my bandages and covered my wounds with some medicine she was pulling out of her handbag. She used, only her magic. Luckily she mostly had good news.
"Give it a few hours and some rest, you'll be as good as new."
Colonel Erwin wasn't here, and I honestly wanted to chat a little with my Mother.
"What is this place anyway?"
"Oh, you remember the Ministry Mares?" She answered, as she continued working on my wounds "This place was built by one of them. The Director of the Ministry of Morale was the bearer of the Element of Harmony that represented Laughter."
"She was actually a normal pony like all of her friends that also used the other elements. But she spent her normal life delivering laughter to all around her. For her, smiling was all that you needed to do to be happy."
"She did it by constantly throwing parties for everypony. Some of the weird objects you saw here, were party props that were once most often used. And this place existed even before she and her friends found the Elements of Harmony. She used this place to plan all of her parties in places where they'd be most needed."
"But when the war began, she expanded it, built it to also serve as a shelter just in case. You know the rest."
A whole giant hideout that only served the purpose of preparing parties? It sounded silly and weird, but it paid off if this is now my new home.
"Hello neighbors!"
The blue-coated unicorn colt from before was now suddenly at my rooms doorstep. Mom responded politely.
"Hello Switch."
She then went to introduce us.
"Gideon, this is Switch Blade. He and his family live just next door to us. He's almost the same age as you."
"Pleasure to meet you Gideon." Switch Blade said to me as he held out a hoof towards me.
Shaking hoofs was a bad idea in Out Town. I quickly realized I wasn't there anymore, so I returned the shaken hoof.
"Pleasure's all mine."
Right after we finished shaking hoofs, Mom was by that time finished with my wounds. A lot of bandages still had to be kept on, but as she said, in short time, I'll be as good as new. I was eager to find out what it exactly it felt like to feel "as good as new".
"Oh, and Doctor?" Switch Blade than spoke to my Mom "Miss Mama Malory needs her treatment again."
Among those ponies I DID noticed an old lady. He was probably talking about her.
"Yes, I figured that out the minute you came." She responded with a smile. Apparently whatever treatment she had to give to this old Lady, she seemed to have felt pretty competent about it. Maybe my Mom takes pleasure in her work in stopping Ponies from dying?
"Gideon," I listened the minute she said my name "I need to check on our elderly. Why don't you take that time to get to know Switch? I'm sure the two of you will get along fine."
I'm sure my Mother would do everything to make my new life here happy, and having a friend my age honestly wouldn't hurt. So I responded"Sure" .
"I'll be right back" she said before kissing me on my forehead and leaving the room, all while maintaining a smile.
So now I was alone with Switch Blade. It would have all followed by an awkward silence, but I got off the bed and spoke first.
"So, Switch Blade . . . . . what's your story?"
"Hm, probably boring next to yours." He answered as if I was asking a stupid question with an obvious answer.
"I pretty much grew up on the surface for a time with my parents who were just traders. But after we found the Lookouts, my Dad joined their fighters and now I live here with them. I'm nothing special."
Then Switch Blade was getting ahead of himself in this conversation. He got too excited.
"But the things I heard about YOU? Seriously, I bet your time there made you immune to most pain! And travelling that wasteland without your Mother, it must have been quite an adventure!"
His excitement was gonna eventually get on my nerve, so I responded by giving him a scowl. He noticed it, and stopped.
"Oh uh . . . . . look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have went there, I'm sure it was hard."
If we were gonna be friends, let's not ruin it already in a stupid argument.
"There's nothing exciting about nearly dying! More than once, I might add! But, it's okay, I accept the apology."
He let out a grin, probably relieved that he didn't angered me.
"I'm just glad this is all finally over."
"Hm, well . ." He suddenly continued talking "You better don't say that in front of Colonel Erwin. He always responds, 'it's never over'. He and all the soldiers believe that it is important to be ready for anything, all the time."
That was the Colonel's problem, not mine. I thought of that, but gave a different response to that.
"If he ever WILL be around, I'll make sure to refer to something that doesn't involve combat. Promise you that."
After saying that, I went to check out the sink. I turned on the sprinklers and cold water was pouring. It looked so clean that I couldn't help but drink it. First time I ever tasted water THIS clean, and while water in general doesn't basically have a flavor, I enjoyed the purification.
And while I did, Switch Blade continued our friendly conversation.
"I think I'll consider that term even for things that DON'T involve combat. Like I said, my Father is a soldier, and I will be too, so I need to be ready."
I instantly stopped admiring the crystal clean water and turned back to him.
"A Soldier!? You mean, you wanna fight? Out there? In the Wasteland?"
He came back to his strange smile that resembled fearlessness, a trait I personally often associated with stupidity.
"Well, not like, immediately right NOW. Duh? The Colonel and the others train soldiers. And they do it pretty well. AND he is a good leader, so I'm not scared."
I just found myself a friend, and now I was about to lose him? I immediately responded.
"But, you said that all of your parents are here. This place, it is a great home. Why would you wanna risk losing that?"
"I wouldn't!" He responded "Because I would train hard, and fight even harder, just like my Father. We both know that this world, is 'kill, or be killed', and I will NOT hold any middle ground!"
I sighed and finally responded less politely.
"Suit yourself."
I can't say I didn't expect his response. He wasn't very pleased.
"What? You think I'm crazy, because I want to stop Ponies from dying?"
He continued his speech.
"I mean, YOU have been out there, you saw what kind of hell this world is." He went back to a topic I didn't want to discuss, but I felt so strangely convinced by his words that I didn't know what to say.
"But it's just like the archives and the history says, it once took only 6 normal ponies to make all the difference. If at least one life, mine, can do SOME difference that I want to take it! You sw more than I did, you experienced MORE than I did, so maybe you have a good reason to doubt in fighting, but I haven't seen the horrors yet, and until they drain me, I will do some good in this world."
He suddenly sounded like Mother on that message she sent me. It was all about helping others again. Ones that I instantly realized actually DON'T have it as easy as us.
When I thought about all the crazy shit that tried to kill ME in the past, Feral Ghouls, Raiders, Slavers, Alicorns, when you put it all together, it could really seem like in this Wasteland, life decreases with each next day.
But I still wasn't about to approve of the idea of fighting. Perhaps I just doubted evil can be defeated like those 6 Ministry Mares did, or maybe I was just scared shitless?
"The whole motivation of the Lookouts, is it really all just the idea of helping those who right now as we speak are not as lucky as us? And never expect anything in return?"
I asked him that question as I looked away into a corner. He responded with a lowered voice. Maybe he realized he might have overreacted a bit.
"Uhm, well yes, but . . . . . . . Look if I overreacted a bit, I'm sorry. I'm just tired of everypony thinking that helping others is a joke. I mean, me and my parents, THAT'S how we survived, thanks to Ponies like the Lookouts, ponies who helped because they just knew we needed it."
"They didn't send any for me." That was part of the truth, and I said it.
Switch seemed surprised by the thought, but immediately said, "Y-yeah . . . . . Yes, I've heard. Than . . . . . I suppose you have pretty good reasons not to fight."
And this was part of the overall conclusion. He had his own personal crazy believes and motives to fight just about ANYTHING out there. And I had pretty good reasons NOT to. But whenever the mind struck me, whenever I remembered myself in Out Town. When I pictured myself the way I was, I also see the faces of other slaves that were there with me. And it was generally known that Ponies everywhere out there suffer. Some might actually suffer as badly as I did. And what can I do? I can just sit here, not giving a damn, but . . . . . . . . . . . . . . sitting and not give a damn. Who did that remind me of?
Raiders. Whiplie, Bloody Blade, all of them. That's what THEY would have done.
As I realized that, everything seemed to have changed.
I suddenly clenched my teeth very hard. Imagined I looked as angry as I ever was.
I turned around facing Switch one more time.
"You won't be training alone. I want to fight too."
He seemed surprised by that.
"WHAT!?"
I explained to him my answer. Suddenly it was my turn to give an enormous long speech.
"It's like you said, I saw most of the crazy shit that's going on out there. And you're right, experiencing it myself already IS a good reason not to fight. But guess what? I am not tired yet. I have NOT lost all my strength and will to fight. What's good wasting it here? I will only loose it when I'm dead. And the Wasteland will have to throw in a lot of itself to kill me! I suffered my Hell, and now I'm out of it. But meanwhile dozens, maybe hundreds of Ponies out in the Wasteland are battling theirs! And there are other Ponies who all they do is laugh at them. Raiders, Mercs, Slavers? Thieves and Murderers ALL OF THEM! They made the Wasteland their home, where they can do whatever they want. But before long, all of them will grow to regret their selfish actions."
Switch Blade was still surprised for a second, but then he immediately cam back to his usual smile.
"I KNEW you were a fighter. I mean, you'd have to be pretty strong to survive all this, and still fight."
I responded with a joke "Or crazy like you."
We both in response shared a short laugh.
It might seemed then that his long speech about doing the right thing lit a fire in me. But that wasn't the truth. The truth was, his speech only made me realize what I was originally planning, which was nothing. But then I suddenly remembered all the unfair pain I've been through. And that meant that my sudden motivation to join the Lookouts, was not the sense of doing the morally good thing, like Switch Blade wanted. No, the truth is, the bigger motivation I had, was hatred. I've seen what the Raiders, the Merchs and the Slavers were, and what they did. I as a victim of all those things, did not want to stay that way.
The door to my room then finally opened.
"I'm back" Mom announced her return.
It was obvious that I had to tell her about my decision. I didn't want my new friend Switch to be blamed for it.
"Anyway Switch, it was nice chatting with you. Could we talk more later? Me and my Mom have a lot to talk about to."
He agreed and left.
I sat back on the bed, and noticing it, Mom sat right next to me.
"I'm glad you and Switch get along."
The door behind him closed, and now it was time to tell her. She HAD to know.
"Mom. I think I already get the whole picture of why the Lookouts do what they do." I started the explanation easily. I didn't want to rush immediately to it. "They fight because the Wasteland just simply needs somepony to fight for those who don't have it easier. It's just like you said in that message. The Ponies of the Wasteland have been bleeding long enough, and you bring light and hope to them."
Those were her exact words in that message, and she didn't deny it.
"Yes, we do."
I finally said it, and unsurprisingly she reacted with a shock.
"Mom. I want to join you and the other Lookouts in that fight."
"What!?" She asked loudly "But- No! No! I won't allow you!"
"Mom, you're basically in this fight too! And I can fight , I know I'm capable!"
"But Gideon, You've been there, you'll be killed!"
She was hoping this would convince me, but it didn't. I didn't want her to convince me.
"Mom, I know. I know that surviving the Wasteland is hard, but does that mean that it should be hard for everypony? Mom, my whole life, I was nothing but a slave. All I ever did was what others force me to do. Now I am a free pony, but not only that. Now I also have a chance to actually help others. While I was a slave, I never cared about anypony's fate but my own. I was selfish, and careless. But I don't want others to end up like me. I may still have a Mother, but many others are completely alone in this world. It just seemed like such a waste for me to not do anything."
Mom still expressed worries in her face. And it's not like she worried too much. She obviously didn't want to lose her only son again. But how hard she would keep that from happening, I was about to find out.
I continued my speech. This time I said what she would probably have hoped to hear.
"I know this all looks bad. But I'm not doing this so I can be away from you again, Mom. On the contrary, I'm doing this because I don't want anypony or anything to take away from me my family. You did your hardest to protect me. I will do MY hardest to protect our home. Our friends. And us two."
I looked her straight in the eyes as I explained it all.
This time she didn't cry, but was still sad. She looked away a time or two. But then looked at me again. She then moved close.
"Gideon" she said as she was placing her hoof on my cheek. "It's just that I have just found you after all these years . . . . . . . I don't want to lose you again."
I immediately responded "And you won't." , I took her hoof with both of mine. "I promise you will NOT lose me. And I will not lose you."
It was a hard moment for my Mom. She just found her son again, and now it seemed like she could lose him again.
"Gideon" She spoke again "It's mostly thanks to Erwin that many of us here have survived for so long. If you want to fight, and I can't stop you, than at least listen to everything he says, and let me be there with you. You are right, I am also in this fight, and if my son wants to be a part of it, then let us fight together. Mother and Son."
Was that bad? That she would do everything to not loose me again? No. So off course I agreed.
I didn't even say it. The response I gave her was a simple smile.
She returned that smile and we had another hug. We made promises to each other, that we would not risk losing each other ever again. Sealed it all up with that hug.
Lastly, Mom have then used her magic to levitate her bag up. She took something out of it. I almost forgot that it existed at all. My old PipBuck.
"You're gonna need this"
She levitated it to my hoofs.
This little gadget was the first gift that my Mother gave me. It can actually be very important for me. So much that I'd treasure it. And I WILL treasure it. It will helped me survive, and learning to use it as best as possible will make me do many things.
"Thank you, Mom."
And so, starting soon, I will begin taking the fight back.
Footnote: Level Up.
