Fallout: Equestria - Echoes

Fallout: Equestria

Echoes

Chapter 3: Treasure and Trashbin

I never traveled between Hollow Shades and another city by hoof. Not even our closest neighbor, Trottingham, to the south. I knew it was a little less than a day’s journey, and I had done such travels during the war. Then, not so long ago, I always had companions. Fellow mages and other soldiers. Now, I was lonely and troubled with so many questions and no pony to answer them. Who survived the end? What happened to the war? How many ponies I had known were somehow still alive? The uninterested rain was focused on Hollow Shades and didn’t follow, though it did abate before I went out of sight.

The overcast sky never ended.

Once I was out of the valley that the city was nestled into, I finally saw what Equestria had become. The green fields and light forest that used to dot the lands between Hollow Shades and Trottingham were now barren, with barely any flora in sight. The plants I did see were ragged. They looked on the verge of death, and nothing looked healthy to consume. Trottingham was in the distance, not the emerging metropolis it was becoming in my time, but the skeletal remains of some distant glory, long forgotten. There were signs of life. Light, clearly artificial, dotted the city, but there was a nearer source. There were small hills between myself and the settlement, but I was certain I could see the glow of this Station place. It was easy to navigate toward it, with the light and the railway to guide me.

Only a few hours after losing sight of Hollow Shades did I find myself staring at what must be the height of post-apocalypse civilization. It was a small fortress built around the overpass where the single track of the main line from Hollow Shades to Trottingham was raised by a concrete foundation over the four rail lines from Fillydelphia to Hoofington. Now the entirety of the concrete foundation was surrounded by a train car wall three cars tall. The overpass was a keep, with mounted guns ponied up, providing good firing lines to all sides of the city. Light peeked out of gaps in the wall and lit the underside of the keep, creating an imposing sight.

In the violent nature of the apocalypse, I suppose train cars were quite functional as prefabricated buildings. Perhaps there were many cities, as the term applied, built from these industrial remnants. Despite the use of advanced technology, the overall structure reminded me of the pre-Discord era castles. All it really needed was a moat.

There were several gates, but the closest to my approach was on the northern side of the overpass. I walked to the gate, sure to keep my hat over my H.E.R. About ten yards from the gate, which was still closed, a stallion at a machine gun called out.

“Welcome to Station. State your business.” His tone was all that: business.

“I heard this is the largest city this side of Trottingham. Perhaps I can find something I’ve lost.”

A larger and handsome stallion leaned out from behind the ramparts. “You must be new around here. Don't think I'd forget such a pretty face around these parts.” The leery stallion stared at me, a wanting look on his face. I suppressed the mild urge to jolt his hindquarters.

What I did instead was give him my best valley mare voice. “I’m new here. Just came out of a stable near Hollow Shades.”

He tipped his helmet up and smiled. “A stable? That's fine news. Why don't you come on in and I'll give you the grand tour.” He waved me into the opening gate.

Just as I entered the threshold the large earth pony stallion stepped off the stairs leading up to the wall. He wasn’t as massive as Big Mac, but my head barely reached his shoulders. He nodded to me and I curtsied back.

His voice was clear and strong. “My name is Big Shot. I’m in charge of security in this city. You’ll find that you never have to worry about raiders and bandits while under my protection.”

Big Shot smiled and waved a hoof for me to follow him down the rail track. I followed, hoping he would at least show me some of the town before trying to bed me.

"Are you an important pony in this mighty town?" My fake enthusiasm reminded me of my few but painful conversations with Blueblood. I hoped this pony wasn’t as entangled into important politics as the probably dead prince. Some genuine cheer filled my smile as I thought of that ass being dead.

"I am. Keep the riff-raff outside out, and keep the ones already in behaving. We keep the security ponies, the guns, and the boss up here above everything else." He gestured to the structure built on the overpass. It was a single large metal building, about two stories tall, as wide as the concrete beneath it.

"Who's the boss?" I was ready to stop playing this game, but I'd like more info, too. Oh, sweet Celestia, please let it not be Prince Blueblood. We entered through a large door that split and slid out and up to both sides as we approached. It slid closed after we stepped through. Looking back, I saw two armed ponies manning the inner gate, and the chains they pulled to move the door. The engineering didn’t look half bad.

"Ivy is the boss. I'm her right hoof." I felt like I successfully hid my relief. He walked slowly through a sorry excuse for a barracks. Rooms were on either side and the bunks inside all had thick curtains drawn. I suspected the night watch was sleeping at the moment.

Once out the other side, I asked, "Who's the left hoof?"

He snorted with a laugh, "That would be Trashbin. He manages all the merchants down below. Keeps them agreeing with each other and keeping my bucks well stocked."

What was with these names. Was there going to be a pony named Wasteland? How about something ridiculous like Raider or Rampage. Actually, that last one sounded swell for this setting. Probably Rampage the Reaper or something like that. Wait, what was that last thing?

“I’m sorry, did you say bucks?”

“Yeah. Bucks, colts, stallions. You don’t talk like that in the stable?”

No. Well, I hardly talked at all in the stable. Anyway, slang was always annoying to me. I did my best to smile through it.

"Well, this here is the boss' office. My office is in here, too." It was a building I would describe as ugly, sharp, rusty, tetanus, and ugly. To be honest, most of this place was that way. At least this one had a door, though. Big Shot opened it and walked in. I followed, hoping for an excuse to ditch the stallion.

The room was the boss' office. There were couches on either side of the door, doors next to those, and in front of me was a large desk that was barren but for a ministry mare statuette and some paperwork. Behind the desk was a dark green earth pony mare who I guessed was Ivy, staring at us like a pair of weeds to be picked and tossed from her garden. Ivy said something, but I didn't quite hear it. Mounted on the wall behind her was my sword.

"That's mine." She blinked at me, her mouth frozen open.

"Come again?" Her tone was firm but her voice was somewhat soft. Like she didn't belong in such a harsh setting.

"That sword is mine. I'd like it back." Big Shot and Ivy looked at the sword.

"I get rights to the best items from any salvage. That sword was the best damn thing to come out of Hollow Shades in years. That makes it mine-"

"It's my sword. My name is on it. It belongs to me." Big Shot looked me over again, this time wondering more than how I would look in his bed. Ivy stood up, carefully taking the sword down and placing it on the desk.

"I've never seen you before, and if Big Shot is giving you the tour," she glared at him, "which I'm sure he is," looking back to me, "then he ain't never seen you, either. What's your name."

"Ruby Moon." She didn't look at the blade's inscription. I'd guess she knew it by heart.

"Any proof?" I knew my wallet would find some use. I pulled it out and floated my ID over to her.

"What in the hell... Captain Ruby Moon, Battlemage, Senior Enchanter, either you figured out how to forge a prewar ID, cure ghouls, or came up with some unicorn wizardry time horseshit."

"I didn't come up with anything. I went into Stable 45 on the last day, something happened, and then I left. Earlier today." Honestly, though, that last thing she said was certainly close to the truth, though I still didn't know what the truth really was.

"Stable 45? Hmm... Now that it's open I'll have to send a team there to investigate. It would be nice to have some stable dwellers to trade with." She started shifting papers around, looking for a specific one.

I shook my head. "There aren't any. When I arrived, the stable was already dead. Some vicious ponies opened the door for me, and I may have blown up the stable on my way out."

She stopped fiddling with papers and sighed. "Look, I don't care if your name is on my sword, it's mine by the wastelands rules. You want it, you'll have to pay for it." Big Shot had scooted away from me and was now standing next to Ivy's desk. Guess I dodged that bullet.

"Bits is what you want? How many bits for my sword?"

At first, she glared. After a glance at the sword, she looked at one of the papers underneath. "I've got a better idea. Rather than pay a wagon of caps, why don't you take care of a little problem we have. Your ID says battlemage and that sounds impressive. Think you can handle a monster?"

I didn’t know what she meant by caps, but I didn’t have any. I was actually lacking in bits, as well, so a job was probably my only option. "What kind of monster and how exactly will it help you?"

She pulled the paper out with her teeth and waved it at me. I floated it in front of me and started to read it. There was a brief description and a crude map.

"We want to expand Station. It's way too crowded, but that means we have the workforce and the motivation. All we need are the materials. We've torn apart all of the trains that we could get here without too much trouble, but we'd like to scavenge this mine. Problem is that a hydra lives there. We want the hydra gone. Dead is ideal, but killing a hydra is a bit much to expect from somepony with no guns."

I looked into her eyes and smiled. "I don't need any guns."

She narrowed her eyes at me. I stared back. Big Shot tried to look small. The door opened and an earth pony stallion wearing more pockets than I've ever seen on one pony walks in.

"New friend of ours?" He asked with a hint of gravel in his voice. His coat looked like it had been lime green but faded with age and his mane was partially white with faint streaks of brown. He walked up to Ivy's desk without hesitation. I suspected this pony was Trashbin.

Ivy swelled with a breath and a twitch of her head. “I hope so. She might just deal with our hydra problem.”

His eyes widened and he waved a hoof. “We don’t- what pay is she taking?”

Ivy tapped my sword. “This is hers. This mare is from before the war.”

He looked at me, eyes still wide. “Ruby Moon, at your service,” I said with a small bow.

He bowed in return. "Ah, a lady of nobility. We haven't seen one of those around here since the last time Tenpony Tower denied our trade."

That was the second time I'd heard about the M.A.S. Manehattan Hub. I would have to visit that place sometime soon.

Actually, concerning my H.E.R., "What about the Canterlot M.A.S. Hub? Is it still active?"

They all looked unsettled. Big actually shivered. Trashbin spoke first. "Canterlot isn't a place anypony wants to be anymore."

I swallowed. I still didn't really know what had happened to Equestria. Sure, I knew what balefire bombs could do, and I knew that the major cities had had detonations, but Canterlot... The Princesses. Could they really be...

I stood straighter and set myself. "Let's get down to business. I deal with the hydra, you give me my sword. Deal?" They regarded me before leaning in and talking. Well, Trashbin and Ivy talked while Big Shot listened.

They parted and Trashbin walked up to me. “It’s my understanding that you’re fresh out of a stable. Fresh into the wasteland. We’ll give you this job and even ten percent of the caps. Why don’t you walk with me.” He walked out the same door he walked in.

I floated my ID, wallet, and the bounty slip into my pocket. "I take care of that, then, and you better have my sword waiting for me on a silver platter." I lifted the sword, startling Ivy, but slid it into the sheath and placed it back on the wall. "It wouldn't hurt to polish it, too." I walked out after Trashbin.

We were standing on a steel balcony overlooking the east side of the overpass, and therefore the east side of Station. This vantage point let me see down into the streets, tightly cramped with crowds of ponies with the wings of griffons scattered throughout.

"So, Mr. Trashbin, what did you want to talk with me about?”

The old pony watched me closely. “What do you think of our hovel?”

“After Hollow Shades, Station is a welcome sight. Before this, all I had met were psychos, ghouls, and slavers.” And two amicable ponies, but I suspected they just wanted to be left alone.

He gave me a chuckle. “So you’ve already seen raiders and slavers? You must be lucky, or something else. If you don’t mind me asking, what were you before the war?”

I now had a name to the crazy ponies outside Stable 45. Raiders. “A scientist. During the war I was a soldier.”

“Soldier? Pretty mare like you?”

I chuckled. “Pretty mares like me can do a lot of harm with an attitude like that.”

The contents of his pockets jingled with his nod. “I don’t doubt it. So what was Celestia like?”

I glared at him. How dare he bring up thoughts I didn’t want to think. What kind of question was that, anyway?

“You aren’t curious. You're trying to figure out if I’m lying about myself.”

Somehow his shrug was silent. “With a story like yours, I think you’ll find many ponies won’t believe you.”

“Then don’t waste my time.” He matched my glare with a smile and paused for more than a moment while regarding me.

“What was Celestia like?”

“She was the most glorious sight I ever had the pleasure and honor of viewing. Her mere presence was enough to calm any but the most villainous of creatures. Princess Celestia was graceful, noble, and wise in equal measure, and by her will, Equestria and the world were at peace for a thousand years. Only when the world was beyond the scope of one pony to pacify did she fail, and we still love her despite that. She is my Princess and you will give her the respect she deserves.”

Once finished, I realized how riled up I had become. He had taken a step away when I had squared up on him and looked one step away from panic. He bowed his head slightly before speaking.

“Princess Celestia.”

“Your respect is observed.”

He smiled again, but it was warmer this time. “I didn’t care enough to believe you or not before, but now I think you are exactly what you say you are.”

My haunches sunk before I turned to look at the dismal city again. Still overcast.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. This isn’t my Equestria. My sword is important to me, but what after that?”

He stepped closer to me, sweeping his gaze across the city before looking at me again. “I first thought you were some over-eager stable dweller who had killed a ghoul or two and thought you could take on the world. Only fools and the truly frightening casually talk about killing a hydra. Now I see what you really are and I’m thankful. You could probably take over this town in five minutes, or just kill everypony who tries to stop you from walking out with that sword, but you’re going to earn it.”

Those raiders made more sense to me now. “I hadn’t even considered that as an option.”

“That is why I’m thankful, but if you want to make a difference here you’ve got to remember that most ponies, neigh, most creatures consider that their first option. Listen, I want you to keep this a secret, but I think you should know.”

He leaned in close. I was a bit baffled but curious. “Out there in the wasteland, there are sprite-bots still floating around. Most spit out those old war recordings, but something is watching from behind those cameras. Whoever it is wants good for the wasteland, and might try to talk to you. All I’m sayin’ is don’t destroy those old bots, and if one ever talks to you, give it a listen.”

He dropped the low tone and flicked me with his tail while he turned. “Now let help you out a bit. Consider it a bonus incentive for taking the job.” He turned to a spiral staircase tucked into the corner of the balcony.

I followed him down the staircase leading to a highrise under the overpass. We didn’t stop at the top, as that was apparently Ivy’s house. Below, at street level, was Trashbin’s abode. To be honest, they all looked the same. Walls, roofs, even the ground had been covered with scraps of metal and wood from mostly trains. While he fidgeted with the locks on his door I had time to admire the sameness of it all while trading suspicious glances with all manner of civilized creatures walking by, including the disgusting mutation of a cow. It had two heads. Considering the degradation of the creature’s skin, I suspected cows didn’t just turn into ghouls. One of the heads watched me while the other talked to a merchant pony. I wondered if they had two minds or not, but set that aside when I followed Trashbin inside.

His house could only be described as a junkyard of trinkets. It seemed as though he had wandered the wasteland searching for anything small of interest and brought it back here, stacked on bookshelves and display cases scavenged with as much care. I felt for Twilight in my pocket, concerned that he might attempt to part her from me, though I admit I was curious if he had his own.

He tiptoed between the aisles, leading to a door in the back corner. Not having to be so careful as his bags made his width almost twice mine, I had time to see that the trinkets were separated by cultural origins and organized by significance. The collection was impressive, especially the zebra items; they would not have been available anywhere in Equestria at the end of the war. This stallion had traveled far and wide or had connections that had done so.

He paused before opening the door. “All this here is my shop. Don’t keep it open, but when a pony asks I let ‘em look through things. Only interesting people ask. Anyways, down here is me house, and where I keep the real treasures.”

The door led to a stairwell down. The room below was lined with lockboxes on the ground and wall lockers bolted to the wall above them. In one corner was a bed and a reinforced ponnican. At the far end was another door. Trashbin walked to a seemingly random locker and started unlocking it.

“This is my humble abode. I’m a bit of a hoarder, but when you’re as old as I am, a lot of things have memories attached. How old are you?”

I hadn’t really thought about that. “If my information is correct, then two hundred and two.”

“Haha, so what? Thirty-something? I’ve got more than two decades on you. So what is the sword to you?”

“Red Mercury is the Gem family sigil sword. It has been passed down for many generations in my family. When I joined the war, my mother, then head of the family, gave me the sword to keep me safe. Since it was forged for battle and those enchantments had not faded, it served me well through a decade of war.”

“Can you kill the hydra without it?”

“You don’t kill a hydra with a sword. That’s just ridiculous. I’ll kill it with magic.”

“Ridiculous. Right. I can’t imagine any other way to put it.” I let him have that one. He opened the double doors and I moved beside him. The cabinet was packed with a half-dozen firearms of various kinds.

I was a bit surprised. I had thought him the peaceful type, but that might just mean he doesn’t shoot first. “You’re no stranger to combat, I see.”

“Miss, this is the wasteland. Nothing is a stranger to combat.” He pulled down one of the guns, a ramshackle thing clearly bolted together from random pieces of metal.

“This is for you. My best pipe gun. I’d give you something fancier, but, well, we did just meet.”

I floated the pipe gun over and took a closer look. Short barrel, small scope, drum magazine, a shaped stock with a spring in it. Even a haphazard three point sling. "Is this a submachine gun? That’s sweet of you."

He held out another drum magazine. “Careful with this. It doesn’t have a safety, but I figure your time in the army taught you trigger discipline.”

I inspected the extra drum. “So this uses .38?” I thought about the armor I had seen on the raiders and slavers. .38 would be enough. “How much would you say this costs?”

He laughed while locking up the weapons locker. “In caps or bits?” I suddenly remembered the piles of caps I had found before. Damn, I might have been rich. “Ivy mentioned that. It’s really what convinced her you weren’t a really clever impersonator. Anyway, this gun and that much ammo? A couple hundred caps, give or take. It’s all barter and negotiation, but that ammo is really common and the gun? Well, what can I say? Wartime weapons will always be worth more than the junk we make ourselves.”

I followed him out of the door in the corner, leading to a dimly lit tunnel. We were now standing on soil, the undercity of Station. I could see that shops lined the path, and even Trashbin’s house appeared to have a windowed shelf for selling goods. Closed, of course. He looked down both paths and back at me. “Is there anything else you needed?”

My life back? “I also had a firearm and barding in my room. If I could find those I would certainly be happier.”

He shrugged before saying, “No guarantees. What are we talking about?”

“IF-44 10mm submachine gun and standard combat barding, both black and bearing a unit insignia with a unicorn skull.”

A bit more white in his eyes was showing. “Those are yours? Well, I can’t help you much. The gun was purchased by a merc from down south. I don’t remember his name but I’ll have it the next time I see ya. The other was bought by some earth pony just a few days ago. She didn’t give her name, but we’re pretty sure she wasn’t just some wastelander. Too much education. But not a stable pony either. Too much experience. I tried talking to her, but she wasn’t interested in chatting.”

That wasn’t the best news, but it was something. “Nothing else, then. I would appreciate directions to a gate.”

He bowed and gestured behind me. We walked down what passed for a street, and the shops were replaced by homes as we got closer to the edge. One last corner and we faced a repurposed garage door, reinforced with extra metal. On one side was a booth containing a lightly armored pony wielding a shotgun. He was looking out a window to the wasteland.

Trashbin approached him. “One leaving, please.” The pony, a stallion, smiled and nodded quickly. He pressed a button and the door slid upward, clunking and creaking as it slid above us.

“I hope to see you soon, Ruby Moon. It has been a rare pleasure.” He bowed deeply.

I curtsied back. “For me as well, kind sir. I daresay you are my first friend in this wasteland.”

After a nodded to the door pony, Trashbin smiled at me until the door lowered between us. With Station now behind me, I began walking to the east. While the settlement was far from Hollow Shades, it was very close to Trottingham.

The edge of the city was about a mile away to the south, and I could see the remains of skyscrapers this side of Napperly Hill, which was in the center of Trottingham. On this side was the naval base and new Trottingham, where most of the skyscrapers and modern buildings were. South of Napperly was the army base and old Trottingham. Several of the tallest buildings close to the hill had severe damage to the highest floors, creating a visible line that was suspiciously similar to the shape of Napperly Hill and I couldn’t see any of the buildings that I knew had been south of it.

To the east five or six miles was Clopstone Colliery, with a few small hills in the way. The terrain was more of the same; dust and dead things. The railway into the mine went straight to Trottingham, so I couldn't follow it without doubling the distance. I would have to hoof it.

Footnote: Updated Perk List. Added Perk: Retention -- You have learned to pay close attention to details during everyday life. You gain +10 to all intelligence rolls to remember facts of any kind.