Fallout: Equestria - Time Can Bring You Down

The whole place was sterile and clean. And, more than once, I did a double-take at how spacious the whole thing was. Must've been something like an office building inside a tiny garage. It was more sizable inside than it was outside. Must've been some egghead space-time engineering. Dimensional transcendence or something equivalent.

Curled up in my cell waiting for whatever execution they had planned. Didn't know what they wanted. But I had the idea it was an interview or some pansy shit like that. Didn't take much longer for someone to click their baton against my cell. The bars were glistening chrome. Not at all like the rusty iron bars I remembered back home.

Outside my cell stood one of those time police ponies.

Couldn't make out his face that well. For whatever reason, everything about it seemed blurred and jumbled. The best I can compare it to is staring at a reflection in a foggy mirror. I knew the muzzle was there and the general shape of a face, but nothing was solid. Almost doubted that I was even awake. That changed when they spoke up in a blank, orderly tone.

"Ms. Calypso. Time to smell the ashes. Sargeant Chapel wants you in the questioning room. No funny business. I'm gonna cuff you and you're gonna follow. There's snacks, too. So be on your best behavior."

Well. Even though I didn't care for many big authority types... some snacks sounded nice. Sure, I didn't have to eat due to the synthetic, biomechanical nature of my body. But non-irradiated snacks were a rare commodity. Sure, I told myself. I'd play along.

"Noted." I responded, following with what little movement the zipties allowed.

We walked for a good, solid ten minutes. The hallways were the same, sickly shade of white as their infirmiry room. Yeah, I spent some time there for decontamination. Happened right before I entered the building. Didn't have to attend a second detox thankfully, so we skipped right past the makeshift shower room. Was one of those yellow canvas setups with a quick spray down. The people manning the chemical shower also wore thin, crinkly hazmat suits. Wasn't any hazmat suit I'd ever seen before, but they were chrome like most of the uniform.

Even the other time police were walking aluminum cans. A few of them guarded the entrance to the questioning room, armed with slim, plastic-framed rifles. I didn't understand why they weren't in armor. But maybe their guns were enough insurance. Kept my head down till I was brought in and stood at the questioning table.

Sure enough, there were snacks on a plate near my end. Some of it was green and crumbly, other snacks were also green but had a cream-filled center. Everything tasted like soy. Soy and sweet with a weak iron aftertaste. Interesting treats. Better than cardboard and ass aftertastes like the fancy lad snack cakes back at home.

Took a few minutes of stuffing my face before the interrogation started. I had the fortune of being interrogated by some stud in the time police. He has this big jawline and a nice scar across his muzzle bridge. The scar was grisly. And that's why it went so well with a handsome face. He stood at the other end of the table leaning on his rifle. Seemed almost... perfect in a way. We started off with small questions. Tiny concepts in the grand scheme of things.

Questions like 'have you ever heard of the GTF' and 'how do you feel, any nausea or cravings for chocolate milk?'

Standard questions were cleared first. Then came the big leagues. I couldn't really determine which thing I wanted more, a second chance, or a place wherever the time police lived. There, I didn't have to kill anymore. Didn't have to work for those miserable shits in the Institute, either. I listened to every word he said, because I couldn't afford to do anything else.

"Ms. Calypso... Do you understand what I'm saying?" He said, gently slippin on round, circular glasses.

I tilted my head to the side and glanced in his general direction.

"What's with all the questions, doc. You know I'm just a puppet. I don't pull any strings. I just do what I'm told. Why don't you answer my questions for a change?" I asked, lighting myself a cigar.

Security was about to reach for me after going wide-eyed. But the stud asking the questions kept him away. Told him to cut me some slack, since I'd already gotten my work cut out for me. Felt relaxed for once. Well, as relaxed as somepony like me could be. I settled my eyes on his, enjoying the bright magenta.

"So tell me, doc... Where did you find all that time to track me down. How did you know I killed her."

The way he pursed his lip for a moment, I could tell he had a problem surrendering his secrets. But, it didn't hurt to tell me something I couldn't exploit. What would I do, build a time machine for myself? I never would've admitted, but the thought crossed my mind. It really did after he told me all about it.

"When you killed Stained Glass, it jeopardized the entirety of Equestria C-3. Everything was thrown off balance. Including the development of our organization. The change was evident when half of our members disappeared and most of Boston reverted to raider territory. That's not good for anyone. And we need you to fix it."

Couldn't understand why killing one parent could do so much. I could've taken care of that kid. She couldn't have made that big of a difference. Or, rather, I couldn't have been that wrong to be the last one standing. I hid my frown with my usual pokerface and leaned back in my seat. The harsh plastic dug into my fur.

"I'm still here. Why can't I do it instead? Can't be that important if it's just one person, right?"

He shot this look at me before staring at his hooves. I couldn't pick it apart at first, but it might've been a glare.

"It's not about what happens. It's about how. And who does it. Significant events don't happen because just anybody has what it takes. Everyone can try their best. But it'll take more than a few directions to rebuild the Commonwealth."

I rolled my eyes, not having it. The colt was nuts. Destiny, fate, all of that malarkey was just a pre-war school of thought. Didn't mean anything in a dog-eat-dog world. He rest his jawline against his hooves and punched something into a typewriter device. Except, it was flatter, had a screen made of light and showed three-dimensional visuals. We settled into our seats, me sitting back and him keeping rigid. He always had perfect posture.

I lit another Sand Francisco Sunlight and started over.

"I think, therefore I am... Mean anything to you?"

He barely thought it over and stood up to trot around.

His back was facing me.

"You think you can take the world all by yourself? You think you can understand the pain of every single person in the wasteland, let alone a small state like Massachusetts...? Because that's what she did. That's what Stained Glass did. She took everyone in when she could. Gave them homes. Gave them food. Gave them everything they needed even when she didn't have to.

What did you do, Calypso. You killed people for money. You didn't build settlements. You never took anyone into your home. How could you ever, and I mean ever do what she did...?"

He leaned in over the table and stared me down.

"The answer is... you can't. Because you aren't a hero. You never even tried. It's a lot more than clearing raider camps. Or lining the right pocket. It's about why you do it. Don't make me regret giving you a second chance. We'll extract you from your cell tomorrow at noon sharp. Then we can use the chronoviewer to show you why you need to do this. Dismissed."

I stopped him by holding his wrist, forcing him to glance back.

"I'll need a way to contact you... for any concerns I might have."

That made him sigh and give me his number. Said I could be excused for three phonecalls. The other guard escorted me to bed and I tried to sleep.

I couldn't really do it.