Fallout: Saddle Arabia

”What in tarnation?!”

The booming crash of the vault door closing behind me echoed up the tunnel, sounding not unlike the closing of my casket. I felt as if I had just been buried alive, and a shiver passed over me; the momentary thought of ‘no turning back’ making my mouth fill with a sour taste. I shook myself, throwing off the emotions as best I could, while grimacing at the dark cavern before me.

“C’mon, Dusty. You can do better than this.” I was set. I was determined. I was not going to lose heart now. I picked up into a brisk trot, growing accustomed to the fit of my new armor and the weight of my load. The rifle still felt a bit awkward slung across my back, but I didn't feel overly burdened. The light exertion made my muscles sing, and I cherished the thought of burning off my last few days of indulgence with what lay ahead of me.

Damarescus. The ancient city that had survived the Great War more-or-less intact. Whatever balefire missiles had been destined for the city had guttered in the weak atmosphere above the Northern reaches of our imposing desert, falling to detonate in the sands instead. Damarescus had survived the war as much of the rest of Saddle Arabia did, with only a few wayward Equestrian Megaspells finding their way into the desert sands. Damarescus was spared even that, and I guessed that the presence of Stable-Tec in the city had a part to play in staying the executioner’s axe.

Not to say Damarescus wasn’t spared, not by any stretch of imagination. As my mother and her predecessors had told it, there were plenty of other troubles that plagued the city, borne from the necromantic radiation the bombs spread or any other manner of lawlessness that flourished in the wake of two of the world’s major governing powers having blown the other to smithereens.

I was excited to see what Damarescus held for me. So much so that I hardly even realized it when I nearly walked nose first into a door... Both it and the accompanying terminal were dark, looking almost like a shadow on the far wall. I flicked on my PipBuck lamp and played the light over the obstacle, finding no apparent solution to my conundrum. How did one operate a door that didn’t have any power?

With the emergency lever. Duh. I pulled the rusted contraption, flinching as the door slid into the ground with a resounding bang!

’So much for the element of surprise. I’d announced my arrival into the Wasteland as an idiot would have, and won the attention of several red bars on my E.F.S. as the prize. A myriad of horror stories passed my mind in that moment, from shambling, monstrous ghouls to vicious Zebra martial masters, laser-wielding robo-sentries, and the infamous and extremely deadly Hellhounds.

As it turned out, bugs were an issue, and this far underground, they grew rather large. I shoved the ten-mil back into its holster and instead drew Ashur, grinning inwardly as the blade greeted the Wasteland with a kiss of tempered steel. Three swings and three dead bugs later, I swept the light across the room I’d entered. It appeared to be some sort of underground garage for holding wagons. Several of the rotted, rusted hulks lingered on their spots, long brown stains painting the ground away from them. There was next to no light, but I thought I could see the floor along the far wall sloping up, perhaps towards another level. There were several doors down here as well, one of which appeared to house a stairwell to the upper levels.

After dispatching another bug beneath the stairs, I ascended into the unknown, feeling my sense of wonder and awe grow with each new level. I had only just broken a sweat when I reached the last landing, aptly labeled ‘G.’ Pushing out, I saw filtered daylight leaking in from the top of one last ramp, illuminating the level handily. The rusted forms of wagons here seemed more intact than their other, subterranean brethren, and I briefly entertained the idea of bringing one with me. Upon closer inspection, that would have been impossible. It’d take more than a few new wheels and some grease to get one of them moving again. Giddily, I took a swig of water and made for that glancing shaft of golden light pouring into the garage.

I emerged into a world as alien and new to me as anything ever had been. The sunlight was already bright and pervasive, making me squint defensively. The cybernetic eye even took a few moments to re-calibrate, leaving me momentarily blinded. Once it adjusted though, I finally got a good look at my surroundings.

The street I found myself on was cracked, but not completely broken. There were potholes choked with weeds, and the sidewalk was strewn with a modicum of refuse, but it wasn’t the dirty, dusty, lawless husk of a world gone by that my mother had described in her stories. The dull hum of scraping hooves, chatting voices, and wind sucked between buildings filled my ears. In some strange way, it reminded me of the familiar hum of stable machinery.

And what’s more, there were ponies here! Not just any ponies, but Wasteland ponies! Actual, true, honest-to-goodness dwellers of my mother’s infamous Wasteland! At first glance, they seemed to dress the part too. Most of them were clad in tan or mottled brown cloaks that seemed to provide at least some protection from the blowing sand. Exceptions abounded though, from the dirty rags worn by the pony slumped against a nearby wall, to the crisp blue suit worn by one passerby who clearly thought highly of himself. A scant few ponies were wearing nothing at all, though I was so used to nudity inside the stable that I hardly even registered them in my mind.

What I did register is that two of these particular ponies, ones dressed in dark-blue barding and sporting weapons, had suddenly taken a keen interest in the well-armed pony ascending out of what appeared to be a restricted building. My mind scrambled as they began to trot towards me, the unicorn among the pair levitating a rifle towards me, and the other gripping the mouth-trigger of his battle saddle.

“You there! Where’s your band?!” The unicorn barked, pulling up short a few yards from me. I quickly sat on my rump and raised my hooves, hoping that would defuse the situation even a little. My eyes darted to the guard, then to the crowd, and I finally caught onto his meaning.

Everypony on this street - from the guards on up to the snobby one with the suit - had what looked to be an elastic band around their hoof, high on their left foreleg above where my PipBuck would sit. The guards wore yellow bands, while the rich one sported a green one. What did that mean? Did it mean anything?

My mind rushed, even as the unicorn brandished his rifle more threateningly. We were beginning to draw attention to ourselves, in the form of having stopped all other movement on the street. I was acutely aware that all of these ponies with the bands on their legs were looking at me with curiosity. Some were beginning to gravitate this way.

“Uuh…” I floundered momentarily, looking between the two guards and everypony else on the street. “Funny thing, that.” I chuckled, focusing for a moment. The unicorn arched an eyebrow, as if expecting me to continue.

Instead, I vanished. Where once I had sat, now there was nopony, just an empty patch of street. I winced as the knee-jerk reaction from the Earth Pony guard caused him to pull the trigger on his battle saddle, and the street was filled with the echoing retort of shotgun fire. The pellets whizzed through the space I had just occupied, though I was really only a few feet away, trying very hard to keep the spell up despite the ringing in my ears. Chaos consumed the street seconds later, providing me with easy cover while I sidled along a wall and out of sight.

My invisibility spell wasn't too different from the one a standard-issue Stealth Buck came with, but it drained my energy rapidly. I let it drop as soon as I rounded the nearest corner, nearly shocking an old mare sitting against the building with what looked to be a small selection of trinkets on a blanket in front of her. She smiled at me sweetly.

“Are you a zebra?”

“No ma’am,” I smiled back, pulling the hood of my cloak up. “Just passing through.”

Damarescus was busy. Every street I turned down had a myriad of ponies milling about, anywhere from a sparse dozen to hundreds of them moving, talking, and going about their business. I’d been too shocked to notice, but apparently I had discovered ‘Stable-Tec Headquarters,’ and ‘Damarescus City Central’ in the few minutes I’d been on the surface, and as I sidled past a shiny high-rise office building with a few dozen ponies coming and going through its entrance, another alert appeared in the corner of my eye. “You have discovered: Flash Industries Headquarters.”

I couldn’t really stop to survey the sights as much as I would have liked, though. My lack of a band automatically painted me as a target to anypony who would have noticed, to say nothing of the PipBuck on my leg, which identified me as a stable-dweller almost immediately. I kept my cloak pulled tight around me, doing my best to blend in as just another busy-body going about their business. I held my breath as a pair of guards passed by me, but they didn't even look my way. Their eyes were on the crowd and not the individual, watching for disturbances.

So far so good, but I needed one of those bands, and I needed it badly! I ducked into a stinking alleyway, disturbing a few screeching rats in my passing, to survey my PipBuck more thoroughly. The ‘World’ tab had been filled with a few more icons, all of them packed tightly together. Apparently, Stable-Tec Headquarters and Flash Industries Headquarters sat directly opposite one another. Looking around, I could see a few more hollow triangles on my compass, marking areas I hadn’t yet discovered.

How my PipBuck knew these places and where they were in relation to myself was mystifying. It appeared I’d already synced up with the Saddle Arabian Terminal Network, and my PipBuck was updated with new information accordingly. That caused me to purse my lips in frustration, especially considering I was being kept from tracking my mother’s tag by that very same system.

Still. I had a problem, and I needed to fix it. The quickest and easiest way would probably be for me to pilfer one of those bands, somehow. Even though everypony had them, I had the impression they weren’t the sort of thing that was kept readily available. I could likely get one from the building that I’d seen all the guards coming from earlier, but that seemed like I’d be inviting disaster.

First thing’s first, I needed to get to a portion of the city that didn’t have so many ponies. I took a few moments to look up at the towering skyscrapers overhead, surveying the ranks of them marching to my left and right. Directly above me, near what I guessed was the middle of the city, they seemed pristine. Shining glass windows and metal trim were both cleaned and polished (at least some time in the past century) and appeared to house ponies going about their daily lives. I grimaced at the roof of Stable-Tec Headquarters, where my mother had taken me just yesterday. How was I supposed to know we’d ascended through a tower rife with ponies going about their daily lives, as if they didn’t carry one of the most dangerous mares in the entire Wasteland through it’s heart?

As I surveyed the heights, I saw ponies exiting onto balconies, tending to an assortment of gardens and planters. I saw similar balconies on the Flash Industries building, and many others around it. I had to admit, keeping gardens on the sunny side of the buildings was a pretty smart way to make use of so much vertical space.

But after what I guessed to be two miles or so, near the edge of town, the buildings began to shift from well-kept monoliths of progressive technology, to hulking masses of malnourished dilapidation. Shattered windows, rusted support beams, and even a few collapsed floors characterized nearly all of these buildings, which sat in clusters just beyond the wall that Geode had mentioned yesterday. At no more than five stories tall, they were far shorter than anything around them as well. Past that, I couldn’t see with the mirage-like heatwaves rolling off of the street, or the press of pony bodies milling about.

“Think, Diamond, think.” I muttered to myself. “You need information, and you need one of those bands. You’ve got a mission, girl. Find your mother. Beat some sense into her. Get back home.” I sighed, taking a few moments to calm myself. Once I was prepared, I slid myself back into the flow of Damarescus, becoming one with the crowd.

Information, it turned out, was markedly more difficult to come across than I’d anticipated. The Damarescus City Guard was prevalent, with roving patrols of four ponies making their way up and down almost every street. They were thorough as well, poking into alleyways and conversing with the passersby, undoubtedly asking if they had seen anything suspicious or out-of-the-ordinary. I had to activate my invisibility spell several times to avoid them as I wandered about. I followed the hollow triangles on my compass, discovering new areas as they came to me. As the sun began to sink in the sky, stretching the shadows of the city into long, cool mantles of relief, I had made a full circuit of Damarescus’ inner workings.

The city was separated into five sections. North, South, East, West, and Central. Stable-Tec Headquarters and all the other impressive skyscrapers occupied the central sector. The northern section was actually rather sparse, save for groups of guards moving to and from their destinations hurriedly. I’d made quick time through the area, doing my best not to be spotted or pursued. The eastern section seemed to be the center of food trade, with busy fisherponies going to and from the wharfs and docks along the ocean.

South of that, and along the edge of the wall, was what appeared to be the most heavily-populated area, with nearly every building clearly occupied and at capacity. The west, it seemed, was relatively sparse, with only a sparsely-populated market to keep its few denizens company.

I was mystified. The city wasn't anything like I'd ever seen before. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take the time to admire the scenery because the moment anypony saw my PipBuck, they either screamed for the guards or refused to do business with me. I was getting tired of constantly running and using my invisibility to slip away. The stress was beginning to wear on my horn, as well, and I felt the beginnings of burnout begin to set in. It was late in the evening when I gave up on trying to find any information for the day and instead looked for a place to sleep.

What I found was a desolate alleyway occupied by a skittish family of rats and a few dozen cockroaches. The stink of fresh garbage told me I was somewhere that at least saw a modicum of traffic, but I was more-or-less alone as I curled up between two piles of stinking refuse. 'What a first day. I groused, closing my eyes and slowly slipping into unconsciousness...

-~-~-~-

Humming machinery. The scuffle of hooves. I found myself standing in the midst of Stable Alpha, watching a sea of colts and fillies swarm around me as they made their way into the classroom. I followed along behind them, despite my best instinct to stop and survey the surroundings. No matter how hard I mentally screamed at myself to stop moving, I kept going, walking into the open room I'd become so familiar with in my past.

It seemed as if I were stuck in my own body, unable to make it listen to my own commands. Whatever this was, a dream I would guess, I was merely a passenger. It reminded me of the few memory orbs I'd watched, courtesy of my mother and her predecessors. But I was still me. This mare felt comfortable, and real. From the horn on my head to the stray glances of tan mane I'd seen, I was myself.

So why did this feel so wrong? What was happening?

I'd hoped that all would be made clear in time. I stopped trying to fight myself and instead watched as I sat somewhere in the middle of the ponies, eyes trained on the mare at the front of the class. It was Creme, albeit much younger than she was presently. "Hello, my little ponies!" She bubbled, her horn glowing as she pulled down the projector screen and dimmed the lights. "You're all old enough now that your mother has seen fit to start your first trial-"

Oh heavens, no. Not this. Not now. Please, not again...

"And that starts with a history lesson! You're going to learn about the Great War, Saddle Arabia, and Damarescus! Sit quietly for the whole presentation, and I'll give you all a treat!"

The other ponies stopped fidgeting, grinning widely at the prospect of a treat. I was screaming at myself to move, to break this spell, to get up and run. Instead, my cheeks turned into a smile as I shared an excited giggle with my classmates. Horrified, I watched the projector light up, the flickering image populating the far wall with a video I was all too familiar with.

It's not that I was scared of the video. I was scared of what came after it. If this was the beginning of my trials, then my future dreams were undoubtedly going to move forward from there... Indeed, my memory served to be point-accurate, up to the point where my own mother slipped into the classroom and flagged Cream down.

Geode looked better in my dream than the last time I'd seen her. She was more hardy, with rock-solid muscles and a few dozen scars painted across her hide. She wasn't missing an eye anymore, but the cybernetic implant characteristic of all the Head Mares glimmered in her right socket, the red machine sweeping over the class briefly.

Geode and Creme shared a few words as the projection went on. I wanted to listen in to what the two adults were saying, but my dream-self was still occupied watching the film. I only gave them any attention when the door swished open and they left the class. Not even half of the fillies and colts watching the video noticed. We were alone without adult supervision, and the projection was winding down to its final moments.

When it was finally over, the lights in the class automatically came back on full, and the projector slid back into its ceiling tile. Confused murmurs and conversation broke out, some ponies even growing so bold to pull out toys and games. I watched my own body stand up, presumably to join with some fillies talking in the corner, but I was headed off by three imposing young mares.

"Well, well, well... Looks like little Dusty decided to join the big ponies after all."

"H-hey, sis." I mumbled, trying hard not to look up at Topaz. She was Geode's eldest daughter, my half-sister, and a miserable bitch. She and her two cronies, a pegasus filly named Wheatgrass, and an Earth Pony who went by the name Rye. The other two were siblings, but they had been friends of Topaz for as long as I could remember.

"Don't call me your sister," Topaz spat. "You're just a little runt comin' into class way too late. Stay outta my way, and I promise I won't hurt you." She loomed in front of me, almost twice as tall as I was. "... much." We'd drawn a small crowd of ponies by then, only the most absorbed and oblivious of colts and fillies not watching Topaz display dominance over her little sister.

"S-sure thing, Topaz." I felt myself mutter, still not looking directly at her. "I-I won't get in your way at all, I promise."

"Damn right you won't." Topaz snorted, taking a step closer. Her chest pushed up against my head, almost bowling me over with her sheer size. "In fact, I might just have a use for you. Tell you what, Dusty. You're my little helper pony from here on out. Whatever I tell you to do, you do it. Got it?"

"O-okay, Topaz. Whatever you say!" I bubbled, trying to hide my fear with a happy smile. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, first thing's first, why don't you hit yourself?" Topaz mused, stroking her chin as if in thought.

"Wh-what?"

"I said hit yourself." Topaz continued, smooth as could be. "Here, like this. Pick up your hooves." She curled her own around my forelegs, lifting my hooves up in front of my face. I couldn't really fight her like this, and her strength was considerable. "Then you just..." She pulled my hooves away from my face, and I watched in horror as she tensed. "Hit yourself!"

She pushed my hoof forward hard enough that I actually flinched into the blow, catching the edge of my own hoof. She guffawed as I blinked at the blood pouring into my eye, courtesy of a split-open eyebrow. I wasn't sure how or when, but I started screaming and crying, while the ponies around me just laughed.

-~-~-~-

I woke with a startled gasp, sending a trio of rats screeching and scampering away. It was abysmally dark in the alley, but I soon gained vision as my eye booted up and switched to night mode. My vision soon returned, but there was little too be done for the overpowering stench of garbage all around me, or the metallic scent of blood that still clung to my frazzled nerves. I heard nopony moving on the streets, and the sky was dark and filled with stars.

The wonder of seeing the night sky for the first time was lost on me as I fought to reign in the panic I was feeling. My history had just reared it's ugly head at the worst time, and the dreams that had plagued me in the past were back - and worse than ever. My heart thundered in my chest as I extricated myself from the garbage and took inventory of my faculties.

But they might just be able to smell me. I grimaced at the stench rolling off of the garbage and hurried out of the alleyway, checking for the red bars of guards before moving towards the market I'd found yesterday evening. None of the stores were open this early, of course, but a few guards roamed about, making sure the locked merchants stalls weren't being broken into or pilfered.

If I was going to have any luck acquiring a band of my own, it'd be here. Worst-case, I'd at least find some way to clean myself off and get rid of the scent of refuse. Using my invisibility spell where necessary, I managed to evade the guards and get close to some of the storefronts. I made quick work of the lock, though it made me pay in the form of a broken bobby pin. I still had eleven others in my pack, but I couldn't afford to lose many more.

"Or, perhaps it wouldn't be a problem after all." I chuckled. The store seemed to be some sort of general goods outlet, and a quite good one at that. I found sixteen bobby pins, sixty loose caps on the counter, and some ancient Equestrian bits. A key hidden underneath the register's cash drawer led me to a small floor safe, where where I pilfered another two hundred and forty caps, a dozen bullets for my ten-mil, and a battered-looking laser pistol. Rather than rob this poor soul of their defense, I left the pistol, and grinned as I finally hit the jackpot.

A yellow band, sitting atop a folded note in the small compartment at the top of the safe. For Cyan. She should be coming to the south gate of Lowside tomorrow morning. Take this and give it to her, so your sister can join us at last. Love, Mother.

"Sorry, Cyan." I muttered, slipping the band over my armor, halfway up my right foreleg. I felt a little bad about robbing this poor pony their chance to live inside of Damarescus, but in the grand scheme of things, Geode's threat against my home probably didn't bode well for more ponies than just this one. I left the shop, snagging a few bottles of what looked to be clean water on my way out, and locked the door behind me. Sure enough, the roving red bars of guards had turned to the same amber that all the others were.

I drenched myself with the bottles of water, hoping that at least mitigated the smell. My armor was already drying by the time I passed the first patrol, who nodded stoically to me on their way by. I was finally one of the members of Damarescus, albeit under false pretenses and against all my better instincts. I needed this band. Alpha needed this band.

I was better with it.

The north section of the city had previously terrified me, what with the various patrols dashing all over the place, moving with purpose from one area to another. Now that I was able to move around more freely, I took the morning to familiarize myself more with the area. If it weren't for my lack of uniform, I'd probably look like another one of the guards on their way to whatever was going on in this portion of the city.

The hub of activity in this place appeared to be a well-kept, squat office building, with official-looking trellises and columns along the facade. Guards seemed to be moving into and out of the building in groups of five or more, constantly coming and going. Through the still morning air, I could hear orders being barked, and ponies shouting at one another to get moving, or make for some part of the wall in the North. In short, it looked like something big was going down.

I walked up to the building slowly, with my hood down and shades off. The balaclava was bunched around my neck, and I had pulled the cloak back to reveal my weaponry. I kept a slow pace, showing that I wasn't a threat.

"Woah! Hold up, there, pardner!" One of the guards hollered at me, levelling what looked to be a carbine at me. "Show us yer band! Right now!"

"Relax." I spoke, cool and even, raising my right foreleg to show the band there. "I'm a mercenary. Just came in from Neighpton last night." I used the name of one of the towns my mother had mentioned in her stories, hoping my little bluff would stick. At least I looked the part, armed to the teeth and keeping my cool.

"No shit?" The guard lowered his rifle a fraction, shaking his head before raising it again. "Don't matter none, girly! Ain't nopony not a guard gets in this here buildin'! Now scram, afore ah throw ya in the clink!"

"Well, alright then." I shrugged, half-turning to walk away. "I guess you guys really don't need help." I began to count in my head. 'Three... two... aaaand...'

"W-wait, up pardner!" The pony called out to me. I turned and arched an eyebrow, my cybernetic eye scanning his face. Cute, but kinda dirty. "Y'all got some good-lookin', uuh... Guns." He stammered a moment. "Ah c'in put a word in with the captain, but, uuh... Ah ain't s'posed to."

"Would you?" I beamed, flashing him a controlled grin. "I'm a touch low on caps, and this place is busy enough that you lot seem like you could use the help."

"Sit tight. Ah'll be right back." He nodded to the other guard, a unicorn mare who had remained silent during the entire exchange, before slipping inside. I drew some curious look from the guard, but thankfully, she didn't ask any prying questions. I sat on the street while I waited, feigning interest in my PipBuck while I rehearsed my 'story' in my head. It was a simple story, one my mother had used many times before to escape further questioning from guards and strangers alike.

For the time being, I was Equestrian, having braved the Glass Flats to make it here. The loss of my eye was the price to pay, and I'd received the implant from a good doctor in Neighpton.

Hopefully, they wouldn't pry hard enough to see how good of condition it all was. My eye in particular wouldn't have been the product of any wasteland hack using centuries-old technology and worse surgical equipment.

About ten minutes later, the guard from earlier returned, this time with another pony on his heels. "Here she is, sarge."

"I'll be damned, son!" The sergeant gave a low whistle as I grinned at him. "You sure as shit look like you came outta Neighpton! That place is a hellhole, last I heard!"

There went that explanation. I rolled with it, nodding my head faintly. "Got enough scavenge outta there to buy my way into the city." I tapped the band with a soft chuckle. "Cost me a pretty penny to get one of these, too. Last time I rolled through here, they didn't have 'em."

"Well, I don't have the time to explain all that happened since you last been through here, but I can point you to somepony who does. That's for later, though. Holster here tells me you're in the market as a freelancer?"

"Was it the rifle that gave it away?" I teased, offering a hoof. "Name's Cyan."

"Bush." The sergeant shook my hoof and jerked his head to the side, indicating I should follow. "I'll give you the skinny inside." We entered the flow of traffic moving into the building, and I took a brief look around. The lobby appeared to have been modified into a sort of armory, with half of the floor dominated by a huge chain-link enclosure. A single door allowed access inside the enclosed space. It must have been double-hinged, as I spotted a burly - and very grumpy looking - unicorn stallion standing behind one half of the door, cursing up a storm while he magically flung rifles and field kits to a waiting line of uniformed guards. I couldn't tell if his aim was that bad, or if he was really trying to hit the guards in the face with the packs.

"Shape up that line!" Bush barked at the guards, who helped a stumbling guard pony to his hooves and pushed him towards the door. "C'mon, Cyan. This way." He growled, shaking his head as he trotted past the enclosure and further into the building by way of a wide hallway lined with doors at regular intervals. The marble floor was dirty, but not in disrepair. Only minor cracks and chips were visible, evidence not of neglect, but heavy traffic. Other ponies, mostly unicorns, bustled into and out of the offices on either side of the hallway, carrying stacks of papers. All of them looked haggard, likely having worked all night or having just woken up a short while ago.

Bush led me into the third door on our left, a cramped affair with a dozen cubicles stuffed together in a space that wasn't meant to house more than five. Luckily, we were alone as he pulled a sheaf of papers from an overflowing filing cabinet. "Here," he muttered around the papers. I levitated them from him, spreading them out in the air before me. "One of those is a map of the city. The other is the northern sector, where we need the most help. Some raider marem out of Tel'Applebim has moved in on that side of the city, and they've been making our lives hell for the past eight months or so.

"Near as we can tell, there are a few smaller marems and gangs operating under the leadership of one pony in particular, a psycho bitch who goes by 'Crimson.' She and her lieutenants are wreaking havoc on any scavengers stupid enough to try their luck in that part of the city. They've already killed or evicted the former residents up there, and between fighting us at the wall and pushing further west..." he sighed and brushed a hoof through his mane. "Look, we can hold our own without issue, but the Lowsiders are being pushed back week by week. The more territory Crimson takes, the harder it is for us to hold the wall."

"Seems mutually beneficial for you to help the Lowsiders then, right?"

"I don't like it." Bush spat into an overflowing trash bin. "Dirty Lowsiders can rot out there, for all I care. But if we don't put the kibosh on Crimson, she'll be able to flank us sooner than later. What we need you to do," he pointed to one of the more detailed maps, tracing the edge of his hoof up and down a long, straight street. "Is hinder their movement across Saddle Brush Avenue. Anypony looks like they're not poor, sick, or desperate gets a bullet. Can you do that?" His eyes flickered over my shoulder to the rifle, and I chuckled.

"In my sleep."

"What's your range?" He asked, his eyes turned a little more soft. I could recognize a fellow firearm enthusiast, and Shiva certainly was a treat. I pulled the rifle off of my shoulder and held it up, opening the breach so he could see the bolt.

"Trade secret, sorry." I winked. "But, let's just say that if my targets get within fourteen hundred yards, I'm having a really bad day."

"Fourteen... that's almost a mile!" Bush's jaw could have hit the floor as he stared at me incredulously.

"Done better than that a few times too, with a bit of a favorable wind," I added. "Bottom line - you put me on that street, and nothing gets across. Nothing."

"What Malachite would give..." Bush shook his head, and I felt my ears twitch. Geode had mentioned Malachite's name, atop the Stable-Tec Headquarters two days ago. I tried to mask the curiosity in my voice as I sat in one of the empty chairs nearby.

"I've heard 'bout him... He some sort of big-wig around here or something?"

"Who, Malachite?" Bush barked a laugh, shaking his head. "Man, you must have forgotten about a lot of shit since you last been here. Anypony who's anypony knows Malachite! He used to ruck around Saddle Arabia with mother bucking Geode! Their crew was one of the best! Didn't matter what it was. Hellhounds outta Neighpton, roving band of raiders otta Tel'Applebim, even dragons! They took 'em down easier 'n you can say 'Radscorpion Casserole.'" Bush shook his head again, pointing a hoof my way. "Sun musta baked your brain. If you've ever been in Damarescus before today, you'd know who Malachite is."

"Huh." I scratched at my chin, as if I really hadn't heard about Malachite before. "Nope, can't say I've met him before."

"Well duh." Bush chuckled. "He's not the type o' pony you just 'meet.' He's got layers of security around him these days. He stays holed up in S.T.H.Q., runnin' the guard as best he can from behind a desk. But he's got a lot of ponies in the city under his eye, and in his pocket. Trust me, if you're even half as good with that rifle as you claim to be, you're gonna get his attention sooner or later. Speaking of." He looked at a clock on the wall, which I noted had the second hand twitching loosely at the bottom of the dial. "We're gearin' up to make our move at a quarter past six, so you won't have a lot of time to get in position. We'll have another sergeant in the area, goes by the name Broken Hoof. You tell him how many raiders you drop, and we'll pay you accordingly."

"Right." I filed away all the information Bush had given me and left the office, hardly drawing a second glance from the other ponies I passed. Mother's old partner Malachite was holed up in the same building I'd ridden through just two days ago.

I had a target. Now, I just had to get to him.

I ended up not going to Saddle Brush Avenue. There was no way I was wasting valuable ammunition on the likes of raiders, and certainly not for caps, which I had plenty of anyways. Instead, I went invisible around the corner from the building I'd just left, sidling back towards the West end of the city. Now that I had a band of my own, I might just be able to get some useful information out of the merchants and shopkeepers in the market. One thing in particular was bothering me, and it was circling my right forehoof.

What sort of society did Damarescus have with these things? The bands were curiously designed, with no major marks or enchantments on them. They just seemed like some sort of accessory or something. But the reactions I'd been getting out of guards and shopkeepers before I'd acquired one were worrisome to say the least. I had no doubt in my mind if I'd been discovered without one, and been unable to get away, a grim fate would await me. Now that I had one, it felt like an itch on my leg. A weight.

A shackle.

I found a bored-looking peddler with what looked to be bolts of cloth laid out in the steadily-brightening daylight. They were largely dingy and dirty, but a few of the bolts looked colorful enough to pass for decent merchandise. The expression on the merchant's face brightened as I eyed his product, and he made a show of brushing a greasy forelock of his mane out of his face.

"G-good morning, ma'am! How are you today?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you!" I bubbled, putting on a warm smile and stepping closer. He was younger than me by a fair bit, and smaller, too. Definitely not my type, but I could pretend. "I was just walking by, and I couldn't help but notice your product. How much for a bolt?"

"Eer, I-it's forty caps for the good ones, fifteen for the, uuh... not-so-good ones." He mumbled, too caught up looking at my weapons. And maybe at me, I couldn't quite tell. A flush rose to his cheeks, and I knew I had him.

"Oh my! That's not very much... how do you get by?"

"Eer, well..." He looked up and down the street warily, swallowing hard. I leaned in a little to encourage him, my eyes bright and interested. The cybernetic was probably a little scary, but he seemed more smitten by my mane. "I-It's kinda hard, y'know? Mom makes the stuff, whenever she's not doped outta her mind, and sometimes when she is. That's why some of it's cheaper." He pawed at one of the duller bolts in explanation, giving me a sheepish smile. "Jet. Nasty stuff."

"Oh, it sure is!" I had several inhalers in my bag myself. For emergencies only. "I can hardly imagine! Why, it must be so hard for you." I put a little whine in my voice, leaning closer to rub his shoulder with a hoof. He looked like he could have died. "What's your name?"

"I-it's Stitch." He stammered, looking dazed. I gave him my best coquettish smile, stepping closer once more.

"Well, Stitch, I need a little help."

"Anything!" He blurted, perhaps a little too loudly. He glanced up and down the street, but we hadn't drawn anything more than a passing glance. "I-I'll do anything for you, uuh...?"

"Don't worry about my name." I cooed, rubbing his shoulder softly. "You just need to know that I'm from out-of-town, and just passing through."

"Really? You're a traveller?"

"A Desert Strider, to be precise." I purred, close enough now that I could smell his nervous sweat. “I’m honestly shocked you haven’t heard of me yet.” Desert Striders were a legend from the pre-war Saddle Arabia, ponies so wealthy and renown that they could waltz into a town, drop one bauble or trinket from among their collection, and live like Equestrian royalty for the next few weeks. Judging by Stitch’s reaction, the title still carried weight, even one hundred and eighty years past the bombs dropping Idly, I wondered if I really could be a Desert Strider. Mother likely was, with the myriad of ponies who knew her name It wasn’t really a title one got, except by way of popularity. If enough ponies knew your name, you were a Desert Strider.

"You see, it's been a long, long time since I was in Damarescus last." I continued, flashing my yellow band. "These silly bracelets are so tacky, and they cost so much! Why in the world am I forced to wear such a garish thing? I'd much rather wear that charming brooch from Neighjev, but I had to trade it for this gaudy thing." My story continued to make the young buck squirm with excitement, his eyes practically dancing now.

"Oh, you left before the wall went up!" I smiled at that. 'Ah, now we're getting somewhere.' "See, after Geode vanished, her crew settled down here in Damarescus. Malachite and Hightower had never really been friendly towards one another, but things got worse once they were both on the council."

I kept my eye on Stitch while details of the council's history scrolled past my implant. Damarescus was ran by seventy-some-odd ponies who, in the past, had been the heads of the marems that united to found the city itself. Since then, they'd become wealthy merchants, union leaders, and other influential or popular parties. They were, for all intents and purposes, the ruling body of Damarescus, keeping in mind their constituencies as they made laws, regulations, and mandates about how the city would be ran.

"They started arguing more and more, sometimes about stupid stuff like fishing laws and preservation, but most often about important issues like the safety of the city and stuff like that." Stitch was getting excited now, hitting his stride in the story. "A lot of the time, the council would be split either way. But just about two years ago, Malachite called Hightower out on one of her lies. She lost face in a big way, and was kicked off the council." I flinched at that. To be removed from the council would likely be social suicide. She'd been dishonored in a major way.

"I mean, it's all rumor and stuff, but some of the adults talk about her getting kicked off like it wasn't so bad. She was kinda going crazy, saying we needed to help the wasteland, and that the wall is a bad thing." That shocked me, I had to admit. I blinked at the young buck a few times, my confusion apparent.

"The wall is a bad thing, though... isn't it?" He looked shocked at the implication, his expression turned fearful in an instant.

"No! The wall is awesome! It keeps those dirty Lowsiders out there, with the raiders and them."

"Them?" I inquired. He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense.

"The zombies."

Ghouls.

Lowside had a ghoul problem, and a raider problem. Some small part of me couldn't really fault Malachite for putting up a wall now. I shook myself, getting back to the whole point of this conversation. "And the bands...?"

"Oh, those are so we can tell who's who!" He lifted his own hoof, sporting a dirty yellow band. It looked almost like it was moments away from cracking, with a large split on one side. "Green are the higher-ups, the really rich ponies. They live in the towers n' stuff. Yellow are the regular ponies, who live out here in the city. Red ones are Lowsiders who can come into the city, but they need to leave at night time. They usually only trade." He beamed with a bright look. "I can show you a red pony!"

"That... might help." I furrowed my brow, trying to make sense of it all. The pompous pony with his nose in the air the other day had had a green band. I hadn't seen any red-banded ponies yet, but I hadn't really been paying much attention to the merchants after the first few had chased me away.

"Here." Stitch's horn lit up as he penned directions on a nearby bit of scrap cloth. "Stone usually sets up her weapon shop at this place. If not, just ask around. She's kinda popular, brings in a lot of good scraps from outside the wall. That, and you can't really miss her." He giggled like the youth he was. "She's kinda big."

"Hmm." I took the crudely-drawn map from Stitch and surveyed it. She was only four blocks away or so, but she'd be in the neighborhood of some merchants I'd been shooed away by yesterday. I hoped none of them would notice me as I went to seek this pony out. A red-banded scavenger from outside of the wall? I wondered what she'd be like.

Well, big, for one. And if her name was any indication, she'd be an Earth Pony. So, hardy. Probably battle-scarred. And with any luck, very knowledgeable about the wastes. I tucked the directions away and smiled at Stitch.

"Thank you for all your help, Stitch. I think I have everything I need."

"Wait!" He scrambled for a few moments, fishing up one of the not-so-dingy bolts of cloth. It wasn't bright, but the color matched my cloak and balaclava. "Here. It's a gift. For a Desert Strider. What's your name, by the way? This'll make a killer story to tell my friends!" I accepted the bolt of cloth, thinking that maybe my armor's repair spell would use it if I needed it, and pursed my lips at the young unicorn.

"I told you, love." I blew him a kiss and a wink as my invisibility spell charged. "I'm just passing through."

I followed the directions given to me as surreptitiously as I could, keeping a wary eye on the peddlers and merchants I had ran into yesterday. I'd have to talk my way out of an arrest if one of the merchants recognized me and decided to call me out, but hopefully the imposing sight of Shiva slung across my back would make them think twice.

Much to my surprise (and relief,) Stone was incredibly easy to find. She had a small shop set up in the middle of the market, card tables sporting a myriad of weaponry. Many of the pieces were in ill-repair, but there were a few gems that I could make out even as I approached the stall. They ran the gamut from mouth-held blades and batons to a surprisingly shiny anti-materiel rifle.

Stone was conversing with a pegasi customer, so I slowed my approach to give them space. Half the reason she was so easy to find was her impressive stature. Even with her head bent down to talk with the customer, she was easily half again taller than me. She wore combat armor, and it looked like it had seen work. Unless I was mistaken, one of the metal plates along her barrel was dented with a rifle round.

She was grey in complexion, with a dirty-brown mane and dull grey eyes. Her cutie mark was obscured by the armor, but her battle saddle looked like it could carry two heavy machine guns, or maybe one of the modified miniguns I'd heard about. Her hide was crisscrossed with scars and other blemishes, though, making her easily one of the most intimidating figures I'd come across yet.

In many ways, she resembled a younger, bigger Geode.

The other half of the reason she was so easy to find was, as I approached her store, the pegasus snatched a weapon from the table and made an attempt to jet off. With an almost inequine amount of speed, Stone reached out through the space between them and clamped her jaws on the fleeing pony's tail, jerking him to a rough halt mid-air. I thought I could hear her teeth clack together with the strands of tail between them.

Almost immediately, all eyes were on Stone and the pegasus. Including the guards. They began to circle the imposing mare, shouting and hollering.

"Let him go, scavver!" Security guards quickly converged on the two, drawing all manner of weapons. Was... was one of them wielding a power sledge? I kept to the fringe of the conflict, watching how Stone handled such imposing numbers. The sudden activity had toppled the table of weapons, spilling guns and other implements of death onto the dusty street.

"Ee pryin' a rohh ee!" She growled around his tail, still not letting the flapping pegasus go. I knew pegasi could easily carry somepony her weight, but she was somehow clinging to the ground, not giving any leeway.

"Let him go! Last warning!" Security barked, their rifles and shotguns loading with ominous clicks and the sound of slides racking back. I grimaced, my horn glowing. A small bubble floated through the air, stopping above the frantic pegasus. It popped, and as it did so, his eyes closed and his wings stopped flapping. He face-planted into the dirty street, just on time, it seemed. Stone spat his tail out and began rummaging through his saddlebags, grumbling to herself.

"Hey! Get outta there! Baton, arrest her!"

"Here!" She snarled, pulling a sheathed combat knife that was easily the size of my foreleg out of his saddle bags. "Fucker swiped this from m’ table an’ tried t’ fly off!" in the confusion, my eyes caught a few opportunists levitating or snatching the scattered weapons and packing them away themselves. I grabbed a nearby pistol and shotgun myself, if only to use as bargaining chips later.

"Wait, did he really?" The stallion called Baton asked, spitting his trigger bit out. "Boss, whaddya want us to do?"

"He's out cold," the mare in charge nudged the sleeping pegasus, giving a soft 'huh' before turning back to the red-banded scavenger. "Alright. We won't throw you in the clink tonight, Stone, but this is the third time this week. We can't have you roughing up your customers. This is my last warning - we're taking your band and sending you back. If you try this shit again when you get another, we'll take you to S.T.H.Q. and keep ya there." There was a dangerous hint to her voice that made even the tough-looking Stone falter a bit. She grumbled, but nodded.

"Fine. Lemme pack up my shit and we can go." She began looking around for her scattered belongings, only to notice half of them had been nicked. Several ponies were walking away with not-so-inconspicuous whistles. "Fuckin' leeches. The lot o' ya." She mumbled, almost too quiet to be heard. I stepped forward, eager to enact my plan before she was escorted out of the wall. Security looked at me suspiciously, but were too busy shooing away the crowd or carting off the unconscious pegasus to pay me much mind.

"I'm closed, didn't ya hear?" Stone growled, slamming weapons into holsters and back into a large crate.

"Oh I heard," I chuckled, levitating out the shotgun and pistol I'd snatched. "Just thought you'd want these back."

"Aw damn." She sighed, taking them both and tossing them in among the rest of the gear. "Thought I wouldn't get any of them back. Well, take yer pick before I'm done packin', else you won't get nothin."

"I think I'm good on weapons." I chuckled, stepping a little closer so the curious security ponies couldn't hear. Stone tensed visibly, looking at me as if I were crazy. I peered over the brim of my sunglasses at her, a slight smirk on my lips. "What I need is somepony who knows Damarescus."

"Shit on my mane and call me muddy, you're from Alpha!" She breathed, glancing about before throwing a hoof over my shoulders and pulling me close. "Yer gonna get yerself killed, iffen the right ponies find out!" Her desperate tone sent a shiver of worry through my body, and I spared her a curious glance.

"How do you mean?"

"Shut up, keep that PipBuck covered, and don't talk to nopony." She commanded. I furrowed my brow as she hissed once more. "Follow me to the gate and come out on your own. That yellow band will get you in and out of Lowside without any trouble. And remember. Cover. That. PipBuck." She shoved me away, speaking more loudly. "No, I ain't gonna sell my stock for two thousand caps! Y'all must've spit yer bit!" I staggered back, looking incredulous, before catching onto the ruse.

"What, this junk? It's hardly worth one-point-five, let alone two! Plus you just lost half of it to the real thieves!"

"Ah said get outta here!" Stone roared, making the guards surge between us.

"Are you insane?" Baton pushed me back further, his eyes wide. "Stone's crazy! She'd just as soon eat you than sell you anything!"

"Get that psycho outta here!" I spat, making a show at trying to shove past him to get a swipe at Stone, who did the same despite being held back by three guards.

"All right, Stone, let's go." The guards grew more insistent, offering a few kicks in addition to their shoves. Stone acted like she hardly felt it, instead whirling back to the crate with her stock and hauling it up onto her haunches. There had to be at least three dozen weapons in there, but she carried it as if it were nothing. That was on top of her regular saddlebags, which appeared to be pretty full as well. She glared over her shoulder at me and spat before the guards escorted her off. Baton nudged me with a chuckle.

"Seriously, darlin', you'd best be careful. Stone's from Tel Applebim; she's actually crazy. I don't know why Malachite doesn't just put a bullet in her and be done with it." He sighed, shaking his head and turning to help escort the sulking Stone away.

"Hey," I stopped him, gesturing towards the retreating form of Stone and her entourage of six security ponies. "Is she really that much of a problem?"

"Well, not really, I guess." Baton sighed. "Just a nuisance, really. There's rumor she's involved with the Lowsider Revolt, and Malachite's looking for any information to put them down."

"Lowsider Revolt? Over what? Is it really that bad?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. Baton just looked at me quizzically.

"You been here a long time?" He asked.

"First time up here in years." It wasn't exactly a lie. He just shook his head.

"Yeah it's bad. Them damn scavvers want a slice of the city, and they're halfway to tearing down the wall to get at it." He spat, turning away at last. That he didn't mention the ghouls or raiders that were also outside of the walls was concerning. The way I saw it, I could either investigate from within or without. Or maybe a little of both. If anyone was gonna know where Geode was, Malachite seemed like the best bet, with his supposed network of skilled ponies. Then again, something stank to high heaven about the way the ponies in Lowside were being treated. Stone's entourage was turning a corner, and Baton had already caught up to them. I had to make my decision and make it fast.

"Damnit." I sighed, pulling the balaclava up over my muzzle and the hood over my mane.

The gates out of the city were fewer and farther apart than I had anticipated. One gate per wall, with the ocean fulfilling that role on the city's eastern side. There were guard towers and stairwells leading up to the top of the wall here and there, but no way through or over outside of these imposing bits of scenery.

I had tailed Stone and her escort to the western gate, watching from the shadow of an alleyway as the hulking mare held her hoof out to one of the guards at the checkpoint. He snipped her red band off, and she winced as it left her hoof. I realized that, to a Lowsider, entering the city to peddle their wares was probably the only reliable way to make money. They likely had to pay for the privilege of owning one of those bands in the first place.

The checkpoint itself was a chain link and barbed-wire affair, with four ponies standing on a walkway that ran over the aperture. No more than two ponies could have walked through the gap shoulder-to-shoulder, and Stone looked to fill the passage all on her own. Aside from the four watching the way in and out, there were other guards atop the wall, walking back and forth with automatic rifles in their saddles, or held aloft in their magic. A pair of pegasi wheeled overhead, casting fleeting shadows in the mid-day sun. It was shaping up to be hot, and I felt sweltering underneath the hood. I knew it'd only be worse if I took the thing off, so I resigned myself to watching behind the shade of my hood and glasses.

Stone finally disappeared through the gate, trundling down a short set of stairs and out into Lowside proper. I sat back in the alleyway, pondering for a few more moments.

'Do I really want to leave Lowside just yet? There's no telling what Stone is going to get me into on the other side. I might not even be able to make it back after she gets her hooves on me. Did I get everything I need from in here? Should I fish for more information about Malachite?'

Those questions and more ran rampant in my mind, until I finally arrived at a decision.

"Headed out?" Stone's escort had disappeared, walking north along the wall. Only the four ponies watching the gate, the one who had snipped Stone's band, and the guards on the wall remained. I smiled at him, pulling the balaclava down to speak clearly.

"Yup. I had some business with Stone, but I guess she got kicked out...?" At the mention of the arms dealer, the guard nodded in understanding. With my weapons, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that I had dealings with her.

"Yeah, that dumb bitch was through here just a few minutes ago. If you hurry, you can catch her. Just, aah... you might want to take that off when you're out there. Them Lowsiders, they don't care much for we proper Damarescussians."

"Noted." I chuckled, slipping the band off. I stowed it in my bags and pulled the balaclava back up, slipping under the watchful eyes of the four guards standing over the enclosed passageway into and out of Damarescus. When I emerged into the far side, I was shocked by the sudden desolation about me. There was only one guard here, a surly-looking earth pony with two light machineguns strapped to his battle saddle. He glared at me, but turned his attention back to the street before me, which seemed to stretch on forever.

The shimmering heat waves distorted what could have been a pony walking across the street maybe eight or nine blocks away, but other than that, there was nothing out here. No bustling crowds, no press of ponies packing into each street, no corner vendors hawking food, crafts, or supplies.

Just dust and silence. You couldn't even see the patrolling ponies on top of the wall from this side, and the pegasi wheeling overhead were lost in the glare of the sun. The buildings were dilapidated as well, looking much worse for the wear, even on the ground level. Between the wall and the next building was a stand-off distance of maybe a hundred feet or so, and small drifts of sand had blown up against either feature, speaking volumes about the disrepair the city had fallen into on this side.

I didn't linger for long. I needed to track down Stone, and one of the slowly-shifting amber bars to my left looked like it might have been her. I trotted down the street a short ways, looking through windows and in doorways for signs of life. There didn't seem to be much. I thought I'd spotted a pony in some second-story floor halfway down the first block, but a second look betrayed nothing.

It wasn't until I turned the street that I finally saw somepony else. It was Stone, leaning against the wall with a bemused grin on her face.

"Well then. Welcome to Lowside."

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Chez la Filly - you're a mare-killer! You gain special dialogue options with members of the same sex, and you do an additional 10% damage to female targets!

Side Note: Speech 35, Sneak 40