Chapters Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Author's Note
Rewrote the chapter. Will be doing small edits to all current later chapters, but won't be 'rereleasing' them like I did for this one. If your interesting in waiting for those to be done, then feel free to read them after chapter 8 is released.
Chapter 1: The End
Fallout: Equestria
Echoes
Chapter 1: The End
Thunder rumbled across me. My heart slammed against my breast. Voices yelled out names, curses, and prayers. Hooves thudded in the dirt around my quivering body, and I could not move. The light ebbed, leaving shadows streaking across the wasteland before me until a single shadow loomed across everything I was.
I wanted to run, to move, to act, but my body stayed against my will. My magic had left me alone in the dark. Bullets snapped around me, and yet my feet stayed. The ground shook. A herd of ponies galloped all around me, but they did not see me and I could not call for them. I was alone.
Thunder, again, but not. Dark laughter split the earth, a great crack that came for me like lightning, and I tumbled forward into the void-
"Ruby Moon?"
My sense of smell was assaulted by a twisting blend of untarnished air and the sweet fragrance of fresh perfume. My closest friend pulled on my hoof, pulling me into the crowd of ponies walking through a street. I glanced back to see the La-ti-da Spa. Yes, that was it, this uncomfortable feeling I had. So many years of war had cast out my need to be pampered, the feeling now alien and unfamiliar. Now it was like a skin I wore to cover my- me. Hollow Shades had stayed the same. I had not. I had left my home behind.
"Clean up your face? Check." Meadowsweet pulled me further and giggled at my expense, but I could not fault her. I had needed a good scrub. "Now we stuff it. Let's go find some muffins!"
“Muffins?” I asked. It wasn’t that I didn’t want any. They were sure to be better than army rations, and my stomach agreed, though Meadow did not hear it; she had already started down the street, and I trotted to catch up.
“Of course. A new shop opened up-” she tapped her chin, “oh, three months ago, I think.”
“New? That’s uncommon.” The war didn’t incentivize small business.
“It is. Owner was a sailor out of Trottingham.” She watched me for my reaction, but I gave her none. I hadn’t much to say about sailors. “He saved up all his pay to start a shop when he got out, but Trots wasn’t to his liking anymore.”
Better to come here. The war had hardly touched Hollow Shades. No space for industry, no room for bases. The only changes to the old city were the power plant and the Ministry of Image building.
“Have you thought about what you will do after your time in the military is done?”
I stopped. She would always ask this, and I would always deflect. I was getting tired, though. Of the war and the question.
“I can’t until the war is done.”
She stopped ahead of me but did not turn. Ponies passed us by without a glance.
“Does it really have to be that way?”
Yes, I didn't say. I just took a deep breath, preparing my next words.
"Hello, Ruby."
I blinked at the pink pony before me. Meadow turned, glancing between myself and the newcomer she did not know.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath and it came out as a sigh. "Greetings, Starlight. This is Meadowsweet, a childhood friend of mine. Meadow, this is Starlight Glimmer, one of my fellow Battlemages."
My friend stepped up to her and offered a hoof, which Starlight met. "I work in the Ministry of Peace as a therapist, specializing in Wartime Stress Disorder." That drew a not-so-hidden cringe from Starlight, but I knew my friend was used to that. Soldiers didn't like to hear about WSD.
I wondered why she was here. The Battlemages typically didn't allow more than one of us on leave at once so the unit could remain active. "What brings you to Hollow Shades?"
She shrugged. "I remember you saying it was a nice spot to relax. Onyx Comet had a family issue in Trottingham and was given emergency leave. You were already gone and command didn't have any missions lined up until you returned, so they stood us down." She shrugged. "Here I am, seeing the sights."
Onyx Comet was one of the two stallions in our unit, and quite vocal about his wife and foals. I hoped for the family that it wasn't the worst.
Meadow chimed in, "What did you have planned, Starlight? We lived here when we were younger; we could show you the town."
She waved a hoof. "I wouldn't want to intrude. I'm just going to wander around for a day or so, visit whatever catches my eye."
Meadow curled her lip into a playful pout. "Only a day? Why leave so soon?"
"I'm going to visit a friend in the Crystal City before the end of the week. He's busy today, so I wanted a detour before then. The Crystal City isn't my cup of tea when I'm on my own, but I didn't want to wait around in Hoofington."
Meadowsweet took Starlights hoof in her own. “Then I insist you join us, at least for a snack. We’re on our way to muffins and I’d love to get to know you better.”
Starlight looked at me for help, but I only shrugged. I had never discovered how to say no to Meadowsweet.
We trotted further down Shady Plaza, toward the restaurants. Along the way, I silently listened to Meadowsweet inquire all about Starlight’s childhood. I didn’t know most of what Starlight told her, making me realize how little our unit really talked about our pasts. Meadowsweet showed no signs of slowing as we sat at a table. I noticed she ordered for all three of us, but I suspect Starlight was too distracted to realize.
She finally paused when three sets of three muffins came out. I saw mine were a choice of my favorites, and Starlight looked at the food in confusion.
“I’m sorry, when did we order? I don’t remember choosing these.” She tried to flag down the waiter, but Meadowsweet nudged Starlight’s plate toward her.
“Try them. I think you’ll like them,” Meadowsweet said with a smile.
Starlight glanced between my friend and me while floating up the first muffin and taking a small bite. Widened eyes refocusing on the treat and a second, larger bite revealed the truth.
“So the two of you have been part of the Battlemages since they were created?”
Starlight only nodded. We had seen the unit’s creation. Now we were among all that was left.
Meadowsweet held a muffin in her hoof and glanced at ours, both held in magic. “Six unicorns, using the full range of Equestrian magic to do battle. It’s pretty impressive.”
Starlight tilted her head. “I guess there are six of us now.”
The senses of a Ministry of Peace therapist were sharp, and when my friend looked at me I felt like a liar. Even if I just hadn’t told her yet. Starlight just finished her last muffin.
Meadowsweet set her muffin down and covered her mouth with a hoof. “What happened?”
Starlight and I exchanged a look. I said, “The details are classified.”
My friend raised an eyebrow at me. “There are no secrets in Hollow Shades, Ruby.”
I quickly answered her look. “What Starlight meant was that we consider Flashpoint part of the squad even if he technically isn’t. So he was our seventh. And that we recently had a casualty. So now we are back to six.”
Starlight’s eyes were a bit wide. “All we can tell you is that Nebula was killed.”
Meadowsweet reached out a hoof to each of us. With glistening tears in her eyes, she said, “May she go on with grace. Are you interested in talking more about it?”
Starlight held the offered hoof for just a moment before brushing it away. “The only thing to say is that I want the war to end. If I could, I’d go back and stop it from ever starting.”
I stared hard at her eyes. “Starlight.” She merely met mine and sighed.
“I know. Look, thank you for the meal, but I think I’ll go. You two are old friends and all, so enjoy your time together. I’ll go look for some souvenirs.” Starlight quickly waved and trotted away, not allowing any protest.
After watching her go, Meadow said, “She seems nice enough.”
“Starlight is one of the smartest unicorns I’ve ever met. Better than anypony I know at mixing spells together.”
Meadow’s shoulder bumped mine. “That doesn’t say anything about her personality. Is she a nice pony?”
I sighed. “I don’t think any of us can be called a ‘nice pony’ anymore. Even after ten years, Starlight doesn’t have any sense of moderation. It’s always all or nothing. Great for a soldier, but not quite for a civilian.”
Those words were sour. Was I any different anymore?
“At least you know she’ll stop at nothing to save Equestria. Are all of the Battlemages that way?”
I looked at my friend. “Too much so, perhaps.”
My friend waved to the waiter, and we both ordered tea. From the way she looked at me, I knew she didn’t like that I hadn’t mentioned Nebula before. Meadowsweet was always there to talk, but that became less and less of what I wanted as the war went on. I had discussed the hardships I faced during the first couple years freely. After joining the Battlemages and changing the way I did war, I wanted to share with her less and less. Soon I never offered to talk. I enjoyed our time but wanted it separate from my time at war.
“How are you holding up, Meadowsweet? How do you handle the war?” It wasn’t that I never asked. It was that she always answered the same way.
“I see the hardships so many have faced and I think of ponies I know, ponies like you, who face them every day. I hope and pray they survive them, and that I can help them move on.”
I looked hard into my cup of tea. The contrast of the dark liquid and white ceramic struck me as similar to what my friend and I had become.
"What happened with Nebula?"
There was no stopping it. "She was killed. A sniper; we had shields up but the round bypassed them, and she died instantly." I sighed, as resigned against Meadow's questions as I was to the death of a soldier. "We leveled the area, but I don't think-"
"How do you feel?"
"I- Her death was like Big Macintosh all over again. A part of the world that seems powerful and unchanging just gone. She was always vibrant, ready with a word for any moment. It's just silence without her."
"But?"
"It's like I'm numb. I've seen so much death. Caused so much death. Just... numb." Only one feeling remained.
She reached out a hoof. "You need to get away from that life-"
"They took him from me." Venom not meant for my friend.
"Ruby, what will you do when the war is over? What if it ended today?"
I don't know. Nothing would fill that void. My eyes looked for anything to distract me, and they found an older mare with two foals; a colt and a filly. They ran circles around her, jumping and playing. The colt stumbled but the filly caught him, leaving the mare with a smile on her face.
"I don't have anything else."
"Ruby Moon," she raised my head with a hoof and place her forehead against mine, nestled against my horn. I looked away from her piercing eyes. "You have to move on."
My violet eyes snapped to hers. "I miss him," I whimpered.
"I know. Let's go say hello... and goodbye, okay?"
v^V^v
The cold rain droned a beat upon my umbrella. I considered letting the rain land upon my face, hiding the tears that always fell.
“Meadow?”
“Yes, Ruby?”
“What do you think he would have done?”
She did not say anything. I sniffled, holding my eyes on his grave marker. Water flowed along weathered imperfections in the stone, slipping between the letters before flowing into the grass.
I lifted my hoof to my chest, digging it into my coat. “I feel a demon deep inside me. Every time I try to let it go it simply hides.”
“In your soul, I see a rainbow. I can see it in your tears as they fall,” she said, raising a gentle hoof to rest on my shoulder.
“Since he left me on my own I feel like I’ve been in the dark.”
Her hoof reached around me, pulling me close and holding me tight. “Then you are a rainbow in the dark.”
The world around me trembled. I felt a shiver cross Meadow’s body. An ache pulled at my horn, and I knew that something had happened.
In the shadow of cloud and rain, a flicker of light shined and grew. It was an evil light, an unsettling ray that dried my eyes and stopped my heart.
Green.
I knew what that was. It was the end of our world. The end of the world my brother had been taken from. The end of the world that I used to enjoy with Meadowsweet and my friends and family. That was a Megaspell. A violent, explosive megaspell. That was our death.
"Ruby? Is that-"
"Yes."
She gasped. "Oh no. No no no no, please no..."
I turned to her as a fresh bout of tears came from her puffy eyes. I didn't want to lose her, too. But I didn't have to. The wail of sirens sounded in the distance. Thoughts of my responsibilities in the case of such an attack never had a chance against the love I had for my friend.
"Meadow, we have to go." I kept my voice level. I needed to be strong for her.
"Go where?" she choked out.
"To Stable 45. We can make it. Hollow Shades wouldn't be a target, there's nothing here, but that just means they won't hit here first. We have to hurry!"
We started with a quick teleport. I took us to the closest point I knew to the stable entrance and flicked her flank with my tail, dropping the umbrella as we started to run. The rain had stopped, but the clouds were thickening. The only light was green and with every surge, I knew so much of Equestria was gone. We ran and ran, seeing other ponies all around us, panicked like Meadow was. I had to keep her beside me, get us to the stable. Keep her alive.
A few panicked minutes of running later, there it was: the door to the stable. Between us and it was a fence, with dozens of ponies, ponies I knew, trying to get in. The rifle and pistols pointed at them by the Stable-Tec security ponies held them back far better than the fence did. There was a single pony at the closed gate, calling out the warnings.
"The only ponies getting in are ponies with a Stable 45 pass. Anypony else should seek shelter elsewhere. No exceptions."
I pushed my way to the gate, making sure that Meadow stayed with me.
"We have passes! Let us in." I presented my pass, but Meadow was fumbling for hers with her hooves. I used my magic to pull out her pass, and held them up. The pony looked for a moment, then quickly opened the gate.
"Hurry up, we don't have a lot of time."
We ran past him, the guards with the guns parting to let us pass. I heard the gate slam shut. The pony yelled for the crowd to stay back. We stepped into the large doorway into the stable, the gear-shaped hole into the earth. Meadowsweet paused.
"Ruby, what about them?" She looked at the growing mob outside the fence. They looked more desperate every second. The security ponies starting waving their guns, pointing at the whichever pony pushed the hardest. This wasn't going to end well.
"They should be trying to hide somewhere else. They should have bought a stable pass. We can't help that. We have to move on. We have to get inside. Meadowsweet." She looked at me, the pleading look of everything she cared about being ripped from her hooves. "We have to go."
A star lit up, much closer than the fading light of the Fillydelphia megaspell. This one would reach us. The door technician knew that, too, and I heard the massive door creak and groan as it began to roll into place.
"Meadow!" I took a couple steps inside, motioning for her to follow. She slowly followed me, too slowly. "We have to get inside."
The door slid closer, Meadow stepping inside to avoid the massive piece of steel. I almost let out my breath- gunshots. She bolted out, her tail flicking the edge of the door just before it screeched into place.
I lunged at the door, pounding my hoof against the metal. I tried to push it back open, but it wouldn't budge. I grabbed it with my magic, the entire steel gear encompassed in a maroon glow. I heard a shout, but I ignored it as I heaved. The Door wouldn't budge, but that didn't stop me from pushing harder and harder. I couldn't lose Meadowsweet, I couldn't go on alone. The door creaked, and I flared my magic, pushing as hard as I could, but hydraulics engaged and locked the door into place.
I dropped the door and set for a different method. The teleportation spell came quickly, second nature as it was, and I -
Rocked, I fell to the ground. A burst of light and sound lashed out from my horn; the spell had collapsed and backfired. I didn’t think past the steel grating for several long seconds. Blinking, I lifted my head to see the giant gear. The door between Meadowsweet and me.
I quickly stood, trying to grasp for my magic, but I couldn't see for a moment. Perhaps some enchantment on the stable walls or some unicorn had counterspelled my teleport; either way, I couldn't stand and stumbled into a blue pony who caught me with a hoof. As my vision focused, I saw that he wasn't blue; his uniform was. I stood on my own, but the look on his face wasn't concerned.
"Open the door. My friend is out there." I looked at him with all of my building rage. Despite me swaying a bit, he stepped back, looking at the ponies beside him for help.
"So are six of my security ponies, but I can't open the door for them, either." I looked to the voice, seeing an older mare in a blue suit, the number 45 emblazoned on the chest. "It is sealed. And no pony, war hero or not, is going to open it. You have lost, just as we all have lost. But we must trot on."
I stared at her. I seethed. I clenched my jaw. I stared. She was right. I couldn't open the door for Meadowsweet. I couldn’t teleport out, probably due to some ward installed into the stable. I would never see my friend again. She might as well be dead. Like Sparks.
All at once I was tired. Every part of me was... Everything I had known. Everypony I had cared about. I dropped my head and stared at the steel floor grate. Dirt from outside had been dragged in. It was likely the only dirt we would see for the rest of our lives.
"Jump Shot, take her to her room. She's the last one." It didn't sound like a request, not that it mattered. An orange tail flicked my face. I lifted my head enough to see the uniformed earth pony mare.
"I'm Jump Shot. Just follow me."
I did as she asked, idly looking at the blank walls. They were nothing like the burning cities outside, with the ministry posters turning to cinders like the people they couldn’t protect; I couldn’t protect. The Stable walls were bare metal, with only an industrial light crystal for decoration.
We walked for a short time, but it might have been forever. Meadowsweet was gone. My family was gone. Equestria was gone. All I had done and it was still gone.
"Here is your room. You've got it all to yourself. I'll come by to check on you, but if you need anything you can use the intercom."
I hardly gave her a nod before I stepped in and shut the door. The room was white and stale. Four beds were made neat and tidy with fresh blue sheets, the only color in the room. I felt step after step pull me toward the nearest one. Falling upon it, my exhaustion departed me, leaving nothing inside. I was empty.
Tugging with my magic, I pulled out the only thing of value I had. My Twilight Sparkle statuette was everything I wasn't. Vibrant. Happy. Good. I set her down and stared at her.
The real Twilight was almost certainly dead. Canterlot, the Princesses; our world was over. What was I supposed to do in this stable? Rebuild? I know what balefire is. There won't be any cleansing of that.
Survive?
I didn't want to. Why should I?
Twilight began to shake.
I rushed to my hooves and stumbled on a stiff leg. Before I could muse on how long I had laid there my hair stood on end. The statuette fell to the ground, pushed by a gust of wind.
The floor trembled. Magical lightning danced across my coat. All around me, unstable magic burst from nothing. Sparks of light shot throughout the room, igniting the bed, the desk, even the air itself in a roar of flame. A white light grew from me, growing so bright I had to shut my eyes. I had no idea what was going on. This was no magic I was familiar with!
In a final, blinding flash, everything was gone.
v^V^v
Umph! The cold floor did not greet me kindly, nor did the darkness of the room. I did not know where I had been taken or what had happened. This new silence offered no answers.
I remained for a time. The end of the war and Equestria left my mind blank at first. The signs had been everywhere, the end inevitable. Our efforts were not enough to overcome our failures. Dear Luna, sweet Celestia, I could not believe it was all over. All gone.
Meadowsweet was not lost to me. She declined to enter the stable but there was nothing that could keep me inside. My earlier effort was an emotional flailing. This time nothing would stop my determination. I hadn’t lost the war. I was still alive. Meadowsweet was alive. My family in Hollow Shades would be safe. Everything will be fine.
Putting my hooves under me, I peered around the room. I had been wrong. There was light, a dim light from out the door and down the hall. It was not enough to light this room, but I could see the doorway and made my way to it, my hoofsteps echoing so loudly. The hall was hardly any brighter, though now I could see that the floor was covered in debris. I could see now that the light was still around another corner, though it lit the room beyond enough for me to make out details. I was still in a stable. Perhaps the same stable I had entered, though I know not how it could have changed so.
I know not how the silhouette of a skeleton could be sitting at the end of the hall.
I was no stranger to death. It was a part of my daily life. This, however, was beyond what I was prepared to see. A stable was meant to be a place of safety in the darkest of times yet here, before me, was fear and death.
I backed into the room and lit my horn. It was hard, far more trying than such a small spell should have been. My horn ached with the effort, allowing a new discomfort to spread across me; I was drained. I could not use my magic to defend myself for some hours. If whatever had killed the ponies in this stable remained then I would have to fight it the earth pony way.
Ashes. Blackened steel. I swept the light all around me, searching for anything- I caught a glint of purple. Stepping forward and nudging the object, ashes fell away revealing my Twilight.
This was the same stable. Stable 45. I hadn’t left at all. What had happened to me? I reached out and fished Twilight out of ashes, revealing her gleaming form. Not even a shake was needed. With her in hoof, I was reassured. Even as I slipped her back into my coat, I knew that everything will be fine.
Stepping into the hall, I went away from the light first. The hall was sparsely littered with pipbucks and the bones that had carried them, the look of them suggesting they had died moving, as I was, to the end of the hall. Once close enough for my light to pierce the dark, I saw that the door, an automatic one that slid out from the wall, had been blocked open by a desk. That desk, the skeletons on it, and the walls around it had been peppered with bullets. Peering into the room beyond the bones, a restroom, there were only more bones. Before turning away, I saw a ten-millimeter pistol on the ground. It was old and empty so I left it behind.
Turning around and walking down the hall toward the light, it was clear what had happened here. Ponies barricaded themselves in the restroom and other ponies charged them until their ammo was spent. Why was the question that remained, though I was beginning to believe when was more important to me.
At the end of the walkway, I realized, or recalled, that I had stepped into the main hall of the barracks- rather, the dormitory. The silhouette I saw before belonged to an earth pony skeleton sitting in the center of the passage, leaning on a fire extinguisher held in his hooves. Odd.
The light was to my right, coming from a device on the forehoof of another skeleton. The mare had set her pipbuck light on before she died. Perhaps the power had failed before their deaths? No; if the power was out then the air would be stale, probably unbreathable. They had turned the lights off. I approached and looked at the screen, hoping to find answers.
A blinking symbol in the corner indicated that the user, Jump Shot, was dead. Other indications showed more specific medical needs, such as starvation and dehydration. Jump Shot had watched this marvel of arcaneo technology tell her she was starving. Flipping the selector switches until I found something useful, I discovered an audio log and a number of files. I looked at the audio log titled, ‘End of the Game’. I hit play.
The speakers popped and crackled to life, reminding me how utterly silent the stable had been.
“-finally recording. Good.” Jump Shot's voice was different than it had been. It was older. Weaker. “I hope somepony actually listens to this somed-” she broke into a coughing fit, but even those were raspy and shallow.
“Damn. Everything, from the damn stable to the goddess damned war. Stupid megaspells go off, and I’m stuck inside this damn stable. ‘Marvel of modern technology,’ they said. ‘Safest place in Equestria,’ they said. They didn’t mention the recycled rations, the endless maintenance, or the banging on the door. The first few days of banging I could understand, but every few weeks they would bang on the doors again.”
That meant ponies survived. Meadowsweet survived. I needed no further proof.
“Of course, it didn’t matter. Damn Stable-Tec lied. The damn stable had all kinds of problems. Little problems that you wouldn’t think would be an issue. Too much oxygen in the air. Barely enough water production for the ponies to drink. Heat emitting light fixtures.” A bang sounded off from the speaker.
“Shut up. We can’t open the door anyway.” She sighed, then the recording ended with another pop.
She was right. Those did not seem enough to kill everypony in this stable. What worried me more was how she ended. They couldn’t open the door? I couldn’t teleport past the door, either. I’d rather not remove the door the hard way, but I wasn’t even sure if I could.
Opening up the most recent file, I saw a list.
Stove #2-5, 7, 8: Fire Damage. Irreparable.
Light Talisman Fixtures #17, 23, 25-29, 31-45, 54, 57: Fire Damage. Irreparable.
Autodoc #2: Fire Damage. Irreparable.
Water Talisman #1: Fire Damage. Irreparable.
Food Recycler #1-4: Fire Damage. Irreparable.
I didn’t have to read anymore. There was no longer any concern for my immediate danger. I could put a fire- wait, I was out of magic. With my energy, even my simple light could only give me a few feet of vision. I stepped away from Jump Shot and the shining screen of the pipbuck, looking down the hall and sighed.
“Starving is a terrible way to go.” I did not want to go the same way. I trotted around the nameless skeleton and tried to remember the path I had been led mere minutes before. I could not remember, but I didn’t need to; at the first crossroad, there were signs on the wall, directing ponies to their destinations. While ‘Exit’ was not one of them, ‘Foyer’ was, so I took that path.
My only company was the clip-clop of my hooves and the clink of the deck plates. Unlike the dormitory, the foyer was absent of the stable inhabitants or even evidence of their fate. As I was unable to light the room completely, I had to carry out the tedious task of circling the large room, checking each entrance for signs. At one point I came close enough to the center of the foyer to realize it had an open center and at least one other floor above. This might take some time.
Bang
I had just reached the second floor of the foyer when the silence was shattered. It was distant but unmistakable. Dynamite. Following the sound, I found my goal. A sign read ‘Stable Door’.
Bang
Still muffled but clearly in the direction I was headed. I doubt this was the banging Jump Shot had referred to. Moments later I turned a corner into a familiar open room with large machinery holding the gear-shaped door that had separated me from Meadowsweet. I thought of destroying it, melting it-
BANG
The gear, the floor, and even my teeth shook. No small amount of explosives were being used on that door. While Stable-Tec claimed it could withstand a hit from a balefire bomb, I had no idea what the outside of this door had been put through, or who was behind it now. I considered going back to recover the ten mil I saw before, but I remembered they were empty. I could only hope that whoever opened this door was friendly.
BANG
Flames flashed from points around the door, shooting dust and detritus around the gear. With a great shudder and the screech of scraping metal, the gear fell outward. Swirling fog shuffled in while the dust shuffled out. I let the light of my horn blink out and waited.
“Finally,” a stallion’s voice said, “thought we’d never get that door off.”
A figure appeared in the fog, but I could only tell that it was equine and clothed.
The figure spoke, “Looks like we aren’t gonna get a greeting. How much more dynamite do we have?”
“Plenty,” another stallion said. “Anypony inside?”
“No. Looks dead. I don’t think we’ll be having any fun.”
Fun?
The figure stepped closer and details began to show through. It wasn’t clothes he wore, but armor. Metal and spiked, and though there was red on it, I did not think it was painted. A sledgehammer was on his back with saw blades welded to it, their edges red with dried blood and rust. Another pony stepped through the dust, some sort of rifle slung to his back and a bag of dynamite dangling from his mouth.
There wasn’t going to be any friendly exchange with these ponies. I needed to leave. Backing away, I had to be slow. There wasn’t much sound to mask my steps, but at least it was-
Light filled the passage, shining from the horn of a third pony. I set my hooves and glared. So much for avoiding confrontation.
“Lookie here,” the lead stallion said. “We got ourselves a stable dweller.”
The second tilted his head and slipped his bag around his neck. “She ain’t wearing their outfits. Maybe she ain’t one?”
The light bobbed, and the voice of a mare came from the unicorn. “Just because they live in a stable doesn’t mean they have to wear the uniform. Besides, a coat that nice? No way she came from the wasteland.”
Wasteland. That word rang through my head.
The lead stallion waved a hoof before resting it on the haft of his hammer. “None of that matters. Don’t change what we’re here-”
I’d had enough. “What is that, exactly? Your reason for breaking in?”
He laughed and tapped his hammer. “Lookie here. She’s got a pretty mouth on her. Why don’t you come here, missy.”
I gave him a smile. “Yes, why don’t I come and let some of my blood rust those blades a bit more.”
He took a step toward me. “Oh, I’ve got other plans for you. A nice, plump, fresh pony like yourself has quite the place in my little group.”
My smile twisted and there was venom in my voice. “Plump?”
Several more figures appeared in the doorway, drawing a glance from the leader. He looked back at me and shrugged. “Come quietly and we’ll be nice.”
I turned and dashed around the corner.
He called out to me. “We won’t be so nice, now.” He lowered his voice, but I could still hear him clearly, “Be careful. She might not be the only one. Try to take them alive this time.”
Hearing yells of excitement and a rush of hooves, I sprinted down the hall, quickly returning to the foyer. I hadn’t seen a sign for the armory, so I had to make due with exactly nothing. A glance at the hall behind me and I saw six ponies with various weapons closing in, among them two unicorns lighting the way.
I went right, slamming the open buttons on two doors as I passed before reaching the corner and opening the third door. I peeked out and watched the light flood more and more of the foyer until the group entered. They gave the room a quick glance but turned my way.
Slinking back in the room, I heard quiet talk of keeping eyes open while they yelled insults and offers of deals at me. At least I could still hear their hoof steps, slowly coming toward me.
The room I had picked was a mane salon. There was a bench, several seats for patrons, and all the supplies one would need to spruce up a pony’s mane. Best of all, the floor was solid concrete, allowing me to walk silently over to the nearest supply cabinet and peruse the goods. I only had to keep an eye on the sharp edge of light, growing closer by the second. I pulled out a power clipper and a can of hairspray.
While I removed the cord from the clipper with my hooves, I saw the light dim as though one of the unicorns had entered one of the other rooms. The cord popped off, slapping the ground. Immediately, I threw the clipper out the door, bouncing it off the wall and out of sight.
“Grenade!” I called, and I heard rapid steps and panicked dives. One pony ran through the door and I kicked his knee. He fell and slid into the room, but a unicorn came in behind him. Having seen the light, I had floated up the hairspray to eye level and gave him a full spray in the face.
He stopped full and screamed, dropping his spell and his gun, before he fell to the floor, wiping at his eyes. His gun did not clatter on the deck, as I caught the weapon and quickly turned it to point out the door.
It was some kind of ramshackle misfit made of pipes and welded or bolted metal. I fired it blindly out the door while I looked back at the first pony that had entered. He was trying to stand, but I had caved in his knee and he didn’t seem to realize that. I suspected that could I see his eyes, they would be the bloodshot eyes of a very high pony.
Before he had a chance to do anything, I turned my new weapon around and fired twice into his head. The first round actually bounced off his skull and sparked on the wall, but the second penetrated and splattered the same wall. While I’d liked to have taken a proper weapon, it was good to know my enemies were equipped with garbage.
Feeling the ache in my horn, I grit my teeth. Damn whatever had happened to me. I was lucky these weren’t professionals.
Gunfire showered through the doorway, the stutter of shots telling me none of them had automatics. Several of the rounds struck the unicorn, cutting his screams short. I was learning a lot about these ponies.
The incoming fire stopped, replaced by rapid hoofsteps and an unintelligible yell. I backed away from the door, holding the pipe gun ahead and the spray can at my side.
A bloody-faced mare barreled into the room with a pool cue in her mouth. I only got one shot snapped off before she knocked my gun away, and I managed a good look at the sharpened end of that cue when she tried to stab me with it.
I floated the can between us, spraying at her despite the distance. While she swatted at the annoyance, I lined the pipe gun up with the pony barging in behind her, firing three times before I heard the gun click. It was enough to drop him to the floor, but it was my gun that clattered with him, not his.
The bloody-faced mare stomped the can into the ground and look at me with curled lips and eyes wide not with shock, but madness. If I were a poor, defenseless stable pony I would have been afraid. Instead, I floated my new gun an inch away from her temple and fired. She crumpled to the ground in the flickering light.
Flickering? The steady glow of unicorn light was gone, snuffed out when I shot the last pony in the door, but a new light was out in the hall, this one made of actual flame. Stepping over the bodies, I peeked into the hall.
There was the dynamite pony, sitting back with a flare in one hoof and a lit stick of dynamite in the other. His satchel of explosives was still around his neck, frighteningly close to that flare. His smile was from ear to ear, and there was a hint of caution in his eyes as he tossed the stick at me.
I dropped the gun and dashed at him, flicking the stick into the room behind me, far into the corner. He reached for another stick, but I closed him too quick, and he fell back to get away from me. He wasn’t fast enough, though, and I snatched the flare away from his grip and shoulder checked his face. I heard his head smack against the deck. My momentum had carried me over him, and I looked below me to see his dazed expression staring back.
BOOM
The blast swept over us, but my hooves held true. Dust was kicked up throughout the entire room, with the only light being from the flare I held. I put it mere hairs away from his neck, and he whimpered.
"Please don't kill me!"
"Oh, of course you beg for your life." I glared at him, trying to decide what to do with him.
Until his eyes darted down, looking in front of me. My head snapped up to see a pair of blood-rusted saw blades above me.
I heard a snarl as the weapon started coming down. Quick as I could I jumped to my left. I stumbled on the edge of the deck, rocked up by the buckling force of his blow. Setting my hooves, I felt bounce beside me but I couldn’t spare a glance at anything but this pony.
He met my eyes with his own. “I don’t know what a damn mare like you is doing in another dead stable, but when I’m done with you you’ll wish you were just bones and dust!”
He wrenched his bloody weapons from the mangled deck, leaving behind the headless body of the dynamite pony. Ah, that was what bounced - jump! I tucked my legs in, feeling the whisk of air against my hooves. I dashed past him, but a wild buck slammed into my flank and I tumbled into the railing. I kicked off the rail just before his weapon came down again on the buckled deck.
This time it could not hold out, and the shattered metal collapsed to the floor below. My magic took hold of a stick before the body of the dynamite pony fell with it.
We stared from across the gap, the flare still bright. I let it out of my mouth, floating it above me.
He chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy making you scream.”
I measured where I needed to jump. “I’m going to enjoy never seeing you again.”
Floating the stick up to the flare, I lit the fuse on the dynamite.
I then lowered both quickly to the floor below, shoving the flare into the neck of the body and stuffing the lit stick into the bag of dynamite.
In the new darkness, I jumped across the gap, landing on the deck of the hall. Ignoring the clamor, the oof, and the yell from behind me, I sprinted away. Down the hall, moments passed and I turned the corner, the remains of that damn door laying in the settled dust.
A boom, a roar; the stable rocked around me. The deck knocked my hooves from under me, and I tumbled in a heap. The only sound was a low wail, and all sight was a mud red haze. Pulling myself up, I knew only that a warmth teased from the red haze behind me, while a cool wisp from the grey haze ahead. I walked slowly, each step a cautious one.
I would get out of this stable.
The deck ended and that damn door began. At least it was a sign that I was closer. A few more steps and the wail began to fade. Another, and I stepped into the threshold of the stable doorway. My hooves went faster, the haze swirling around me as I pushed through until the haze ended and I stopped.
The overcast sky set a mellow and sad tone that befitted the world before me. Hollow Shades was filled with a thick low fog, and many of the smaller buildings were obscured. I could see the power plant had gained an eerie, light blue glow, and the Ministry of Image stood out as the only building not suffering from age. Enough rain filled the valley that I couldn’t see the mountains to the north or west.
There were no signs of life beyond the campfire a dozen steps ahead of me. I could not see my manor from here, but I suspected it would be the same. I wondered, for a moment, what hid in the fog. Perhaps it was more of these murderous ponies. Perhaps it was a horde of manticores who enjoy fine wine and pony flesh. Perhaps it was Meadowsweet.
A part of me hoped to find her, but nothing I had seen so far suggested that was likely, or that it would be a happy thing. The best I could hope for was that she had died long ago and surrounded by friends.
For me, I knew nothing of what I was about to face. I hoped that I had seen the very worst of ponies, and that everything would be brighter from here on out. Hope was always a fleeting thing, though, and I expected that everything I had done in my life might not be enough to prepare me for what horror Celestia’s Equestria had become.
Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Chapter 3: Treasure and Trashbin
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.
Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Fallout: Equestria
Echoes
Chapter 4: Monsters
<==M M==>
A rainbow maned pegasus pulled off her Shadowbolt beret and threw it onto the empty table in the waiting room. "Glad to be outta that mess." She was in full dress uniform, as I was, but was far more uncomfortable in the prim and proper garb.
"Eeyup." A large earth pony stallion stood impassively by the door. He was handsome, but clearly a farm pony by the indents around his shoulders from wearing a draft collar and his similar discomfort in the dress uniform. He glanced at me before Rainbow Dash spoke again.
"Been a while, Big Mac. How's the army treatin' ya?" While they talked, I walked up to the table and gently floated my own beret next to Rainbow Dash's. They were both black and had different skull based insignia, but the Shadowbolt cover had gold trim while the Battlemage had purple.
"Well enough. Just doin' my part. You?" Big Macintosh’s uniform and mine were a similar mix of khaki and dark green, but Rainbow Dash’s had much more flair in purple and gold.
"I still can't get many pegasus to do the same. If they would just join up in force, we could smash those zebra all the way back to Roam."
After a moment of silence, I turned to find them both looking at me. Rainbow Dash talked first.
"So, you're Ruby Moon, right? Are the unicorns going to step it up like the earth ponies did?" I couldn't help but feel misrepresented here.
"I wouldn't know. I don't exactly stand out like you two do." It may have seemed humble, but it was true. Between the two unicorn ministry mares, there wasn't much of a way for another to get much media spotlight. Not that I wanted it at all.
"Then why are you here?" I wasn't sure if she was trying to insult me or not. By her expectant expression, the intent was an actual question. This mare was rude.
"I was the first unicorn selected to become a battlemage, so I was selected to be the face of the unit." Rainbow Dash got a thoughtful look on her face. It was a little confusing.
"Why isn't your unit more publicized? I know Rarity has done a lot to get the Shadowbolts well known, and the Macintosh’s Marauders are basically heroes of Equestria, but I’ve never heard anything in the media about battlemages. Are you guys a secret or something?"
I looked at them both. The best of their ponykind, right here in front of me. I feel small, even with Big Macintosh's kind look and RD's subtle respect.
"The Ministry of Image and Rarity are excellent at what they do. By showing the Shadowbolts to the public, they inspire every pegasus into being a master of the sky. They play on the pride that if a pegasus joins the military, they will become awesome like you."
She practically whinnied. "That's what Rarity said when she convinced me to let her go public with them. I didn't want to with all the commando stuff we do, but it tripled pegasus recruitment rates. She was right."
I looked at the big stallion, head and shoulders above the two of us. "Big Macintosh is a symbol of earth pony potential. By publicizing his rather astounding successes and deservedly praising him for it, Rarity makes every earth pony believe they can become a hero."
"Ah... thanks?" He shyly nodded his head and scratched the back of his hoof.
Rainbow looked at Big Macintosh for a second before giving me a sideways look. "But why not the battlemages? Why not you?"
"Unicorns aren't made of equal potential. To be quite frank, there is a wide margin between a unicorn such as I and even a respectable unicorn such as Rarity. Don't mistake this for arrogance. It is simply fact that not every unicorn has the potential to become a combat magician. Not half, not even a quarter of all the unicorns in Equestria have the talent to even enter the academy. Of those few, only a fraction are truly talented in magic. Only that fraction can actually become a Battlemage."
Rainbow scoffed. "So there isn't any point in getting their hopes up?"
Nodding, I said, "Exactly. Besides, there is plenty that a unicorn could do without turning their magic into a killing tool."
"What's wrong with that? What makes killing some zebra with magic different than with a gun"
"Firstly, there is a stigma about using magic to kill. We aren’t predators. We didn’t develop our magic to wage war. We use it to sing our soul into our art." I looked down at my hooves. I couldn't look them in the eye. “By killing with magic, we become artists of death.”
Big Macintosh’s face was neutral, but Rainbow Dash was shaking her head. “I don't get it.”
The earth pony spoke before I could. “Killing with the magic that makes you a pony is poison for the soul.”
That was exactly what I would expect a farmer to say. “Well said, Big Macintosh.”
Rainbow Dash shrugged, but something in her look made me think she was beginning to understand. “If that’s the first thing, what is the second thing?”
“It’s just so easy .”
The silence made me shiver. For a moment, the kindness and respect was replaced by shock and revulsion.
“So many spells can end life. Simple spells can kill a single zebra and powerful spells can kill many. Before that battle, two days ago, the first battle of my new squad, I was counting how many zebra I had killed. It was twelve.”
Cyan feathers waved at me. “Why count? That’s creepy.”
“I had my reasons, but I don’t count anymore. Two days ago I lost count around three hundred.”
Rainbow mouthed the number. Big Mac just gave me a hard look. I sighed. "I'm a murderer."
"Wait just a second,” Rainbow Dash shouted. “Just because you've killed a lot of zebra doesn't mean you're a murderer. We're defending Equestria. Protecting ponies."
"You are defending Equestria. Both of you. Me... I am killing zebra." Rainbow shook her head and looked to Big Mac for help.
"Way I see it, we all have killed a lot of zebra, which is bad, but we did it for a good reason. We don't want another Littlehorn-" I spun around, hooked a hoof onto a chair and tossed it above the table. My horn flashed and a green bolt flew from my horn to the chair, turning it bright green before the object melted into ashes.
"I want to kill zebra. Defend Equestria? Sure. Protect ponies? When possible. What I do, every day they let me, is kill zebra. That's why Rarity won't touch the Battlemages. She thinks we are monsters." I floated my beret off of the table, shook the ashes off, and place it on my head, the unicorn skull badge clear for them to see. "She's right."
v^V^v
The overcast sky above lacked any remorse. Rain encouraged me to walk quickly but the fading light reminding me that I hadn’t slept since being frozen, and that hadn’t really been sleep at all. I had little to push me in this new world. Forging my way through the terrible weather to recollect my possessions and get money, caps, to start a new life. Trashbin had enlightened me to a few things regarding my possible future. What was I to do? A mercenary for hire? Warlord of Trottingham? Queer old hermit on the hill, scaring off trespassers with fireballs? Maybe I would find Onyx, make amends, and figure out what he has been doing for a dozen and a half decades.
The land was desolate. I encountered little in my trek to the Colliery, and though easy to dispose of the roaches were horrible reminders of the effect radiation had on some creatures. It was only just after killing the creatures that I realized I was being followed. A sprite bot like what Trashbin had told me about was watching from just beyond the hill. If Trashbin had said nothing of it, I would have attacked, believing an enemy was tracking me. Instead, I called out to it.
“A friendly pony told me to keep an eye out for bots like that one.” Standing in the open, shield spell at the ready, I wondered how far I would go trusting strangers like this.
The bot floated sheepishly out from behind the brush. Like Trashbin said, no songs from my time were playing from those old speakers. Only, after a time, a tinny mechanical voice emitted instead.
“I suppose that means you’re a friendly pony?”
Compared to everypony I had met, I’d suspect I was the element of kindness. “I’d like to think so. My name is Ruby Moon.”
“Just like a ghost. You can call me Watcher. How- I mean, well, what’s your story?”
A ghost? This pony, or person at this point, might recognize me. “When the megaspells fell, I entered Stable 45. There, I was frozen until yesterday, which is when I discovered everything has changed.”
“So you are Ruby Moon. That Ruby Moon.”
“Are you still just Watcher to me? Or are you going to tell me your real name?”
There was a longer pause than I liked. “I can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just can’t risk it.”
Nothing spurs curiosity like mysterious denial. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in any position to press the matter. “What do you have to say, then? I’ve got business to attend to that may allow me to sleep in a bed sometime this week.”
Another pause. I’ll give him the time he needs, but I wasn’t kidding about sleep. I was going to need it after this adventure. “I’ve got a favor to ask. I don’t have anything to offer, but visit Pony Joe's, just south of here.”
“A donut shop? Don’t tell me that’s your house now.”
The sprite bot shook in the air, an amusing lifelike denial. “No, not a chance. Just take a look, all right?”
I shrugged. “Sure, I will.” I waved and turned to walk away when it spoke up again.
“It’s south of here. That’s north.”
“I know, Watcher, but I’ve already got business. Unless you want to tell me more then I’m going to finish my business first.”
Another pregnant pause, ended not by his voice but a static burst from the speakers ushering in a 170 year old motivational song. I wrinkled my face at the bot before turning back to the north. I didn’t like Watcher’s way of ending conversations.
v^V^v
Standing on the rooftop of a maintenance shed, I stared into the heart of the Clopstone Colliery. It was a large pony made pit roughly three hundred yards at the widest, and almost an oval shape. I was at the southern end, where the facilities to support the Colliery still stood. I couldn't tell how deep the pit was, as water filled the basin to just below the complex.
Hydra were large, dragon-like creatures that normally had three heads and had a ridiculous healing rate. The wasteland, I suspected, did not change those basic facts. Knowing that, I had seen a hydra before the end and it was nothing like the monster that was wandering toward the Colliery. That hydra was entering the pit now, sliding down clear troughs where it frequented.
Diverse coloration was a trait of most dragon like species, but the wildly striped creature before me was especially dizzying. The shine of its scales and their reflection in the water created a kaleidoscope everytime it moved, and I was worried those scales had hardened into magical armor. Each head seemed to have grown far too many teeth, and large fins trailed down each neck, a trait that didn’t belong to the creatures I was familiar with.
Two of the heads went down in the water, doing something I didn't guess. The third was keeping an eye out, and it swept it's gaze across the horizon, spending little time looking at the building I was on. I was basking in the fault of my overconfidence now, no longer certain I could kill the beast. If radiation had increased its healing, gave it magical protection, or mutated its body in ways I couldn’t see then I might fail to kill it.
My hair stood up as the watchful head stared at me- no, below me. I was on the closest building to the pit but I couldn’t see down this edge, where the beast was staring. Whatever it had seen was enough to stop whatever it had been doing. Both heads slowly rose from the water, a glistening rainbow amidst the spectrum of scales. If it weren’t for the misshapen teeth, it might have been beautiful.
I flashed my horn, my surroundings changing to the western ridge of the pit. Clearly downwind of the beast, I was overwhelmed by the smell of fresh fish and rotten eggs. I blocked my nose with a hoof full of my coat and tried to focus on what the hydra had seen.
The southern edge had a road that zigzagged down the cliff with a door maybe a dozen feet above the waterline. In front of this door was a pony wearing black armor. This might be the pony Trashbin had mentioned, but I would have to act fast to prevent my armor from ending up inside that beasts stomach.
I stirred up a lightning spell and zapped the bolt from my horn to the watchful head.
The beast shook, complete surprise causing the shimmering scales to shake the seas of the small lake. The lower heads darted above the water, curving around to face me instead of the mysterious pony in black. I cast another simple spell and a trio of red bolts launched high above me before two darted into the water ahead of the heads, the last burning the nose of the watchful head.
A flash of steam preceded a deluge of water, and two huge open maws lunged at me. I blinked to the other side of the pit, watching the two heads collide where I had been, their rampant teeth ravaging each other. The third head seemed the smartest, as it started searching the area for me while the two bickered over bumping together. While I readied another spell, the watchful head spotted the pony in black, the whole of the hydra moving toward it. My fire bolts unleashed on his head, coming straight from my position. That head turned to me, but the pair were snaking along undistracted, so I teleported behind the pony and started to ready more spells.
Her voice was soft and sweet, which stood out like a clean spot in this wasteland. "-it, damn it, stupid lock, I don't have- whoa, who are you?!"
A half second passed while I finished my spells before I said, "A unicorn who wants what belongs to her."
I let two fire bolts zip from my horn. They flew straight at the heads but dived down into the water, creating a spout between the hydra and us. I unleash a fireball, the burning energy arcing at the walls of water. Two heads burst through the collapsing wall to meet a fiery explosion and cringe, falling back into the water hoping to soothe their burns. The third descends upon us from above and takes in a breath. I activate my shield, encompassing myself and the pony, and the flames of hydra breath engulf us.
The heat is immediately too intense for my taste and two more fire bolts fly out from me, out to either side before arcing around to hit the water just before me, creating a watery shield in the way of the hydra. Much of the water is flashed to steam as the hydra continues its attack, perhaps not realizing what I had done.
From my left a head appears, maw wide. I send a firebolt inside and the head jerks back, the tongue melted. A head on the right smashes into the wall and grinds at us, sending rocks tumbling our way. I feel the strain like a hammer to my horn as they bounce off the shield, but I send a lightning bolt at the base of its neck, burning a hole through to the spine and causing the head to shrivel back.
My eyes narrow as I realize the wounds I've inflicted are healing before my eyes. Exactly what I had feared had turned out to be the case. I'd have to end this in a single blow.
The three heads rose above me, taking in deep breaths. I let fly firebolts, pounding into their necks, and the burning bloody chunks sizzled when they splashed into the water. Dropping my shield and shifting my remaining energy, I put extra force into my next spell. The condensed energy beam shot just above the water, cutting into the breast of the hydra. Meat and bone melted away as I frantically shifted the beam, searching for the heart. I pulled for more magic, but I was starting to run dry just as my vision was beginning to fade, but then a red mist burst from the gaping cuts, matched by the entire hydra slumping and collapsing.
I dropped the spell and let out a baited breath. My reward was the return of clear vision but now I took a panicked breath. The damn creature was falling toward us. Glancing behind me, I saw the pony peeking out from the opened door, her eyes and mouth wide with shock.
"Get inside!" Her gaze snapped to me, not realizing what I had said, but I rushed into the door, pulling her along. The room was dark, so I lit my horn, filling the room with red light, and saw what looked like a storage shed, filled with shovels and wheelbarrows, all of it shaking as what was probably a hydra head smashed into the complex. The supporting structure of the ceiling shook loose and started to collapse around us.
I pushed the mare further from the door as said door was crushed under rock and hydra. "We need to go deeper, find a door," turning and running further while I shouted over the din.
"There, follow me," she ran to the back of the room where a set of double doors stood. I didn't want to risk any delay from them being locked and shot a firebolt at the handle, the metal liquefying instantly. The mare got the message and barreled into the door, knocking it from its hinges and into the winding tunnel beyond. We cantered on through, earth shaking less beneath our hooves as we distanced ourselves from the storage shed. Reaching another double door, the mare turned the handle and we walked in and shut the doors behind us.
We were in an intersection of passageways, with dirt floors but fully fabricated walls and ceiling. There were lights lining the halls, but none were lit, and the light from my horn did not reach more than a few dozen feet down each hall. The only sounds were distant rumbles and our breathing. Mine was quickly recovering, but hers was barely labored. She was a fit one.
I confirmed now that she was wearing my combat barding, and I would need to negotiate with this mare. "Now that we have survived near death together, I believe introductions are in order. I am Ruby Moon, and it a pleasure to meet you." I smiled at her, but she stared back, uncertain.
"Proctor Cashew." Her rigid tone made my smiled slightly drop. "I'm thankful for your assistance. Why did you help me, Ruby Moon?" She started trotting down the left hall. I followed.
"Please, just Ruby. I saw you were in need and I provided my assistance. I was in the area to deal with the hydra, so it was impeccable timing that allowed me to save you."
"Maybe." She stopped at a door a pushed it open, looking inside. Unsatisfied with a locker room, she moved on, as did I. "Or your attack caused the hydra to notice and care that I was there at all." I drew back at her accusation. That certainly wasn’t true, but it struck me that she wasn't very thankful for my actions.
"Setting the matter aside, what brings you to this mine? Risking a hydra's wrath must have an impressive reward." I was actually curious about that. If she was a Steel Ranger, she was probably here for tech, but was there really any sort of tech here that they would want?
The hall ended in a larger room filled with tables and benches lined up from wall to wall with a gap centerline of the room leading to a windowed wall on the far side. The floor was tiled with a linoleum finish that still seemed intact from lack of use. This was a cafeteria.
"That's not your business, outsider. I would advise we separate the moment we leave this facility."
I stopped at what she said. "Oh, now you're asking for my help? You could start by saying the words. Otherwise I might just leave you here to rot with the bones." That made her glance around and notice the dozen pony skeletons scatter throughout the cafeteria.
"How would you do that? Teleport?" Her voice starting sounding a bit shaky.
I smirked. "Of course. But I used a lot of energy fighting that monster. I can't just spare the energy to take you with me." Her eyes spread into saucers.
"Is there something you want?" She was near panic now.
"I want you to relax and be friendly. You do have something I want, but I'm not unwilling to help you first. Since we are on the subject of terms, I want my combat barding."
She looked down at the barding she wore, focusing on the emblem of a unicorn skull with crossed lightning bolts behind it and six six-pointed stars arranged around it. One star was gray while the others were purple.
"But I bought this fair and square. It's mine now."
I shook my head at the wasteland. "Somepony takes a bunch of things from my room and everypony says they bought it fair and square. Look, I'm a pony from before the apocalypse who went to a stable that put me in a stasis pod that woke me up yesterday. I left that barding in my bedroom and some scavenger took it and now you have it. What can I do to get it back?"
She slowly looked me over. "That's a crazy story."
I walked further into the cafeteria, wondering if they had any high preservative foods. "You're a Steel Ranger, right? You ponies are obsessed with the past? Ask me something only a Steel Ranger or a pony in my position would know."
She glanced back at the barding while following me. "What unit insignia is this?"
"Equestrian Guard, First Division, Special Company, Battlemage Unit." Like reciting a mantra. I reached the windows and glanced inside. Cooking facilities to make an army cook proud. Translation: Shelves of boxes of Dandy Colt Apples, Fancy Buck Cakes, and several other foods that could survive a megaspell war. I floated two boxes of the apples out, offering one to Cashew.
She had been staring at me. I'd guess she didn't know that. After seeing the apples she sat at the nearest bench and opened the box. "Who founded the Steel Rangers?" She started munching while I answered.
"Founded?" Not quite how I would phrase their creation. "Applejack initiated the program to better protect our earth pony soldiers in battle." I popped an apple into my mouth, not quite savoring the wasteland flavor.
She was starting to look flustered now. "Who were the alicorn princesses?"
"Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Cadence and Princess Flurry Heart." Is that really not known? Now that I thought about it, the war and the Crystal City's stance on it did drive them apart. Judging by the lack of crystal ponies or knowledge of those two princesses, I would guess that distance did not save them from the apocalypse. "Look, I understand that you acquired my barding with hard earned money. I'm not asking you to just give it to me. I'll do you a favor and in return you give me my barding."
"Okay, but... you're really from before the war? Not like you've lived since then but it was like yesterday?" Her nervousness was transforming to excitement before my eyes.
"Yes. I'd like to not talk about it right now." I was trying to avoid it at all costs, really. I ate another apple to distract me.
She was practically giddy now. "I just have so many questions. They will be so excited to hear about you, this is a much greater discovery than anything I could have found in this place."
"Wait, what are you talking about?" I didn't like the sound of being treated like a relic.
Faint music interrupted her response. Like some kind of ghostly radio, Sweetie Belle's sweet voice was slowly approaching us from where we had came. I killed the light from my horn and moved up to behind Cashew. I whispered, "Something's here."
CLICK CLICK. I really didn't like that sound. Not the soft click of Jump Shot's pipbuck radcounter, but a hard click of something hitting the tiled floor. Cashew heard it too, and we both hid behind what cover the tables offered. CLICK. It didn't sound like metal on tile. The sound reminded me of was a bug, but that was a terrifying thought. I decided that any creature that frequents down here would probably be adjusted to see in the dark so I lit my horn with a light spell, this time adjusted to be bright white.
"Radscorpion!" Cashew yelled, identifying the huge insectoid monstrosity before us. Without her I probably would've called it a hideous mutation and to be killed with fire, but with that name I did realize the six legs, perhaps twelve feet from tip to tip, and the two pincers, not quite symmetrical but nearly as large as a pony each, and the tail, arcing over the body with a bulbous end housing a stinger that would surely kill me by impalement long before poison would inhibit me, did make the creature resemble in some horrifying, science experiment kind of way, an emperor scorpion.
The monstrosity shielded its eyes with its claws, proving my hunch, and that gave me time to consider my options. I was low on magic. The assault on my shield along with the extended mazer beam had taken more energy than I should have spent. I had no idea what kind of attacks this radscorpion could handle. Was it's carapace immune to fire? Reflect energy spells? It certainly looked bullet resistant, so my puny pipe submachine gun wasn't going to be much help in actually killing it.
My thought were interrupted by Cashew calling out, "This way," as she ran passed me toward the kitchen. The radscorpion no longer shielded it's eyes and started walking at me and another radscorpion entering the cafeteria. The second one had, for whatever strange reason, a radio on it's back. That was where the song was coming from.
I turned and ran, following Cashew through double dumbwaiter doors in the corner. Cashew was already pushing a large heavy stove, her earth pony strength apparent in that she was actually making progress. I helped by levitating it just enough to be as light as a table, and Cashew quickly pushed it in the way of the door. I also toned down my light to a moderate white. We admired our work for a moment, wondering about two unusual things that I had just noticed. The radscorpions weren't yet attacking us, and the music had just stopped.
A sharp edged claw burst through the serving window, tearing some of the wall apart with it. The claw snapped twice before receding, but what looked like the other claw quickly took its place.
I spared a look at Cashew. She was frightened, but still with me. I guess a proctor had combat training on wasteland monsters? I said quickly, "There going to get through, we have to find another way out."
She looked at me, or rather, my horn. "You just killed a hydra, why can't you kill a radscorpion with your magic?"
"I'm not a wellspring of energy, that hydra took a lot out of me. I would teleport us both out of here, but if I've misjudged the energy I have or there is any kind of interference I could just burn out and then we'd be completely bucked. Now, unless you have a bigger weapon than a ten mil, we need another exit."
She ran to the back of the kitchen, and I faced the slowly shredding wall. I grabbed every metal object larger than a breadbox and pushed it against the wall. The two pairs of claws, one at what was the serving windows and the other tearing apart the stove, were hardly slowed by my efforts. I glanced at my gun. Even it I could hurt them with it, I only had two drums. Maybe 150 rounds?
Cashew swore, drawing my attention. She was running out of a backroom in the opposite corner of the door being torn open, and snapping at her tail was a dirty white radscorpion. I pulled over a shelf of Fancy Buck Cakes when Cashew passed it, running straight away at an empty spot of the wall between the kitchen and the cafeteria. The albino radscorpion smashed apart the shelf, boxes of snack flying to all corners of the room, continuing its charge at Cashew. The legs of the creature fell upon the snacks and it lost just enough control to smash into Cashew and the wall behind her. The fragile wall fell before it like shredded paper and Cashew and the albino tumbled into the room.
I rushed after, taking note that both other radscorpions were too deep into the walls to realize their prey was now beside them. Climbing onto the albino's back, I saw Cashew shaking herself awake between the slowly swinging claws of the albino.
"GET UP AND RUN!" I floated the nearest table into the air and ran down the albino to Cashew, helping her up and pulling her into a canter. The first snap of the albino missed my head by inches, yanking a clump of my curly mane out, causing me to let out a yelp and drop the table early. It clipped Cashew in the flank, but landed in the second albino claw, which crushed the table in two. While I helped Cashew limp out of the room, I floated every loose table and chair into the doorway, hoping the makeshift barricade would hold long enough for us to get away.
Cashew wincing at every step was increasingly audible over the radscorpions tearing apart the makeshift barricade. I gathered as much energy as I thought safe before stopping Cashew and putting my horn to her tender flank. The healing spell did it's work, sealing the gash and hopefully repairing any bone damage in the proper manner. She gave it one test stretch before breathing out a thank you as we cantered off.
"Do you know anything about this facility's layout?" I asked when we stopped at a four way intersection. Despite the good sprint, neither of us were really out of breath, yet. Unfortunately, we couldn't see or hear the radscorpions, so we didn't know how much danger we were still in.
"Not at all. There aren't any structures topside that have any sort of stairs or elevator going down. That's why I wanted in here. It made no sense, and that meant there was some sort of secret. You were alive when this place was active, do you know anything about it?"
I shook my head. "I've never been here, and it never concerned me. I only know of it because I lived in Hollow Shades when I was younger."
She seemed unnerved by that. "Do you know what happened?"
What? I shrugged. She shuddered, then stiffened before wildly looking down every hall.
"This way!" She ran down the safe hall and I stayed on her tail. I heard the snapping of claws and risked a glance behind. I could see the white of the albino behind a black form, one of the others in front of it. They were slightly cramped in the hall, and so we were slightly faster at a sprint. Looking forward, I could see an wide doorway, not five seconds away.
Cashew stopped hard, but I bowled over her right into a cloud of dirt as the black carapace of a radscorpion rose into our path. I raise my light to maximum brightness and focused it onto the creature, causing one claw to shield what must be its eyes. The other claw blindly snapped at where I was; I jumped, my left forehoof stepping onto the claw. Just as the tail stinger thrust toward me I twisted my body and pushed off the claw. The stinger missed but the bulbous end of the tail pushed into me. I latched on and when the tail retracted I was tossed onto the ground behind the radscorpion. Dropping the light to a comfortable level, I looked to see Cashew running over the creature's back.
I scrambled up and through the door. The security checkpoint was quite unexpected, but the solid concrete floor and big red button labelled 'Emergency Shut' were both reassuring. Cashew rushed in through the doorway and rolled to her left. A black claw reached in after her, snapping at where she had been. I slammed the button with my hoof. A steel door with reinforcing rods dropped from the ceiling, smashing the claw to the floor. I heard what must have been radscorpion screams as the door quickly crushed off the claw, letting greenish ichor pool onto the floor.
I dropped my light spell since pressing the button brought the facility to life. White lights lit the room clearly, while a few red lights gave it a ominous tone. The room we were in was clearly a secure entry point, but also had a small forklift driven into a port in the side. Next to the port was a dead light and a viewing window that appeared to be stained with blood. On the console with the door button were dead video screens and the knobs to control them. Opposite the forklift was a door.
This was no plain colliery. "Well, you were right. Secret. I didn't know this kind of facility was here." Cashew nodded as she walked to the door and tried the handle. It opened, surprisingly. The next room was a hall lined with several bunkrooms and another door at the end. After checking each door for traps, we searched the rooms. They were full of things neither of us found useful, with the exception of a box of 10mm rounds that Cashew pocketed into the saddlepack of my barding.
"Returning to our previous conversation, what do I have to do to get my barding back?" She looked down at herself again and sighed.
"I guess I'll return it if you help me return to Stable 26. Oh, or if we find something I like better." She moved on to the next door, opening it and walking into the next room.
Stable 26? Was that the headquarters for the Steel Rangers? Considering her rudeness earlier, I waited before pressing the matter. Following her, we found what looked to be the security checkpoint. We walked around the metal detectors, though Cashew seemed excited to know they were in good condition.
I did press the matter of my stuff. "Any full combat barding should be good enough, right?" We came to our first choice of doors; 'Armory' or 'Operations'. Cashew was too distracted by my comment to be excited about the armory, I guessed.
"Is that all this is? A unicorn unit like the Battlemages doesn't have enchanted barding?" She absently chose the armory door and, finding it locked, starting the process of picking it.
"That combat barding is what we wore early war. As technology developed, such as the Steel Ranger armor, the M.W.T. also developed a suit of light barding for use by recon units. We modified that barding for our use."
Cashew dropped the screwdriver from her mouth and said, "Got it." She put away her tools and opened the door. "Score." That was a correct statement.
Since the area we've seen of the facility were devoid of skeletons, I came to the conclusion the facility was successfully evacuated. This room indicated that they were in such a hurry they left any equipment not already checked out. The armory had a fence halfway into the room, with a gate and a small access door for handing weapons out. This side of the fence was empty, but the other side had a pair of full weapon racks and shelves with barding. Hopefully some full combat barding, but chances were slim.
Cashew heading to the gate, her tools still out. "Why light barding instead of power armor or something else?" Then the screwdriver went in her mouth.
"Weight has a significant impact on teleportation limits. Since that was our primary travel method, we didn't want to add anything that would add strain to our energy reserves." Seeing that she was still working the lock, I kept on going. "Teleporting a pony in power armor is like teleporting two and a half ponies. Typically, Flashpoint would teleport the squad of six battlemages onto the battlefield from behind the lines. If we were all wearing power armor, the strain would feel like 20 or 30 ponies. While Flashpoint had a talent for teleportation, he wasn't a miracle worker."
"Sweet." Cashew put the tools away; the weapon racks weren't locked in any way. We both inspected the treasure, and it was one that I could respect. Four IF-21 Caramel automatic 10mm pistols and two IF-80 Stampede semi-auto 12Ga shotguns; wait, these Caramels only had semi-auto function. That was still more exciting than the barding; only a light security barding, meant for protecting against melee strikes and stabs rather than bullets. I held one out to Cashew, but fully expected the shake of her head. Since I was still unarmored at this point, I removed my coat and put one on. I removed the holsters built into the other three suits and strapped one to myself, giving the other two to Cashew and filling them with the pistols. We both ready slinged the shotguns, with my submachine gun moved to stowed over my back. Into the few pockets our bardings had we stuffed all of the ammunition, which for me was 120 10mm in ten magazines and 40 12Ga.
I put the coat back on over the barding. Didn’t want everypony to identify me as ‘Security.’
Feeling a much greater degree of safety, we entered the unlocked operations room. The first thing to catch my eye was a symbol of four stars on the wall to my left, above a desk with a skeleton sitting behind it. The rest of the room was empty of remains, but full of paperwork. Sections of desks were spread throughout the room, each with a sign that signified which city they were in charge of, I presumed. The Hoofington section was nearly as large as two others, and located next to the desk under the logo, with the Canterlot section next to it.
Cashew let out a yip. "Four Stars Transportation? We've never been able to access any of their facilities before. They are nearly as secure as Stables. Oh, you're from the past, right? What was Four Stars all about? Why the ridiculous security?"
"Sorry, I've heard of them, but never any details. I certainly don't know why they would have a secret headquarters." I was curious about all this secrecy. Not that wartime Equestria wasn't full of secrets, and I had been part of my fair share of them. I trotted up to the desk under the icon. Seeing the skeleton up close, I frowned.
Cashew noticed my look. "What's wrong?" She looked at the body. "She looks like she killed herself. Everypony else got out. I wonder why she stayed."
"She's a zebra," I said simply. There was a gun on the desk, next to where her hoof rested. By her other hoof was a memory orb. Twisting my levitation magic to not activate the orb, I picked it up and inspected it closely. I was very curious what was on it.
Cashew frowned as well, and studied the remains more closely. "How would a zebra be in charge of such a prominent pony organization during the war?"
There was also a terminal on her desk. Cashew booted it up. A security screen appeared and she began typing. Text rolled across the screen as she attempted to hack the terminal. I pocketed the orb and watched.
"That's what's wrong. Four Stars was prominent in name only. Nopony I knew had any idea what they did, besides what their name implied. And no zebra would be able to run a company. Pinkie Pie wouldn't let them take a step without eyes watching. This place makes no sense."
"Done." A single option was on the screen. Cashew looked at me, perplexed. I shrugged, and she selected 'final message'.
The lights switched to red, and a yellow light began to sweep around the room. The wall behind us hissed and split open, revealing a small elevator. From a speaker on the desk a zebra mare speaking equestrian started talking.
"-verride complete. This is my final message to Equestria and the world. I'm so sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn't have been part of this; allowed this to happen." She interrupted herself with a hiccup and a sob. Cashew and I were both alarmed but deadly silent as she continued.
"Whoever gets to hear this, take the elevator to escape. I'd like to think I could save at least one life. If it weren't for Flashpoint we would have saved so many. That bastard." Now I was seriously curious. What in Tartarus did Flashpoint have to do with Four Stars. Cashew's stare was asking me the same thing.
"I hope the bombs kill him, but he did so much damage to our plans... it doesn't matter anymore. We failed. I hope you learn from our mistakes." Another sob, a familiar click- BLAM.
Cashew eyes darted around before settling on the monitor. "Crapbaskets, we need to go. Think we can trust the elevator?"
I glanced at the monitor to see the words 'Self Destruct Initiated' in the center. "No timer, no choice." We dashed in and hit the big red button labeled 'Emergency Surface'.
The doors snapped shut and the room surged up, almost crushing us to the floor and reminding me of when I learned to never let a Shadowbolt drive a skywagon. Cashew looked more stable than I, but we both waited with growing apprehension. The good ending came when the elevator grinded to a halt and the door hissed open to the inside of a storage barn for the actual Colliery. We traded caution for the need to get away from anything currently self-destructing.
Bursting out the barn door we came muzzle to muzzle with a rifle barrel. Behind it was a pegasus stallion in a duster, reared up and holding the pose with his wings to hold the rifle in his hooves like a zebra. His mane, coat, and duster were all shades of brown, with mane darkest and coat lightest, and there seemed to be something under the duster; bags or barding, I couldn’t tell. Nopony moved.
The pegasus spoke first, his voice dry and even with a light drawl. “State yer name and business.”
I decided on the short and sweet version. "We found a secret facility and set off a self destruct system." He shrugged, unconcerned. "It hasn't blown up yet. We have no idea what will happen."
His ears perked up forward, but he shook his head. "Probably nothing. Been a long time; all those prewar systems got a few kinks. I'd wager they tried to self destruct before and nothing happened then neither." His look grew more and more smug as we stared at him in the uneventful silence.
Cashew pawed the dirt and said, "Just because nothing has happened doesn't mean something won't happen. I've messed with enough prewar secrets to know that when something doesn't work out as they planned it, it always malfunctions in the worst way possible."
I gave her a raised eyebrow. "Is that really true?" That would be surprising, considering the precautions we went through, but thinking about how it ended…
“Ya’ll still haven’t given me yer names.” There was still a gun pointed at us.
“My name is Ruby Moon.” The gun lifted immediately.
Cashew said more slowly, “I’m Cashew.”
The stallion had slung his rifle and dropped to all his hooves. “Ah’m Dust Devil. I’ve been sent to find you, a red unicorn mare named Ruby Moon, and bring you, peacefully, to my employer. She claims that you’re an old friend of hers.”
That was supremely curious. “Does she have a name?”
“Moondancer.”
Moondancer. I had known and looked up to her my whole adult life. To know she was alive was both warming and disconcerting. She must also be like Onyx.
Cashew was not distracted by nostalgia and responded first. “That’s nice, but we have business to take care of first.”
Dust shrugged, “Ah’m in no hurry. Moondancer wants to see you, but she didn’t say anything about urgency. She only wanted me to help you figure out the wasteland until you decide to go visit her in Tower.”
How nice of her. “She sent me a wasteland guide?”
He smiled and reached under his coat, revealing a pack that aspired to be like Trashbin’s. From it he pulled a magazine and held it out for me. While I floated it over, he said, “Well, she did send you a Wasteland Survival Guide, but I get yer meaning.”
The guide was a bit of a mess, clearly written in haphazard fashion by some pony named Ditzy Doo. I turned to the pages about trading and sure enough; caps. This book would actually be useful. I put it away as neatly as I could.
We were silent for a few more moments. No rumble. No smoke from the barn hiding the elevator. Maybe it did malfunction? Or worse, we were deceived?
Dust, fully trusting the failure of the self destruct device, eyed our barding and guns. "Did ya'll find some good loot?"
Cashew shook her head. "Oh, no you don’t. This location is off limits to scavengers. I have to report this to the Steel Rangers. With an intact Four Stars headquarters able to be inspected, there is no chance my Elder won't send a platoon to occupy it."
Dust shrugged, disappointed but unconcerned, and looked at me. “So, then, where to, boss.”
“I’d like to check out a place south of here, then head back to Station. Should only be a few hours. Once there Miss Cashew and I will sort something out and then I’m fine with heading to Moondancer.”
Cashew perked up. "Wait, you expect me to go with you? What, am I in your party now?"
I poked her where the battlemage badge was visible beside the shotgun. "I don't want my armor damaged, so you're sticking with me until I convince you to trade it. I'm sure we can accommodate your duties until then."
“Fine.”
v^V^v
"Pony Joes?” Dust Devil said. “Only ponies that ever hole up in a Pony Joes are raiders. Dunno why, just is. No point in talkin', they'll just take the opportunity to shoot us. I think we should leave."
Raiders? That's the name Trashbin had implied to the ponies outside Stable 45's door. They had been aggressive, filthy, and suicidally stupid. I didn't like that there were so many raiders in the wasteland that a popular and incredibly common restaurant had become known as their hangout. I looked at the ranger. "You feel the same way?"
"Absolutely. What he said about Pony Joes is true, and raiders are the only ponies that I believe should be shot on sight. What do you want with this place, anyway?"
Shot on sight did not mean charge blindly in. “Someone told me I would find something here. I want to know what. Dust, can you slip up to the roof and spy some info on the target.”
“As my role of wasteland guide, my official advice is to avoid raiders. Nothing good will come from them.” He went out the back, flying up out of sight.
The Pony Joes was on the edge of Trottingham, which meant it was largely protected from wherever the balefire bomb had detonated. Judging by the faint debris fallen from the tallest buildings I could see, I'd guess the other side of the city, somewhere between the ranger armor factory and the army base. Sensible location for the target. Luckily, the residential areas were across the city. Also known as right here.
Dust came back rather quickly.
“They had live prisoners,” he said in a rush.
My tilted a tiny bit. “What do you mean by live?”
Cashew answered. “Live is a very temporary condition with raiders. They only take prisoners to torture and rape them until they’re bored, and then the prisoners die.”
Anger flooded through me. Anger at the depravity of ponies. At what happened to the world after the megaspells. Mostly anger at Watcher. Had he sent me here to save them? Why didn’t he say so in the first place. My eyes still on Cashew, I realised that if I had went here first, she might be dead. How many would I have saved here? How many will I save now?
I crept up to a window on the ground floor of the train stop, Cashew and Dust behind me. The view wasn’t great, but I didn’t want to attract attention just yet.
The houses around Pony Joes offered little cover, as it seemed they had been damaged by more recent events. If raiders frequented the restaurant, then it made sense to me that it would be a constant battleground. The building itself had a ramshackle wall made largely of debris from the collapsed houses around it. A single guard walked the rampart, but was more often looking in than out, apparently missing out of some activity. Mounted on the wall were pony body parts, some fresh, others less so. I could smell the stench from here, and while I wished I would use the spell to block that sense, I, as a rule, never limited my senses. Besides, this stench would remind me what I'm here to do. The best part was that it was about an hour since we left Clopstone, an hour since I had used any magic. Plenty of time to recharge.
"Dust, take up a position wherever you think is best. Cashew, cover his back. I might need him focused. If he decides to go airborne, help me if you can but stay safe."
She looked a bit hurt by more words. "I'm not baggage, y'know. I should go with you. The scavenger can protect himself."
I only stared at the camp. "I'm teleporting in now."
"What-" Dust started, but I didn't hear the rest. The world flashed around me and I was standing next to the pony on the wall, who was staring into the courtyard of this castle. There, a half dozen raider ponies were laughing at the butchered bodies of a pair of stallions. Another couple of raiders were trying to get into the restaurant itself, but a third, large earth pony was standing in their way. I pressed the shotgun against the head of the low quality guard and blew his head off.
Everypony's eyes were on me. For a moment, no pony moved. I racked the shotgun.
"Every raider is going to die." I said the words loud and clear, with nothing but malice to fill them. Everypony started to move, and I started firing.
The nearest raider, a earth pony mare, light blue under loads of blood and raggedly assembled spiked armor, screamed when my shotgun blew away her forelegs. An earth pony stallion attempting to pull some kind of spear from one of the corpses received a lightning bolt to his head, dropping him next to his victims. A quick unicorn stallion floating a spiked baseball bat in a yellow glow was running up the stairs to the rampart. A burst of flame from my horn had him stumbling off the stairs and writhing in unquenchable fire.
The pony in the door had stepped inside, but everypony else was rushing at me or a weapon to attack me with, so I ran down the length of the rampart, launching a bolt of fire at an earth pony mare with a pistol in her mouth. She dropped, charred ribs smoking, and her pistol went flying. It didn't land as a blue glow encompassed it, but I didn't see the unicorn who had grabbed it.
I jumped off the rampart, landing in front of a earth pony colt, a terrified look in his eyes, and kicked him down before I shot a unicorn stallion whose red coat was indistinguishable from the blood now pooling around his body.
The pistol in the blue glow started shooting at me, forcing me to move, so I ran at the Pony Joes. Before I reached the door, two stallions ran out, one holding another ridiculous pool cue in his mouth, and a unicorn with a pipe that had a crude axe bolted to it. The unicorn received a shotgun blast, rendering his head unusable, while the earth pony was awarded with nearby pebbles accelerated to the speed of sound peppering his body until he stopped moving.
The big earth pony stepped out of the doorway with a single minigun in a unbalanced battle saddle. He opened fire while I rolled away and prepared a shield. He wildly swung the weapon around, not reaching me before my shield appeared between us. I drew both pistols and floated them out of the shield on either side of the spray of bullets. He paused the barrage for a moment, allowing me to see the panic on his face as he started to aim at one of the guns. I shot his leg, causing him to fall and shoot into the air.
CRACK. Dust joined the fight, but I couldn't see who he had shot, only that the floating pistol dropped.
Before the stallion now writhing on the ground could stand, I dropped my shield and walked up to him, holstering one of the pistols but putting the other to his head. He started to snarl, but I pulled the trigger. I wasn’t interested in what he had to say.
I stepped inside to see nothing of the restaurant I once knew remaining. Gore was everywhere, including the mattresses in the corners. The displays for donuts were filled with chunks of what I could only surmise was pony flesh. More body parts decorated the walls and hung from the ceiling. On three tables were the beaten, bruised and bloody remains of ponies. It didn't take a M.A.S. tech to know what had happened to them.
I wished I hadn't killed all of the raiders- wait, I had left the colt alive, and maybe there were others. Moving to the nearest, I put my ear to her mouth.
I heard no breathing.
The next was just as silent-
A cough rasped from the third.
I shot the straps holding her to the table and lifted her in my magic. I gave her a healing spell, first targeting her battered internals. All the damage to her body meant that I couldn't even identify what color her coat was, and I could barely tell that her mane was a bright blue. I considered the anesthesia spell, but I wasn't sure how much blood she had lost. If I put her under, she might not come back up.
A gasp from the door drew my attention. Cashew stood with a hoof over her mouth. She was staring at the mare I was floating. I walked at the door, Cashew backing out, and stepped outside with the still healing mare floating behind me.
Dust stood behind three ponies in the dirt. A brown earth pony stallion, whose red mane might have just been stained with blood. A yellow unicorn mare with a burnt orange mane, cropped short, with Dust's rifle in her back. Finally, the terrified colt, his dark blue mane raggedly resting on a copper coat.
I walked up to them, standing before them. The adult stallion reeled, seeming to be mad or to have suffered a concussion. The mare stared at me, unafraid. The colt looked away, his terror fading. I pulled out a pistol and shot the stallion in the head.
The mare flinched, and Cashew drew a sharp breath beside me. I put the pistol to the mares head. Dust backed out of the splash zone. Pulling the trigger, her head adding to the mess of the courtyard. I stepped up to the colt. He was a blank flank.
"Did you join in the fun?" He didn't respond. "Are you a raider?" Nothing. I jerked his head to face me, and his eyes locked onto mine. "Do you deserve to die?" His eyes looked away. I let him out of my magic and put my gun to his head. I could see his eye twitch when he felt the barrel press against his temple.
I didn't want to kill him. He was young, raised in an environment that taught nothing but violence and hate and death. He had never known anything else, but deserved the chance to know it.
I wanted to kill him. His crimes had been done, and what civility could I have when I allow murderers and rapists to live free? Yet there is no prison to contain them; the harsh setting of the wasteland requires a death to settle a crime. He must die to create the peace we once had.
What would my companions do? The ones who had lived their entire lives dealing with ponies such as this group? Dust, I suspect, would have turned a blind eye and never interacted with the raiders to begin with. He can run, and has nothing of value for them to hold hostage. Cashew would give the colt a chance at redemption. Perhaps the other raiders, too, but I could be wrong about that.
No, my companions will not decide my fate for me. I will take the wasteland head on and cast my own destiny upon it and everypony, every creature who lived within my Equestria. That destiny would offer but one chance to be better. Only one chance before the hammer of Equestria's fury would lay judgement upon your horror.
"One chance. Only one. Find the line of civility and never cross it again, or I will end you."
Footnote: Updated Perk List. Added Perk: Fast Casting -- Casting complex magics can sometimes take too long to make them effective in combat, but you’ve learned how to adjust how your magic interacts with SATS to make them take less time. Wait, you don’t...
Gained Quest Perk: Violent Vigilante -- You are a force of justice and do not take kindly to corruption or violence in Your Equestria. Against filthy slavers and abominable raiders you do +15% damage and have a bonus to hit in SATS. Not that you even use SATS...
Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Chapter 5: Shadows and Dreams
Fallout: Equestria
Echoes
Chapter 5: Shadows and Dreams
The sky was overcast. A single pair of wings fluttered now and then. A flash and a shine emitted from my horn, and a floating, glowing mare came closer and closer to life. Sunlight struggled to breach the clouds along the horizon while soft classical music, a cover of an Octavia original, had been playing on the radio for at least the last hour.
No words were said.
I worked the healing spells I knew in every way I could think of, restoring bruised muscle, mending broken bones, restoring ruptured organs. Honestly, the silence was good. I wouldn't have been able to concentrate on saving this mare's life if Cashew or Dust had me busy questioning my morality. Saving a victim, that was a good thing. Killing a criminal, wasn't that good in this hellish version of my world? I did not know Dust well enough to understand where his judgment lay, but he seemed unconcerned with the specifics of the battle, only happy that we, or at least he, was unharmed. Cashew, however, was not so casual. Maybe it was hope? Perhaps she had a dream or a goal; something to believe in. I think the only thing keeping her quiet was my efforts to heal the mare.
With Station's light coming into sight, I realized that it was all I knew of this Equestria. Were there other settlements like this, where ponies lived free to their means and not stomped on for being weaker than another pony? Or was that also a lie, and Station was another hovel for good ponies to hide from under the hooves of others? If the heavily armed ponies leaving Station's gate for the south were any indication, then even the ponies of Station were crawling in the dirt of freedom.
Dust had trotted ahead to get a look at the departing group, and was waiting for us to reach him. “Those are Rust Rebels, and from the look of it their leader is with them.”
I scoffed, “Sorry, who?” I need a good break to scour the Wasteland Guide. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so clueless.
Cashew eyed them, her furrowed brow looking strange on her face. “A bandit gang. Surely here to muscle the good ponies away from their caps.”
“Reckon' so. Anyhow, looks like we missed 'em, which is lucky for them I'd say. Don't imagine miss battlemage here will suffer fools to live.” There it was.
Cashew turned to confront me, but I walked past her. “Ruby Moon, we have to talk about what you've done.”
“What I've done is none of your concern,” I spat. “This mare is still on the brink of death. Just because we can see the yellow of her coat doesn't mean it's sunshine and daisies for her.”
Cashew wouldn't let up. “Hiding behind a good deed does nothing. You executed those ponies without a second thought.”
“Killin' raiders?” Dust snapped a bitter laugh. “Sounds fine to me when I say it like that.”
Cashew's glare did it's best to shoot me. “They were prisoners! And that colt-
I stopped. Pouring magic into a spell, the overglow on my horn lit us up light a beacon in the early night. “Rapists and murderers!” I spent the energy, the healing glow covering the floating mare's entire body. “Kill them, or leave them be! Those are my options. I can’t imprison anypony; there isn’t a prison to put them in. Anypony with a gun is the law, isn’t that the way things are here? I killed them, on the spot, and if I hadn’t they might be hunting us down even now.”
Her jaw clenched tight. “All ponies deserve a chance.” It was frustrating that we saw so close to eye to eye, but she just didn't understand my rage. If only things hadn't ended up this way.
“Now now, everypony needs to take a deep breath and calm down. Ruby's first point is right; this mare is still in the woods. Lets get on into Station and give her to a medical pony to nest up and then we can discuss our differences.”
Shaking her head, Cashew resumed walking toward Station. “I don't think so. After we see to the mare, I'm giving you your barding and we're going our separate ways.”
I marched up next to her in silent agreement. After a moment's consideration, I floated the mare onto my back. I realized that she was heavier than she looked, and almost tall enough for her hooves to brush the ground. Dust followed with a huff. The music from his radio faded into static.
Cashew shouted, “Something’s coming-”
Dirt burst up before me, a black claw snapping just a moment too early, the point of the pincer pushing into the barding. I fell away, floating the mare off me and into the sky while I rolled and brought my weapons up at the creature. It spun to face me and charged. I unloaded my small arsenal onto it.
Targeting the tail with the pistols, I hoped to damage or dismember that terrifying stinger. I had the shotgun put blast after blast into what I thought was the creature's face. That distraction allowed me to duck and dodge the panicked swipes and snaps of the giant claws. While stepping away, a rock caught my hoof and I stumbled. A wild snap came at me and I ducked under, stumbling in toward the creature, and stomped a hoof on the mush of it's face so it wouldn't bowl me over. That poor decision let it know where I was, and the battered stinger struck at me, barely missing my diving body, and buried in the dirt.
The radscorpion must have taken some brain damage because it continued walking forward despite the buried tail, and up-ended itself. Now laying on it's back, the beast just flicked it's legs around like it was still trying to walk.
Dust's rifle cracked. I turned to see Cashew yelling and running from another radscorpion. Dust, hovering above, slid the bolt into place and fired another round. The giant bug stopped chasing Cashew to defend itself but only found me. Thanks, Dust. This bug didn’t reach me before our combined fire rendered it unmoving.
No more words were said. We ran to the nearest gate and, luckily, the watch let us in without a question. I checked the mare again before returning her to my back as Dust asked the guardspony if somepony named Patch was still the town doc. Receiving a confirmation, Dust led us down into the town. Down a street and a single corner and we were entering a comparatively well off shack. Once inside, which fit the four of us with little room to spare, we were not greeted by a petite earth pony stallion who seemed to be dazing off. The rest of the shack was filled with shelves lightly packed with various chems, stims, and vials. There were some that I recognized, but plenty that looked hoofmade.
Dust tapped the bell on the counter next to Patch's head. “You got customers.”
Snapping up to quickly, the young stallion let out a surprised whinny before he fell back off his stool. “Sorry, business has been light today, everypony been on their hooves with the Rust Rebels paying us a visit and all. How can I- Sweet Celestia what happened to her?” Having actually looked at us, he rushed to my side to look at the mare on my back.
Dust's voice was low. “Saved her from a Pony Joes.”
The young stallion gave a surprisingly dark look. “That's terrible, but she doesn't look that bad, considering.” He looked at me, or rather, my horn. “You know some healing spells?”
I nodded. “I learned that lesson long ago. I can't be sure, but I believe I stopped any internal bleeding. At this point she might just need time to recuperate.”
Patch went to the back of the room and opened a metal door. Realizing that all of the metal in the room had smooth, rounded edges I decided this stallion was more attentive than his impression made him out to be. “Bring her back here. Sorry, the rest of you wait here.”
I followed him in, and despite being a surgery room, it was tight. He shut the door behind me while I walked up to the gurney, which was on some sort of slide rail. There was just enough room for a pony to stand beside it, and the rail went under a gap in the wall- which was actually a door. A tool box and a surgical tray were in the corner, and all of this was lit from a single overhead lamp.
“Could you put her there?” I did as he asked, laying her gently on the stained bedding. “Any idea who she is?” He asked as he began studying her in earnest.
“No. She's been unconscious since we found her, which was earlier today.” At this point, she's not really my concern anymore. “I haven't any connection to her, and she was the only pony left alive.”
“I take it you killed the monsters who did this?” His voice was too casual, like he had this sort of thing happen too often.
After a moment I said, “Yes.”
A few minutes passed while he examined her. I watched, content to let my mind wander rather than push the issue of leaving her in his care, or even less desirable thoughts such as payment.
In a day, I had watched the end of my Equestria, blinked through who knows how many years, and woken up to find all the ponies left had become monsters. Some were better than others, like Dust and Cashew. I didn't understand how the three of us had such different philosophies of 'good'. There were also slavers. Ghouls. Raiders.
I wondered how quickly the society of ponies had fallen. Meadow had lived for a time while I slept. Was it filled with violence and misery? Or had she found solace, or even hope?
“She's a Mustang,” Patch said, matter of factly, while facing me. I stared at him with raised eyebrows. “You don't know what a Mustang is?”
“Sorry, no. I'm new here. To the wasteland, that is.” He returned my look. “I was in a stasis pod in Stable 45. I lived in Equestria before the war.”
He ever widening eyes had reached their limit. “You don't happen to be a doctor, right?”
“Again, sorry, no. Any medical expertise I have is limited to how I can apply magic to it.”
He grinned. “I have a unicorn friend, she's pretty good with spells, I think. Could you teach her?” That actually sounded pretty good. It would be rather therapeutic to help a good pony out.
“Yes, I could.” He extended a hoof, and I shook it with mine.
“Deal then. I take care of this mare, who looks stable by the way, and you teach Blossom healing magic.” I blinked. I hadn't expected this to be free. Well, free enough. “I've got to take care of the Mustang, but catch up with me later and I'll introduce you to Blossom. You should ask your friends who a Mustang is.” He opened the door over the rails; it led to a series of waiting rooms with curtains to separate them. I was quite impressed with the setup. While he rolled the Mustang mare through the door, I returned to the storefront.
Dust was perusing the wares while Cashew was stewing near the door. When I came out, Dust sighed and put a hoof to the bag of caps at his chest.
“How much do we owe?” I chose to believe his callousness was confidence in my healing.
“Nothing. I agreed to teach a friend of his some healing spells.” Dust let the tension out of his shoulders a little too much over saving some caps. “Who, or what, is a Mustang? The mare is apparently one.”
Cashew spat, “We rescued a ganger? Fantastic.” Dust bristled at that.
“Mustangs are no more gangers than Steel Rangers,” his wings flared, almost knocking a cup of vials over.
Cashew stomped a hoof into the metal floor. “We are not gangers. Mustangs have attacked Steel Rangers for no reason-”
“And Steel Rangers have killed ponies for no good reason. I'm surprised ya haven't tried to shoot Ruby in the back for her pipbuck. Mustangs act like gangers so the gangers don't mess with em, but they don't hurt good folk just tryin' ta live. Heck, I believe it if every time a Mustang attacked a Steel Ranger was cause he knew somepony close by had something the ranger would kill em for.”
The two stood their ground, jaws clenched and brows furrowed. I didn't know anything about how Steel Rangers acted outside of Cashews standoffishness, and no idea of Mustangs outside of what Dust had just said. There was nothing I could add or interject with. Dust had made his point, and Cashew seemed to be unable to refute it.
The door of the shop opened and a dark green mare walked in.
“Ah, just the group I was looking for,” Ivy said. She glanced between Dust and Cashew, handily ignored the obvious dispute, and settled on me. “That gang that was just here, the Rust Rebels- the leader took your sword.”
My jaw clenched. With a quickly look between Ivy and myself, Dust shook off his previous frustration for disappointment. “We're gonna go after 'em, aren't we.”
Cashew was still scowling. “Rust Rebels?” She glared at me and sighed. “Ruby, I'll help you get your sword if you help me take the Rust Rebel base. I can even call in reinforcements.”
I frowned. “You threaten to leave only to offer additional assistance?”
“The Rust Rebels inhabit the Ironshod Armory. We Steel Rangers have been trying to take it for months, but the gangers have managed to jury rig enough of the facility to produce basic firearms and ammunition. We need the facility operational, but we don't have the equipment or training to take on that many ponies without laying waste to the facility.”
I smiled. “You need someone who can kill without heavy ordnance. You can't just swap out rocket launchers for machine guns? I know ranger armor is capable of that.”
Cashew shrugged and shook her head. “Then we run into the other problem; there are a lot of Rust Rebels. We don't have the numbers to assault them on equal hoofing like that. We've been fighting them openly to thin the herd, but their numbers don't go down, while we can't replace our losses.”
Dust smirked. “Should you really be telling us all this?”
She glared at him. “We aren't in a position of weakness. It's only that theirs is a position of strength.” She looked back at me. “I'll help you do this and then we're done.”
Ivy was frowning by this point. “You plan on attacking Ironhoof?”
I raised an eyebrow at the tone. “If he is the leader, then yes. Unless he’s willing to return my sword.”
Her face scrunched up. “They left not even an hour ago. Filly Fairweather Park is a Rust Rebel outpost between their base and Station; Ironhoof will stop there, probably for a few hours. You can catch him there.”
I eyed Cashew, who was removing my barding in a hurry. “Were you going to mention this?”
“Of course,” she said brusquely. “I want them weakened in any way possible. Killing Ironhoof? Perfect. He's a strong and intelligent leader. Take out their park outpost? Excellent. Allows us to start cutting off Ironshod from their supply lines. I would love for you to help us take Ironshod, but I have nothing to offer you.” She had finished removing the barding; she was quite familiar with combat barding to have removed it that quickly. “Here; this is yours. Now since we are in a hurry, lets just go buy the best barding we see with your reward for the hydra.”
I didn't have a chance to ask how she knew about the reward before Dust had started, “Wait, reward? Are you saying you killed that monster?”
Ivy's slightly open jaw held for a moment before giving way to a crooked smile. “Why, I have your reward all right here. 300 caps.” She hoofed out a bag from her belt, which I took in my magic. I swear there was no possible way that bag held that ridiculous number of bottlecaps.
Dust stomped in disbelief. “300 caps for killing a hydra? What nonsense is that?”
I nodded and looked at Ivy. “The deal was that I would get ten percent of the reward and my sword. Since you are unable to give me my sword…”
She was quite stiff for a moment, but smiled a bit too widely and said, “I’ll give you a note good for twenty seven hundred.” She pulled out a paper and pencil from her saddlebag and began writing. “But only good in Station. I’m sorry, but it’s the best I can do.”
I floated the bag to my companion. “Dust, can you take those caps and buy Cashew whatever barding she wants?” Once in his hooves he opened the bag and started fishing through it, murmuring to himself. I can't imagine he was actually counting them.
He immediately paused, looking up at me with a accusing glare. “Anything else you'd like?”
I gestured to my guns as I placed them gently on the ground. “10 mil, 12 gauge, .38, whatever ammo you need, maybe a couple healing potions for each of us. And a bit of food. I daresay fresh fruit or vegetables if they exist.” I shuddered, pausing my efforts to remove the light security barding. Once I removed the holsters and emptied the pockets, I floated the barding to him. “You can sell this.” He flung it over his back with a smile. “And Dust? Thank you.”
He tipped his hat with a wing and said “Yes, milady,” and stepped out the door, Cashew right behind him. I started the familiar process of putting on my barding.
Ivy watched me for a moment before saying anything. “What brought you to my best doctors office?”
“I stopped by a Pony Joes on the way back.” She responded with a slight gasp. “Found a victim alive and rescued her. She’s in the back with the doctor.”
“That’s… I admit, I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not sure what to think of you, Ruby Moon.” In response to my silence she entered the back room.
I finished settling my weapons over the familiar barding just as another pony walked in. This time, it was Trashbin with a small box nestled on his back.
“Ruby, glad I caught ya. Heard you might be off again quicker than a sunny day in the wasteland? Anywho, I found just about everything was found in yer mansion. Not much, I gotta say. If I remember right, they were hounded by ghouls before they really got to grabbing', but I guess they got enough?”
I floated the box off his back and set it on the ground between us. He continued, “Everything that was still in town is in there. I can tell you what left, but I think the only bit of it you'll care about is your gun.” I paused looking in the bags to meet his eyes. “Somepony bought it right away. Don't have the feller's name, but I can tell you he's a merc workin' for Big Boss down south.”
Really? “Big Boss related to Big Shot?”
He let out a raspy guffaw. “Naw, I doubt it.” I rummaged through the box while he went on. “Big Shot don't play it like he is, but he don't deny it neither. There's a rumor they and another feller named Big Daddy, famous out round Manehattan, are all brothers, but I figure they all think being named Big sounds imposing or something like.”
“What's Big Boss all about?” There wasn’t much I valued in here. There were random bits from mansions all around the block mine was on, but nothing in it interested me so far.
“Big Boss is the big power on the south side of the blast zone.” Something still buried caught my eye. It looked like a unicorn horn. I pulled out everything on top of it.
Trashbin continued, “Big Boss took control of the biggest gang and turned 'em into mercs.” It was a skull. A fake one, as it was too small for an adult but the wrong proportions for a foal. I picked it up with my magic.
“He started absorbing the other gangs-” A familiar feeling came from the skull and I tried to let it go, but it was too late. The world was a flush of sensation for long enough to be replaced with another.
ooO Ooo
The skull was a memory orb.
I know full well the kinds of things that can be done with memory orbs, and I didn’t like accidentally getting into one with a skull motif. When I get out of this, Trashbin had better have had no knowledge of this or we’ll have words. Harsh ones.
With mixed feelings I realized that I was inside the memory of a unicorn stallion. We were standing inside a very dark room, lit only by a pair of candles near a door. We were across the room from the light, and I couldn’t make out any features of the pony. The door and candlesticks were both exquisite, something a pony would find in my family mansion or any of the mansions around it.
Pain jolted across my skin! No, it was in my horn and my hoof and everywhere else. Lightning and fire and ice tore me apart, ripping apart my skin but there was nothing. My host sat still as a statue. He did not shift or flinch. I could feel that his bones were not broken but they felt like a glass teardrop as it shatters into uncountable pieces. Yet in all of this my host was still. I couldn’t even scream.
Hours or minutes or days of torment went on before, in a blessed distraction, the door opened and a pony I recognized hardly stepped in before my host spoke. His voice was chilling, a deep raspy rumble that dripped of total hatred. “You have kept me waiting, Jet Set.”
“My apologies, my lord. I will-”
“I am not here for your excuses.” Jet Set, a unicorn who did indeed have a mansion in Hollow Shades, seemed physically injured by the voice of my host.
“You will do my bidding and you will do it without error. I have rewarded you well for your success, and I will reward you just as well for your failure.”
The magic that reached through the horn of my host was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Just as Princess Celestia was light and noble and wholesome, this was dark and hateful and impure. I wanted to feel sick, wanted to dispel the magic and destroy it, but I could do nothing. A dozen candles in a circle lit on the desk before me. In the center was the very memory orb I was watching.
“This is your reward. When you forget what the punishment for failure is, watch this memory orb. It will remind you to succeed.” Lightning streaked from the horn of my host and into Jet Set, sending him writhing to the ground. No sound came from his body despite his gaping mouth. His skin smoked from the heat. The pain in my own body intensified, cutting into my thoughts and blinding my mind. I barely felt the next spell go through the horn. It was a memory copy spell, to put this very memory into the orb. But it was wrong. He was altering it.
The world and the pain washed away, replaced by the the wall of Patch’s surgery room. I bolted out of the chair and into the front room. Wide eyes from Trashbin and Patch stared at me.
“What the fuck was that, Trashbin?” The agony fresh in my mind and I was heaving air into and out of my lungs. I saw counters and doors and counters and stumbled into the doorframe though I tried to stand still.
I heard a pony jump to his hooves and saw something get close, filling my sight with the doctor pony, what was his name? “Was that a bad memory orb? You look faint-”
I put my hoof on his shoulder and pushed him aside. “Did you know?” I held my eyes wide, finding for Trashbin amidst the circling walls.
Shapes stirred and jingled, shaking about. “I didn’t know nothing about no memory orb. I didn’t exactly search through that box. Only got everything from anypony found in the place you asked.”
I slid to the floor. I didn’t have anything to rage against. I could only relish that the pain was gone. “How- how long have I been out?”
My eyes closed on their own, the weight stronger than my fading will. I heard somepony say five minutes, but that seemed absurd. There was no way it had been so short.
v^V^v
Wracking coughs woke me into a hellish inferno. I rolled onto my hooves and crawled under the smoke, trying to gather my bearings. I was on a wooden floor, but I could not see my surroundings. Crawling forward, I reached what seemed to be a door. Reaching a hoof up for a handle, I found and pulled to open the door.
The smoke billowed into the room and cleared before my eyes, revealing a growling ghoul before me. I recognized her and stumbled away from the feral remains of my mother. I turned and ran, rounding a corner to see a bloody diner, filled with mangled chunks of ponies. One ravaged mare stirred, and I rushed to her side. Her head turned and Meadowsweet’s mauve eyes pleaded for a merciful end. I tried to scream, but I could do nothing.
I woke with a yell, sitting up and staring at the scrap metal wall before me. My breathing was heavy, and I stared at nothing..
Finally glancing around the room, the first thing I saw was a reinforced ponnican wearing my barding. The general clutter around it told me that I was in Trashbin’s house. Across the room was the pony himself, flanked by Cashew and Dust Devil. All three were quietly staring at me.
I’m certain I didn’t look nice. “Can I help you?”
They all looked a little pained. Cashew opened up first. “I think we should be asking you that.”
Ignoring her, I stood and began putting on my barding. “How long was I out?”
The old pony answered, regret clear in his voice. “About two hours from when you first picked up that orb.”
“Where is it?” He reached into a pocket, carefully pulling out the white skull. With the proper twist in my magic, I pulled the orb to me and looked at it closely.
My action drew a start from all three of them, followed by collective frowns. Cashew approached me, looking at the orb as well.
Dust said, “How’re you holdin’ that? I thought you watched those by picking them up with your magic.”
I gave him a dismissive sigh. “You just have to adjust your- well, my magic a little. If I know I’m handling an orb, than it’s no issue, but I’ve never seen an orb with this sort of shell around it.”
Cashew went to take it in her hoof but I floated it away and into my bags. “What was in it?” She asked.
“Torture. The unicorn who created this knew dark magic and deliberately mishandled the spell to cause the viewer intense pain while watching the orb. In the actual memory, he tortured the very pony that he made the orb for as a penalty for failure.”
A mixture of surprise and revulsion looked back at me. Cashew and Trashbin both started at the same time, but the elder bowed slightly to the younger.
“Where did it come from? And is there any chance the dark unicorn behind it is still around?”
I shrugged. “I only know that the victim in the memory was a resident of Hollow Shades. I don’t know what he did to occupy his time. As for him being around, any of you would know more than I.”
The short silence after was ended by Trashbin. “Why do you want to keep it?”
I stared at him until I stared past him. I hadn’t considered a reason. I know that I didn’t want any other pony to come across it like I did, but why not destroy it? No, it was a question. The orb was an enigma that did nothing but give me the need to answer it.
“I want to know more.” That seemed to satisfy him, though my companions looked like they felt the response was lackluster. “However, now is not the time for it. Am I correct to assume you are both ready to depart?”
“We are, but are you?” Cashew was looking me over. I took a moment to do the same to her. While not better than mine, she and Dust had managed to find what I suspected was the best suit of barding in Station; a cobbled together combat barding. Unlike mine, the pieces did not all fit together due to differing sizes, and the coloring was not uniform. Regardless, it would protect her from bullets and pool cues.
Dust sighed and shook his head. I suspected he wasn’t at all interested in picking a fight with these ‘Rust Rebels’. I wondered how far he would go to carry out his mission.
“Ah bought some of everything you asked for, but ah figured you’d need some caps on hand for later. It’s all in your bags, and I’m sure that pip buck of yours will sort it out for you.”
I frowned. “What- no, I don’t use it for that. Thank you, though, for you assistance. I promise it won’t be long before I visit Tower.”
Strapping on my saddlebag, I motioned for everyone to start moving. Trashbin once again led me to the same gate, though this time a mare opened the door for us. Cashew and Dust started walking out but stopped when I paused.
I waved them off, “I’ll catch up in a moment. Just a parting word with Trashbin.”
Cashew eyed me a moment, but they both continued into the night.
The old stallion smiled. “A word with me?”
“I spoke with him. Your sprite bot friend.” I stared at him, hoping to glimpse a secret.
Gentle friendliness turned to surprise. “Watcher? Hardly a day in the wasteland and you’ve already talked to him?”
“Who is he?” He didn’t look so cheerful now. I suspect he didn’t like my tone.
“No pony knows. He just floats around, talking to ponies from time to time. Likes to lead them to do good things, so I like him, but some would say he gets ponies killed.”
I didn’t need to ask how. If he sent a poor, inexperienced pony into a raider haven like he sent me, I think the Mustang would have had a replacement.
“That Mustang in the doctor’s office, with Patch - she’s alive because Watcher sent me there. Her friends are not because Watcher didn’t tell me why.”
His expression drooped but he said nothing more. I turned away from him and followed my companions into the night.
Without the light of Equestria’s cities and the shine from Luna’s moon and all the stars blocked by the still overcast sky, the night was darker than any I had seen. Station behind me was like a lighthouse in a storm, and I was walking away from it, out into the unknown. At least, this time, I wasn’t alone.
“Are either of you trackers?” I looked at Cashew who quickly waved a hoof. My eyes went to Dust. He only shrugged and sighed before flying off ahead of us. With him gone, I realized that I was in prime position to have an unfortunate confrontation.
Cashew’s voice was softer than I expected. “You said the memory was torture? Like the dark unicorn intended the orb to be that way?”
“Yes,” was all I could say. It had been the most intense physical pain of my life, and it hadn’t even been mine.
“I didn’t know they could be used like that.”
“They weren’t, normally.” Never, to my knowledge. “The practical uses varied, but the war brought out the more extreme ones. Ministry of Peace technicians would attempt to help troubled ponies by manipulating or removing the troubling memories. Ministry of Morale agents would often rip the guilty memories from conspirators, and I can say I’ve done something similar. I even heard some rumors that ponies would pay for memory orbs of intense events so that they may experience them in safety.”
“I can’t believe I found a pony like you. A survivor outside of time.”
Every waking moment was now a reminder of how that defined me. Trotting along the half buried train tracks leading to Trottingham, I watched the dark figure that was Dust land, inspect something, look back to ensure we were following, then fly up again and search for more from the sky.
“So you plan to turn me in to your leaders like some kind of treasure?” That was the feeling Dust had given me.
The amount of steps before she responded did nothing but encourage that feeling.
“I want to, yes. I can't say for sure what Elder Split Pea would do with you, but I do believe the best place for a pony in your situation is under the care and guidance of the Steel Rangers.” There was a baited breath where she wanted to say more but held back.
“I haven't heard much to their favor. If that doesn't change then my response to any proposal of theirs will be negative.”
“I think you're right to do that.” I blinked and looked at her. She was avoiding my eyes but I could still see something in her pained face that had my attention. “The rangers... we need somepony to show us how foolish we are. Everything Dust said is right. We've become no better than raiders.”
Her poor arguments before made sense now. She had lost her faith in her faction, though not her love. “What convinced you to believe that?”
Her answer was quick. “It's classified.” Stubborn mare.
“Secrets never stay buried. Try to bury it, Cashew, and you'll get burned. Just like Equestria.”
It was not an awkward silence. It was a tense, deafening silence that sent echoes into the wasteland.
Footnote: Updated Perk List. Added Perk: Living Anatomy -- You can tell precisely how wounded ponies are. +3 damage versus non-mutated equines.
Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Fallout: Equestria
Echoes
Chapter 6: Botch
Tracking the Rust Rebels was the easiest task I’ve had since I came to the wasteland. Once my eyes adjusted, the path was clear. Pony bandits, it seemed, were so far removed from zebra soldiers that I could see their tracks in the dark.
Both of my companions confirmed that in all likelihood the bandits had already reached their outpost. We would probably reach them in the middle of the night, but Cashew pointed out that their outpost had withstood Steel Ranger attacks. When we found them, resting for the night might be the best option.
I stopped walking when I reached Dust Devil. Cashew was on his other side, and the three of us stared at the dirt. We had followed them southeast, but they had quickly turned east. Dust mentioned avoiding some scrapyard but waved off any questions I had of it. Until now, the tracks had been a bunch of meandering hoof prints that were the very element of carelessness. Here they mashed together in chaos. Something caused the entire group some distress, though there were no signs of struggle or combat.
“What kind of things would spook these ponies?”
Dust just shrugged. “Plenty ‘o things. See if we can find which way they went.”
We split and walked around the edge of the mess. Moments later, Cashew called from the right.
“Here, they went south.”
Dust and I only took a step before we all heard a noise.
Click.
This was not the click of a pipbuck, and I would give up my guns to never hear this click again. To our east was, like every other direction, darkness. I drew out my weapons as quietly as my could, suppressing the light of my magic. I didn’t know just how well they could see in the dark, and I couldn’t ask my companions without letting the creatures hear us. Assuming they could hear. Who knows just what their biology -
Click clickity click.
The tiniest green light appeared, all alone in the black. It moved, bobbing around, clearly on the back of a radscorpion. I wondered, in Twilight’s voice, why in all sense did these things have radios on them? The light didn’t seem too close; maybe this one didn’t know we were here.
Click.
No, not the click of a radscorpion or even the click of a pipbuck. The click of the safety on Dust’s rifle. At least he didn’t swear like I was in my head.
The light faced us and stepped forward, closing half the distance in half a second. I pointed all my weapons, and I could see Dust and Cashew do the same, but then the light stopped cold.
The radio hummed to life, light static fading away to halfway through a gentle Coloratura classic. The light gently swayed with the music.
We all glanced at each other. Cashew spoke. “Is it listening to the music?”
I frowed. “Cover me.”
“Or we could leave well enough alone,” Dust grumbled.
I walked forward anyway. I didn’t get half as far as I thought I would. Bobbing before me was a black carapace, but it was larger than the ones I had seen before. I floated my pistol above it and let the glow around it shine.
My violet glow lit up a monstrous creature. A giant radscorpion, nearly as large as a tank. The stinger, hanging high above the radio, was larger than one of my legs. The carapace was actually the leading edge of one of it’s two great pincers, the smaller one large enough to grasp and probably crush a pony in power armor. If I had ever seen one of these on a battlefield I would have called on my entire team to destroy it with the most destructive spells in our arsenal.
Within pincer’s reach, I found myself at pause. Luckily, the giant radscorpion did not care. It only swayed to the sound of Coloratura. But I knew that song. It was about to end.
Turning to run, I saw my companions in just as much shock as I. While good to see that I wasn’t the only one who had a first this night, I’d rather we all get away alive.
“Run! Follow the tracks. We’ve only got a short time before the music's over.”
We sprinted until the sound of music faded into the night. Cashew and I continued running a while longer, Dust flying low above us. Upon sighting lights in the distance, we finally came to a stop. We were quite relieved to have no signs of being followed by anything, radscorpion or otherwise.
Now we needed to focus on what was ahead of us. I needed some recon. “Dust, what’s up ahead?”
To my surprise, both ponies gave me an odd look. Dust said, “That’s Trottingham. Some of the street lights are still connected to the power grid. Dunno how ya’ll made the spark reactors, but they sure last a long time.”
Again I was caught surprised. The city still had power? If it did, why were only a few street lights all I could see? “How much of the city is still connected?”
Cashew answered. “Less than half. The damage wasn’t universal, though. You just won’t know if a building has power until you enter and try it. This, of course, only refers to the part of the city shielded from the blast.”
“Where did the missile hit?”
Dust flicked a wing as he landed. “You mean the balefire bomb, right? Blew up near the army base, south of Napperly Hill.”
That explained the lack of damage I’d seen around Pony Joes. Any damage north of Napperly Hill, which amounted to almost all of New Trottingham, was limited to after the bombs fell. That meant Old Trottingham was wiped out. Wait; if that were true, then how many ponies survived? It should have been many.
“What happened after the balefire? What happened to all the ponies?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted the answer.
Dust shrugged and shook his head. Cashew sighed before speaking. “The fallout around Trottingham was much more widespread than the direct damage. Old Trottingham was wiped out by the blast and the radiation afterward. North of the hill didn’t get the deadly dose of radiation, but high enough to cause panic. Riots destroyed any building known to have radaway or any other radiation supplies, and those few who managed to get some were saved from the grim fate of everypony else. Have you seen any ghouls yet, Ruby?”
I had. I didn’t want to speak for a moment, though. All those ponies, knowing everything had changed and trying to survive despite it. Meadowsweet, I could only hope, had managed to live and die without giving up her kindness.
“I came out of Stable 45, in Hollow Shades.”
Dust had no reaction, but Cashew shrank slightly. “Was that where you lived before the war?”
“Yes.”
“Everypony there-”
“I know. Was it the same in Trottingham? Nearly everyone who survived was turned into ghouls?”
Cashew lowered her head. “Different, but yes. Practically everypony who was near a balefire bomb and survived became a ghoul.”
I looked at Dust and then at the tracks at our feet. They went into the city. “We still have a trail to follow. Do both of you know where Filly Fairweather park is? I’ve never been there.”
They both nodded. Dust started walking toward the city. “Shouldn’t take us more than an hour to reach it. See that glow, on that building there? That might be it.”
Cashew and I fell into step with him. I said, “How dangerous is the city? Will we run into any other threats?”
Dust chuckled. “All kinds o’ danger. We just have to be cautious, but it’s really no different than in the wastes.”
I thought of how many times I had seen radscorpions so far. I could imagine their scuttling in the wind. “Are they resistant to magic? Radscorpions?” I asked.
“Naw, don't think so. Well, not anymore then bullets, but they're pretty tough 'gainst those.”
Cashew scoffed. “From the basis of magic resembling energy weapons; it’s complicated. The average radscorpion is very resistant to small caliber weapons and, while it's carapace is undamaged, laser fire. Plasma fire, high caliber weapons, and any spell that isn't a variation of the laser spell will penetrate the armor.”
We both looked at her, Dust raising an eyebrow. “Learn all that from ranger school?”
“The key to surviving in the wasteland is understanding the dangers. Radscorpions are tough as nails, quick as lightning, and highly aggressive. The way we’ve seen them around music? They aren't acting right. They're just moping around, not doing anything. Radscorpions are never this docile.”
An interruption appeared. “Red marks on E.F.S. Follow me.” I dashed ahead of Dust, making for the one of the first buildings. It was a two story structure, not a house but a shop of some kind. The E.F.S. indicated targets inside.
I heard Dust say from behind me, “We are avoiding them, right?” Cashew and I did not correct him, but I’m sure he would take our silence for an answer.
The wall we lined up on only had windows near the street. I peeked around one and saw what made the marks. Ghouls. Some even wore long coats and fedoras like my own.
“Dust, when we go in, take the roof. Watch for other threats.”
His head drooped and shook with a huff. Cashew, on the other hoof, readied her shotgun. Kneeling low and using my hoof, I started pushing open the window. It creaked and the glass shattered from cracks I hadn’t seen. Kicking the remains out of the way, I jumped into the window.
I ducked to the side immediately. Raising the shotgun, I put blast after blast at the ghouls to my right. Cashew, from the window, cleared out my left much the same, and after seconds the first floor seemed clear. Red bars remained, and we heard moans and groans from upstairs. I moved along the serving bar to the stairs and waited at the bottom, shotgun ready, for Cashew to catch up to me. She knew enough about fighting to follow me closely, watching the first floor in case we were wrong.
With Cashew at my back, I went up the stair as quickly and quietly as I could. Despite the poor stairs, the little noise I did make was overcome by a shot and a slam from above. Dust’s timing was perfect and all the ghouls who had been running to the stairs down all turned to look at the stairs up. That gave us time to get up far enough for Cashew to get a clear shot as well. We repeated the process from the first floor.
We tried to repeat the process. Two blasts in and the rabid charge managed to accidentally kick a table at us. Despite being a regular old table, it still absorbed a blast from each of us, and the five ghouls remaining managed to close the distance.
I flattened the table on the ground, giving Cashew a clear line to keep firing. The first ghoul managed to get a mouth on my shotgun before I blasted it away, but the corpse still had momentum and barrelled into the gun, pinning it under the dead weight. The next ghoul got my hoof in its jaw, but the flailing forelegs managed a solid hit in my snout, making me see a bit of red. I grabbed his legs with my and twisted and turned, pulling it over me and slamming it into the ground with a nauseating splat. More shotguns blasts gave me the confidence to focus on this one, and I floated it up into perfect bucking height. The entire ghoul flailed while I quickly turned and let out a honest to Applejack applebuck, sending the ghouls out the window into the street below.
Cashew was already checking the ghoul bodies on the floor, apparently making sure none of them were going to get back up. I trotted over to the door to the roof, but it opened just when I reached it. I wasn’t surprised by Dust, but by what he said.
“Steel Rangers outside. I think they saw us before you went-” On cue, a grenade exploded outside. I think it was the ghoul I had kicked outside getting blowed up.
We got low, but Cashew starting back down the stairs. Just before she was out of view, she looked at us, pointed her hoof, then tapped the floor. She wanted us to stay put?
I started to follow but Dust tugged on my tail. “She said stay put, an’ we should. Least till she gives an all clear or something. Steel Rangers don’t always talk before shootin’ other ponies.”
“Do they ignore their E.F.S.?”
“I don’t know much about that, but why don’t you see what color they are on yer fancy E.F.S. 100 caps says it ain’t green.”
If I had taken that bet, I’d be down 100 caps. Three yellow bars were outside, with one green walking up to them. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but after they started talking a fourth yellow bar appeared and joined the others.
The bars turned green.
“I guess we’re safe to leave.” Dust looked confused but followed me anyway, muttering. At the bottom of the stairs I stared out the open front door at four fully armored Steel Rangers, equipped with a wide range of weapons between them. I wanted them with us. Not having to blow up everything myself would make things so much easier.
“-and there they are now. The mare is Ruby Moon and the stallion is Dust Devil.”
One of the rangers locked onto Dust. Her voice was artificially deep. “The Scavenger? Son of a Dashite out of Tower is travelling with a Steel Ranger?”
Yet another thing I didn’t yet know. I need to remember to ask about that before we get to Tower.
Cashew waved it off. “The Tower Witch wants business with Ruby but it doesn’t matter. Right now we’re going after Ironhoof.”
The same ranger from before looked between the three of us quickly while I stepped up to the group. Dust, I noticed, kept back. “Going after Ironhoof? Just the three of you? Am I missing something, Proctor?”
Dust stiffened at the title. I had no idea what their rank structure was, but now I suspected Proctor wasn’t some rank and file everypony.
“No, Paladin. Everything you need to know is right in front of you. Just relay this message to all ranger assets available. Possible attack on Rust Rebels. Aid and assist allied forces in destruction of enemies.”
The paladin stared. She may be sending the message, but there wasn’t a well to tell. She finally said, “What shall we call these allied forces?”
Cashew looked at me. There was something to her eyes. Something between plain sadness and an apology. “Tell Elder Split Pea I found a Battlemage in cold storage.”
Of course. Even she wasn’t confident in the rangers morality and she had just let them know exactly why they might care about me. I didn’t judge her for it. They were her people, after all.
“Elder’s eyes only?” the Paladin asked.
“No,” Cashew said, looking away from me. “Just Stable 26 eyes only.”
I wasn’t sure what the difference was, but it made the paladin hesitate. “Message sent. Do you want our assistance, Proctor?” Yes. Yes we did.
“No,” Cashew said again. “Regroup and prepare for assault on Ironshod. Be ready to move in at a moments notice.”
While I wanted the support, I didn’t know just how fortified Ironshod was. Their concern made me wonder what kind of fight I was about to pick with this Ironhoof stallion. The four rangers turned and trotted off, disappearing down the street to the southeast. I looked at Dust, and he started off to the east.
I stayed close to Cashew. “So what exactly is a Proctor? And a Paladin?”
Cashew almost said something twice before actually getting any words out. “Proctor is a rank for non-combat specialized Steel Rangers. Paladin is for combat.”
“That doesn’t answer my question and you know it.”
She didn’t hesitate so long this time. “Paladin’s are squad leaders, though for us that’s a bit higher than what your used to. We don’t exactly have a lot of rangers.”
“And how high does that make you that they took orders from you?”
Her look wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t nice, either. “Look, I’ll tell you all about my people after we’re not looking for a fight to start.” While I didn’t enjoy letting her push me off, I accepted her point. I only worried that I would always be looking for a fight.
We spent the rest of the trip, all of an hour, talking about the Rust Rebels and why they were able to stand a chance against power armor. At first the rebels were part of some other raider gang called the Herd. Ironhoof found a cache of armor piercing weapons and decided to pick a fight. He wasn’t dumb, though. He waited until the rangers in Ironshod had left a skeleton crew to defend it while they reclaimed Stable 66, west of here. Since then, they called themselves the Rust Rebels and used the rangers own fortifications and their AP weapons to keep it. Other gangs swarm to their success. The only reason they haven’t taken over all of New Trottingham was because they couldn’t get the weapons portion of the factory running. All they can do is make ammo for the guns they already have.
Flickering light dances between the gaps in sheet metal walls ahead. I sent Dust to scout, and he slunk off into the dark, flying off without a sound. Cashew and I made certain a nearby house was clear while we waited for him to return, which didn’t take long at all. After bringing him to the safety of new shelter, he gave us the info.
“Good news an' bad news. The good news is they ain't got any poor victims in there fer us to risk ourselves over. Bad news is this ain't no reckless raider hangout. They built this place to hold up against Steel Rangers.”
“Relax, Dust. This time we can make a plan.”
“Ya' mean like leave yer sword and go 'bout our way?”
“No.”
Filly Fairweather Park was a foals resort. Parents would send their foals here when they went to work and there wasn't any school to occupy them with. It had a small building which had probably been full of toys and things for foals to try earning their cutie marks. There had been a wooden fort with slides and a climbing wall. A chain link fence had surrounded the grounds.
The Rust Rebels had reinforced the fence with barbed wire and metal sheets, haphazardly blocking sight and bullets. Two sturdy looking towers were at opposite corners, both with a mounted minigun and two ponies. The building had been demolished and most of its remains formed the fence or the fort. The fort was now a bunker, with a roof over the ramparts and a narrow gap for guns to shoot out of. More barbed wire hug wildly about the walls, with evidence of missile explosions at the wire. Over the center of the fort was a heavily armored playground roundabout with a heavy minigun mounted on it.
Within the fence but outside the fort was a camp filled with ponies. While I couldn't see into the fort, I could guess that a maximum of forty ponies could be inside, though it was likely lower. Outside the fort, there were at least a hundred ponies. Some looked to be just shy of their cutie marks, but none were truly foals and every pony had a weapon.
My unit could handle such a fortification with hardly a strained breath. By myself, with no medical or defensive support and only a sniper to cover me and a single pony to back me up? Was I really so arrogant?
“Dust, could you spot anything of interest?”
“They got a minefield.” I knew his pegasus eyes were sharp.
“Cashew, thoughts?” Hopefully she knew something of the defences. Her ponies had apparently attacked this place enough.
“Those wires stop missiles too well, and the gun on the roundabout is armor piercing. It can spin around plenty quick, too.”
Dust struggled to grit out his next words. “Any chance yer friends can help?”
Cashew gave a small shake. “With this many ponies inside? We don't have enough rangers for an assault, plain and simple. Even if we wanted to by the time we gathered, Ironhoof will have left. He never stays out of Ironshod for too long.”
I stared at the fort. “What if I walk in and ask for it?”
“You'll be shot at the gate,” was Cashew's quick response.
“Naw, I think he'll talk before shootin’ ya. Whatch'er plan after that point, though?”
“You actually want negotiate with these brigands?”
I gave her a hard look. “Just because they're on your bad side doesn't mean they deserve to be on mine. Maybe I can get my sword back and walk away without anypony dying. Maybe I take Ironshod.” I looked back at the field of armed ponies. “I do need a backup plan in the likely event they decline my request. Something to disrupt them, allow us to take advantage of some chaos.”
“Sure been nice if we could'a sicced that hydra on 'em.”
I flicked my tail at Dust. “A dragon would be even better, but a sniper will have to do. What sniper tactics do you know?”
With raised eyebrows, he shrugged. “Tactics? I just get up high on buildings or the sky and shoot. Well, I don’t exactly do a lot of shootin’. But I’m a good shot, either way.”
I was growing more and more disappointed in Moondancers choice of wasteland guide. I wasn’t sure if he was overly cautious or just cowardly, but the fact that I had to think about it was bad enough. “Alright, I’ve got something for you. When you’ve got a target like this, an established position, there’s something you can do to cause a lot of confusion in the enemy. You take a shot or two, then fly behind cover to another spot. Keep doing that, over and over, making sure they never see you fly between spots. The enemy thinks they’re surrounded by snipers and are too confused and afraid to fight effectively.”
Both ponies had wide eyes. Cashew smiled first and said, “That’s clever. Where’d you learn a pegasus tactic?”
“Shadowbolt snipers.”
Dust frowned at that. “Like Rainbow Dash?”
I shook my head. “No, not her. She wasn’t a sniper type, but she knew the value of snipers and deception. She came up with the tactic, but I don’t think she ever used it herself. Rainbow was more of a close quarters kinda pony.”
“You knew Rainbow Dash?” He seemed stiff. I wondered why.
“Yes. The Shadowbolts and the Battlemages worked together often. Being able to teleport is especially effective in commando style operations, not to mention our other magical advantages, and flight is always good.”
He went stoic. I could have asked why, but I’d let that wait until another time. If I fought these ponies, I wanted the camp to be sound asleep.
When I started walking toward the door Dust cleared his throat, and I looked at him. We both waited for the other to speak, but I won out. Dust finally said, “So, what’re you gonna do? Just waltz in there and demand tribute?”
I smiled, the same sort of smirk I would give my superiors when they would order to me to do silly things like ‘hold the line’ or ‘maintain position’. “Something like that.”
A soft clop sounded from Cashew’s hoof. “What if they say no? Are we going to have another Pony Joes?”
“They’re not some band of murderous raiders, are they? If they’re just bandits then I see some chance for redemption.”
“How far are you willing to go, then? What are you willing to do for what you believe is right? And when someone says you are wrong, what will you do?”
Things were so easy before the war. The world at peace, Princess Celestia guiding Equestria into an ever brighter future. Princess Luna returned to us. I never had to ask myself what was right or wrong. It was natural. Even during the war I didn’t need to ask. The Princesses guided us. Held our hooves in the hardest of times. Now… and now… they’re… What would Princess Celestia do?
Would she execute a raider?
“Cashew, I will do what is necessary to return Equestria to a peaceful and prosperous land worthy of Princess Celestia’s name.”
Her knowing eyes saw past my facade. “What, then, is necessary?”
I didn’t know. I wouldn’t know until the choice was upon me and I would have to decide in a single moment. Pulling on my long coat over my barding, I looked at her before turning to walk out the door.
I didn’t know what was necessary. I only knew that whatever it was, I was willing to do it.
<==M M==>
I had always wondered what kind of emotions the zebra we faced felt after they knew we had entered the battlefield. Sure, I had witnessed their last moments as I ended their lives with varieties of magic, but I was curious about the trepidation they felt when the report crossed their lines.
The Battlemages had arrived.
For the Equestrian forces, there was an unusual feeling. We did not receive the fanfare and admiration that the Shadowbolts enjoyed. Ours was a much more somber emotion. A guilt that spread across our allies as they felt a fraction of the weight upon our souls. Yet, they rejoiced at our arrival. For we never came quietly, and the enemy never forgot us.
The radio squawked, just loud enough to be heard over the wind whipping through the vertibuck. “Operation Beholder is green, zed easy spotted in sector one three alfa. Shadowbolts will provide cover. Battlemages engage.”
The vertibuck pointed down and dropped toward the earth like a meteor. Indigo Flare, Nebula, and I held tight and waited for Flashpoint, the only unicorn staring out from the vehicle, to teleport us into the fray. I felt the vertibuck level off, the familiar lurching of my stomach a casual non event by now. The near constant gunfire was much louder now, and I felt the vertibuck shift and bank randomly. I wasn’t worried, as Indigo Flare was managing the protection of the vertibuck.
“Three, two, one, go!” Flashpoint’s count precipitated the expected teleport, and now stood beside two of my fellow Battlemages amidst the bodies of dead and dying ponies and zebra. Nebula raised a wide shield around the three of us and a trio of very surprised zebra. I drew my sword and approached them, and they, their ammunition clearly expended, raised their empty rifles like clubs. Well, two did. The third, the one who looked the least afraid, only squared up to me and lowered his stance. This one was the target. I adopted my own fencing stance, and the two others spread to surround me.
They burst into flame. A single spell from Indigo split between them melted their bodies so fast that they couldn’t even scream. For the slightest moment the target was distracted by the sudden immolation of his allies. In that slightest moment I unleashed a stunning spell from my horn that would paralyze an elephant.
His body was frozen. Every muscle held tight in that moment before pouncing the victim. I surely would not have won a fight against this zebra, his hoof to my sword. The pony dead that littered the ground around us had been killed by his very hooves. I sheath my sword and walked up to this zebra, looking into his eyes. I knew that he could still see me. I suspected that, could he move his face, he would show me defiance.
I carefully withdrew from my saddlepack a small metal case, and from within it a white memory orb. I laid it upon the ground, for I would not need it yet. First, before I could take what I needed, I would take his defiance. I put my horn to his head and cast the spell.
Sifting through the memories of a creature is a difficult task when they are willing. Their focus must match yours, and you must work together to not be buried in the sheer magnitude of it all. For an unwilling subject, such as this zebra, getting what you wanted could be impossible. An untrained mind could be conquered through persistence of force of will, but the zebra knew the depths of what our magic could do and, fearing the worst of us, prepared. This mind was a fortress.
Everything he believed I valued was hidden behind a wall, rolling and expanding to defy my every attempt to pass. It was true that what I sought hid behind that wall. However, that was not what I was after just yet. To defeat a prepared and determined mind, one that is, in the end, expendable, you must remove that which makes it determined. I searched for things he did not initially protect, things he thought I didn’t care about.
His family. His childhood. His dream to become a carpenter. The tenderness of his first kiss. The happiness when he made his father proud. The pride when he became a father, only weeks before. I found those memories, shattering the weak wall he attempted to shield them with. I ripped those memories from his mind, tearing them free as I disengaged the spell.
Once again in the real world, my horn glowed a bright violet. The vital memories he once possessed now a fragile mote of magic. I let them scatter in the wind before putting my horn to his head once more.
The wall looked the same, but I knew that to be a lie. He knew how to protect himself but he did not remember why. The defiance, the will, it was all gone. I tapped the wall and it collapsed, revealing all of his protected thoughts. I quickly sought for my true target: his memories of martial arts training. This zebra was an expert of a martial art that allowed zebra soldiers to kill our ponies. By taking his knowledge, our own experts could refine our combat training to counter zebra martial arts, allowing our ponies to win battles at every step.
I finished gathering up the memories and, much gentler this time, pulled them free from his mind. Lifting up the memory orb, I carefully passed the memories into the orb, stitching them together to be sorted later. Sealing the protective case and putting it away, I looked back at the face of the zebra.
He did not know how to fight. He did not know why he was in the middle of this war. He only knew there was something no longer there, something terribly important to him, and it had been taken from him unjustly. Tears began to well in his eyes.
I drew my sword and thrust it into his chest. A small mercy. I pulled out a cloth and wiped the sword clean while I walked back to Indigo.
“Is it done?” She asked, as if referring to a casual lunch.
“Yes. Mission complete.” I sheath my sword and discarded the ruined cloth. A blink, and we were once again in the vertibuck, withdrawing from the battle. The other battlemages were casting spells from the vertibuck doors, spending their magic since our job was done, but Onyx Comet paused. He stared at the orb case in my hooves. I suspected he thought his face a hard mask, but I knew better.
Onyx had a family. He knew what I had done, knew that I had been specifically chosen to do it not because I was the most suited. I had been the most willing. The zebra hadn’t taken from him. They had taken from me.
I would do anything to make them pay.
v^V^v
The gate was rather unimposing. It was a chain-link and sheet metal affair, with a bit of barbed wire adding a touch of violence. None of the gore that the raiders had. There wasn’t much for lighting The flickering lights of a few campfires still burning backlit the walls, and it was easy to see the guards in the makeshift tower next to the gate, even if I hadn’t seen a yellow bar on my compass for each of them.
They couldn’t see me, though. I wasn’t even hiding. “Hello,” I said, lighting myself with my horn.
“Who the hell are you?” said one pony.
“Don’t shoot, it’s just some mare,” said another.
More than one weapon was pointed at me. If they fired a shot, I was quite ready to kill them, but I was trying to avoid that. “I’m looking for a job. Are you ponies in need of a Stable-Tec technician?” I waved Jumpshot’s pipbuck at them.
“Technician? Is that like a mechanic?” Seriously?
The guns were put down. “No, a mechanic fixes mechs, a technician fixes tech.”
“I think they fix machinery and electrical equip-”
“Shut up, Lampshade, nopony asked you.”
The gate opened. “Follow Doublebuck. He’ll take you to the master of quarters.”
“You mean quatermast-”
“SHUT UP, LAMPSHADE!”
I resisted the urge to rub my temples. I couldn’t believe these ponies were giving Steel Rangers any kind of issues.
I take that back. Doublebuck was the largest stallion I’d ever seen. He was easily as tall as Princess Celestia, but with a frame like Big Macintosh. I’d wager if he took to his namesake he could send a tank rolling. His color was some shade of green, but I couldn’t make out much in the low light. He only looked at me for a second before walking down a path between the tents.
The interior of the fort did remind me of the most makeshift of camps during the war. Tents and cooking pots were set about haphazardly, nearly every one surrounded by ponies marked with yellow bars. The best spots were those that stayed dry in the rain. There was even a wagon. Doublebuck walked close to the wagon and I saw him sniff the air. I wondered what these ponies were cooking up-
“Is that meat?” That was definitely the smell of cooking meat. I had spent enough time with griffons to know that smell, but I had certainly not seen a griffon in camp yet. Doublebuck heard me and turned to point at the wagon.
“This Pudge’s meatwagon. He has good food.” The extremely simple voice didn’t distract me from my realization.
“Do you ponies eat meat?” The mere thought made my stomach churn.
“Meat is good. Better than radfruit. Not sick from eating.”
I couldn’t stand for this. Ponies weren’t born to eat meat. “You kill other creatures, cut up their bodies, and cook it on a spit so you can eat their flesh!” The ponies sitting around had started to notice my outburst, but I didn’t care.
A new voice came from inside the wagon. “Hey, is that someone there complainin’ about my choice of business?”
I stomped my hoof into the dirt. “Yes, I am. You’re a craven barbarian if you perpetuate the consumption of other creatures, even in the darkest of times. I’ll not stand for it.”
The wagon door opened and another stallion, as large as Doublebuck but with a thick layer of fat making up for the height difference, stepped out in front of me. “I’ll have you know that I giv this lot a good hot meal to fill their bellies when the land around us don’t provide none. What with your attitude, you’d think you thought of us as cannibals or the like.”
“That’s not two steps away from what I think of you. Sacrificing what makes you a pony is what keeps you from becoming monsters. Eating meat is not what we do.”
Another voice from a stallion, this one stern, interrupted us. “Pudge, go back to your wagon. I’ll handle this stable pup.”
He was, again, an earth pony, but unlike most of the rest who wore little, this stallion had an orange vest over his dark blue coat and a naval officer cap. It looked silly, but I don’t think he thought so. Doublebuck, and the other ponies I could see, gave him the space of an authority figure. I wondered if this was Ironhoof.
“Follow me, little unicorn.” I had half a spell to show him how little I was. That was enough for everypony else, though, as they all melted away into their tents. Doublebuck even began meandering back to the gate. I was already decided on what I thought of these ponies, but maybe Ironhoof would at least show me the sword before I tried to reclaim it.
He led me to the fort. Inside were an uncomfortable amount of armed and awake ponies. They weren’t in ambush formation, but had the distinct feeling they weren’t casually laying about. Ironhoof walked right up to a throne like chair and sat upon it. I couldn’t spot my sword, but next to him was a closed hoof locker. The rest of the room was like a cramped frat house. The guards were camped out on three tables covered in trash and food. Between the tables and the throne was a ladder to an upper level, which was a balcony along the wall. The roof was the roundabout, supported by a web of steel girders. There was a small spark generator attached to the shaft of the roundabout.
I stopped looking around when he cleared his throat. “Here I am, sleeping the night away, when some dipshit comes a callin’, crying about some stable filly to fix all our problems. Now that doesn’t sound at all like a pony who’d pick a fight with Pudge, so why don’t you explain yourself.”
I wondered how far I should play the part. “I came out of Stable 45 in Hollow Shades. I heard you were having a problem with the machinery in the Ironshod Armory.”
“A stable? Ponies don’t usually just wonder out and find jobs from a stable.” Though a statement, he was definitely expecting answers.
“I’m the only survivor of Stable 45. I’d rather not go into details, but I am looking for my place in the wasteland. Since my old life is gone, I need to learn about the world and find something new.” Technically, everything I said was true, but I held back the suspicion that nopony here would like me or my opinions.
He just looked at me for a good minute, but the void was filled with the fake commotion of the other ponies in the room. “So what was your old life? Since you want a job here, I’d like to know what sort of talent I would be getting.”
Well, now was the time for the lies. “I was a Stable-Tec maintenance technician.” I shouldn’t have said -Tec. “I specialized in magical machinery.”
“That’s helpful, but it wasn’t what I meant. What was stable life like? And how long ago did you leave the stable? I’ve never heard of 45.”
I had no idea what stable life was like. Well, fire and death, I guess. And starvation. “I left the stable two days ago. Went to Station and heard about your group. Thought I might get a job.”
His frowned. “Let’s go into the details. What happened in your stable?”
I sighed. I didn’t feel like going through with this lie anymore. It hadn’t really been going anywhere, anyway.
I took a step toward him and squared my hoofing, standing straight and looking ever so slightly down my nose at him. He didn’t like that.
I didn’t care. “I apologize, but I lied to you. I was never an employee of Stable-Tec, and I am not a mechanic of any kind. You have something I want. Let’s negotiate.”
He blinked. Twice. I heard, or rather, stopped hearing the fake commotion. “You came here to negotiate for something you want?” Yes, that is what I said. He looked at me expectantly so I rolled my eyes and nodded.
He burst into laughter. This felt rather typical, and it made me want to open fire, but I was trying to give these guys a chance. Maybe they were just acting bad to keep the other bad guys off them?
“Oh, this is good. Haven’t laughed that good in a while. What is it you want, anyway?”
“My sword.”
That cut him short. “A sword? Like, the sword I got in Station? That sword?”
“Is there another sword you own? Is there some confusion on your part? Do you own many swords?”
“Look, lady, watch your mouth.” He stood and pointed a hoof at me. “You don’t walk in here and disrespect me without getting a bullet in the brain. What kind of negotiating is that? Just what were you planning to offer me?”
Your life. Seriously, that was all I had to offer. Oh, and the location of maybe a thousand caps. “I wasn’t, but perhaps you can change my mind. I don’t know a lot about the wasteland. Fill me in.”
“Who the hell are you? I’m not some random pony on the street, here to answer your questions at your convenience.”
I give up. “My name is Ruby Moon. I was a soldier in the war. Give me my sword.”
“The war? What war?”
This was getting tedious. “The war. I’ve killed more zebra than you’ve seen in your entire life. Give me my sword.”
He shook his head and chuckled while stepping to the hoof locker. “You think being in some war that ruined the world entitles you to something?” He opened the locker and pulled out my sword, still in its sheath. “You’re nothing now. Just another pony about to die.”
“Death is my eternity. Give me my sword.” I was practically snarling at him. He really didn’t like that.
“Death is your right now. I’m going to gut you with your own sword.”
I sighed. “Before we do this, I just want to be sure. You do kill random ponies for their stuff, right? Rob ponies? Take slaves, or some other such really bad thing?”
He drew the sword with his hoof while stepping toward me, a want for blood on his face. “Yes. We do all of those things. And we also kill crazy relics from the past.”
That was good. I would have been rather cross if I had picked such a fight with good ponies. He thrust the sword at my chest. It was obvious he had no experience with a hoof held rapier, and his attack was clumsy and slow. I batted my sword aside with the pipbuck.
“Mors Noster Aeternum.” It was the second part of the Battlemage motto, and it was our sad truth. There was never any other destiny once our path had been chosen.
“Wha-” I slammed his face with the pipbuck, then grabbed his head and flipped him to the ground.
Before I could be shot, I teleported up to the balcony. Since I had no grenades, I dropped a fireball into the group of confused guards. It was small and weak, and did little more than distract the majority of them, but I did not want alert the outside just yet. I’d bet they were entertaining the thought of another random pony being shot for amusement.
Ironhoof was running back to his throne. I watched him sheath my sword and stuff it under a strap on his vest. Was I right to kill him? For the Steel Rangers, for the good of the ponies, or for my sword? Did I even care? Nothing existed to tell me I was wrong, at least as far as I knew. Only my own moral standards.
I cast a lightning spell and let fly, but at the very moment of destiny one of the pitiful guards happened to step in the way. Ironhoof stared past the charred corpse as it fell over to see me frowning. I prepared another spell, but he dipped behind his throne and out a hidden door. If only I hadn’t hesitated. This would all have been over and nopony else would have had to die. Well, these ponies weren’t exactly above my law, so maybe that was hopeful thinking.
Ducking low, I ran along the balcony, getting behind what little cover existed. Many small caliber bullets plinked all around me, drowning out all other sound. I created a grey ball with my horn and flicked it into the room below. Upon hitting the ground, the ball burst into smoke, filling the entire first floor in a moment. The incoming fire was replaced by coughing and yelling.
Now that no fire was distracting me, I found and climbed out of the hatch onto the roof. Standing just beside the turret, I searched past the barbed wire into the camp below, searching for Ironhoof. Yells were spreading and everypony was waking up, but I couldn’t pick him out. I trotted onto the armored turret, finding the hatch open and the seat empty. I cast a familiar spell in a different way, and Cashew blinked in right next to me.
“What the crap! Ruby, don’t do that.”
I pointed at the empty turret seat. “I need you to create some chaos.”
Cashew glanced at the seat, me, then the towers. She hopped in and started flicking switches. I ran back to the hatch and climbed down into the fort. The smoke wasn’t clear but it had thinned, and the guards had left. Sliding down the ladder to the first floor, I saw that every yellow bar on my compass was turning red. I didn’t have any idea how I would find him now. Perhaps it was time to retreat-
Crumpled sheet metal flew across the room, skipping and sparking against the throne. In the hole that now existed in the wall, a pony stepped in that had to be Doublebuck, though he was wearing so much random bits of metal debris that I couldn’t be sure. Regardless, the pony saw me and charged. Not wasting any time, I sent him a lightning bolt, hitting him in the chest and sending sparking shocks across his armor, all of which collected at half of a rubber wheel over his hip. Of course.
Hardly tickled by my spell, he barreled into me. I felt not the floor for a long moment and yelped when I smacked the wall. Wavering on my hooves, I barely looked up at the pony before he reached me. The massive pony hardly lifted his hoof to hook it around my neck, and he did a full spin to slam me into the wall again, this time sending me and large bits of metal out of the building.
Riding part of the wall like a sled, I bounced once and hit a tent, the whole cloth structure collapsing around me. I sit still, decided that recovering my focus was more important than untangling from the mess. I took a deep breath and listened to the yells, the hooves clopping, the minigun firing - oh, Cashew had opened fire. A second later I teleported two feet above me. Despite landing gently, I flinched from the general bruise that was my right side. Nothing felt broken, and I hadn’t hit my head or horn, but that felt like all my luck for the night.
I didn’t see Doublebuck. If I saw him again he was getting enough fire to melt through any amount of rubber and steel. The minigun fired again, hitting the tower behind me. I watched the bullets cut through enough of the support that the tower leaned and fell into the camp, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. As my eyes trailed down I saw a stallion staring right at me from near the base of the tower.
It took half a second for Ironhoof to cut and run, but I realized that had been his plan since I had attacked him. All of the surviving guards and a few other ponies were with him, running out of the gap.
Strafing minigun fire shot into the buildings beyond Ironhoof, and I turned to see Doublebuck pushing against the gun, holding the roundabout in place. Cashew turned it back and forth, but the stallion was stronger than the machinery. Abruptly, the roundabout stopped trying to spin, and Doublebuck started walking toward the hatch.
A small shower of sparks flicked off the stallion’s shoulder plate. Was that Dust? I realized I hadn’t gotten a good enough look at his rifle to see what caliber it used. This stallion was more trouble than he was worth, and I cast teleport twice, once for me and once for Cashew.
Blinking onto the roof of a building near where I thought Dust’s shot had come from, I now had a better view of the entire camp. Cashew, swearing at me this time, had taken out both towers and wrecked the gate I had walked in. With that and the damage done to the roundabout turret, I figured the Steel Rangers wouldn’t have any trouble taking this camp out now.
“Dust Devil,” I called out. Thinking more, I couldn’t think of a reason for the Steel Rangers to have a problem taking this place out. Cashew had mentioned numbers, but just how few Steel Rangers were there?
“Dust- Oh, there you are.” When he landed, I saw that his rifle was actually a modified Bloomberg, only 5.56mm and not designed to be a sniper rifle at all. Still, Doublebuck was lucky for it to have not penetrated the scrap metal he was wearing. “Ironhoof ran out the southern wall. This day will be a lot easier if we reach him before he gets to Ironshod.”
Speaking of day, I glanced at the eastern horizon. The overcast sky hid the sunrise, but the morning light was still chasing away the dark of night. An oddity wrinkled my face into a frown, and I turned fully around, inspecting the entire horizon. An overcast sky, as far as I could see from one of the taller buildings in this part of Trottingham. The cloud cover never ended. It had been this way since I had left Stable 45, three days ago.
My eyes settled on the smokestack of the Ironshod Armory. I had so many questions. Maybe when this business with Ironhoof is over, or when I get to Tower. Maybe then I can ask these questions. Perhaps even get some answers. For now, though, the chase was on.
Footnote: Updated S.P.E.C.I.A.L. Perception: 6. Like an alert coyote, you pay close attention to your surroundings, not only identifying threats but understanding them.
Author's Note
Updates might slow while I'm in the process of moving. I appreciate any thoughts on the story so far.
Fallout: Equestria - Echoes
Chapter 7: Diamond in the Rust
Fallout: Equestria
Echoes
Chapter 07: Diamond in the Rust
“Ruby, ghouls right!” Whipping my shotgun that way, I snapped a blast into a pair rushing out of the door, then another into the ghoul stumbling over them. Cashew and I didn’t stop, and we let the rest gather behind us, content to add more to the chase.
Catching up to Ironhoof had been easy. He ran along the streets, straight as an arrow to Ironshod Armory. He and his men also yelled and shot up every building as they passed. Like a stampede, the ghouls poured into the street, forming a herd, with him in the lead and us trailing behind.
Crack, crack, crack! I’d never heard Dust fire his rifle so quickly. He flew overhead, slowing as he reached an intersection nearly a block away, glancing back at us before perching atop an old lamp post leaning against the building next to it. The horde had rounded the corner down the street he was aiming at, mostly ignoring him. I saw a safe opportunity and teleported Cashew and I ninety percent of the way.
Cashew stumbled. “Dammit, warn me first.” I had meant to, of course, but I was falling back to my team’s combat practices. We teleported so much we knew when it was happening.
Slowing until I peeked around the corner, I sped into a canter to follow the horde, now passing into the next intersection. Cashew and I were only a short distance behind them now, close enough that if they stopped and turned on us I’d teleport us away without a word of warning.
Close enough that the minigun fire that started shredding the ghouls nearly hit us by accident.
The unexpected fire threw my focus, and Cashew and I both cut into the building beside us, some sort of office building. Ghouls inside were already running toward the door when we busted though it, and our shotguns fired hot. I had to burn a ghoul with a firebolt while we reloaded, but our breather was short lived. The gunners on the miniguns had noticed our engagement and swiveled to fire into the building. The mostly windowed walls of the first and second floor were shattered by the multitude of rounds, but we hid behind the grand staircase toward the back of the open floor.
“Can’t you blow them up or something?”
I shook my head. “I can’t cast at something I’ve never seen. We need to find a back door-”
Boosh- boosh! Rockets! The building shook when they hit, dust and debris falling from every surface. I couldn’t see where they had hit, like they hadn’t even been aimed at us.
“Ruby, we need-” Yes, yes, I know that. I don’t have time to warn you. Again.
I could see a window across the street, back the way we had came. It would have to do. A blink and we were in the clear, watching the building we had been inside collapse, filling the streets with dust and smoke. Cashew swore and moved to a window to signal Dust.
On the opposing side of a main thoroughfare was the Ironshod Armory, and it was a fortress. I only got a glimpse of the street level defences before they were enveloped by smoke, but they were a wartime style I was familiar with, using concrete barricades for cover and barbed wire out in layers before them, all centered around a single pair of large double doors. Every other entrance on this side was blocked by rubble, and the windows were boarded up as well.
The roof was higher than our position, but I could clearly see three minigun emplacements, one above the door and the other two at each corner of this part of the building. Each gun was well protected by a what was essentially a scrap bunker. Nothing else appeared to be on the roof, but all of those boarded up windows begged for a sniper to be placed inside. I couldn’t see the rocket launchers, so either some of these windows were a facade or they were on the ground outside.
They joined me at the window, and Dust let out a quiet whistle.“Is this the part where yah decide they’re too tough and we go on somewhere else?”
Cashew checked her pipbuck. “Paladin Raspberry Tea will have gathered an assault team by now, and should be on their way. I’ll send them a ping on our location.” Pipbucks were surprisingly secure for civilian tech, so I fully expected the bandits to not have the ability to intercept that message.
“You’re familiar with the interior, correct? Should I expect large production and storage rooms with the occasional office?” I wasn’t very familiar with factories of mundane tech. Hopefully they weren’t too different.
“Yes, that’s right. I don’t imagine the bandits have restructured much.”
The dust had settled, even if the cloud would remain for some time. Those ponies on the ground couldn’t do much more than defend themselves, but those gun emplacements could see as well as I and easily shoot anywhere in front of the building.
“Any idea of how many hostiles inside?” I didn’t know how many ponies I was willing to kill today. Probably too many, but I set that thought aside.
“We believe there are around two hundred in the facility, but that does include those defending outside, and they won’t abandon the other outer defences when we attack this one.” Cashew lowered her pipbuck. “Paladin Tea will arrive in about fifteen minutes.”
That would be fine. “I’m going to take out those heavy guns. After that, I’ll break in through that door and lock it behind me.”
“What ‘bout us?”
“Dust, I want you to hold your fire until I’m inside. Once I’m there hit anypony trying to follow. Cashew, direct your Paladin to follow me in when she arrives. With any luck, most of the Rust Rebels will be outside, far from sensitive machinery, and no longer armed to deal with Steel Rangers.”
He frowned. “Yah mean yer goin’ in there by yerself?”
“Of course.” That was the safest way for these two.
Cashew stomped a hoof. “What am I supposed to do? I’ve told you before, I’m not defenceless.”
You are fragile. “Then go in with your Paladin.”
She harrumphed at me, but I was busy readying a spell and looking at the defences. This had to be hard and fast. Unfortunately for these ponies, that was always how the Battlemages operated. Faster than the Shadowbolts, our commander once boasted. Rainbow Dash begrudgingly agreed. I blinked away from the building and my companions.
“The fuck?” A quick glance over my shoulder, and I picked the pony who had yelled from inside the bunker. My second spell stifled his yell. The ponies around him all cried out against my witchcraft when he transfigured into an apple shaped grenade. My maroon magic held the pin while the grenade fell to the floor.
Gathering another spell, I refocused on the other bunker in front of me. They hadn’t noticed me yet, so they were entirely unprepared for the sudden icy wind slipping in through the windows. The wind coalesced into a small crystal floating in the center. A muffled explosion behind me drew their attention, and they started to make the connection between the glow of my horn and the icy crystal. An instant later, the crystal burst, icy spines piercing through flesh and metal.
I quickly examined the bunker behind me. While the gun appeared still functional, these bandits, or perhaps the Steel Rangers before them, built the turret so it could not attack another. I walked around the structure, thankful for the wall when the sickening squelch of the fragmented grenade returned to his pony form.
The third bunker was well aware of me and some were running out to shoot me. A quick trio of firebolts tore into the two ponies and through the door they shut behind them, my small fireball following closely. The walls shook when it exploded inside, followed by only the sound of quiet burning.
On the roof there were at least three stairwells down and five other turrets, though those guns and ponies were at the far ends of the building. I could see ponies stepping out, concerned about all the the explosions they were hearing. They didn’t matter to me. I went to the closest stairwell and entered the facility.
The stairwell was empty, along with the hallway on the top floor. I saw a window facing further inside the building part of the way into the hall, so I started walking. Drawing the shotgun, I leaned up to the first door and put my ear to it. Nothing. Opening it quickly, there was nothing to shoot. Moving to the next, I didn’t need to lean close to hear the sounds of guns being loaded. I kicked open the door, two blasts making quick work of the bandits inside.
Back in the hall, I knew the rest of the building was aware this was no longer an external attack. The next door opened when I was halfway to it. A earth pony, far too reckless, stepped out, casually looking down the hall at me with his gun hanging from the sling. One blast later, he dropped to the floor, parts of him splattered on his friend behind him. Said friend backed into the room and pulled the door shut, swearing the whole time. Getting a short running start, I blasted the door handle just before I slid hoof first into the door and into the room. He fired first, but at the empty doorway. I fired before he could strafe his gun toward me. Standing to face the last pony inside, he swung an iron pole at the floating shotgun, keeping the barrel pointed away from him. That did nothing to save him from a lightning bolt, and I stepped out of the room, now silent.
I could hear ponies yelling from the stairs, but I still wanted a look out that window. I pulled out the submachine gun and pointed the two weapons either way down the hall while I ran, bypassing a door along the way. Reaching the window, I loaded shotgun shells while observing the factory floor. There were obvious alterations since the war, and hopefully a few more since the Rangers were forced out. There was a large area caged off, filled with ponies of all kinds, and a couple other races, most notably a pair of griffons.
In the center was a raised platform, a large rectangular metal girded floor with an scrap built throne upon which sat a very specific pony, staring right back at me. Around him were four unarmed and unarmored zebra. In the middle of the platform were five of his personal guard from the park, well equipped with rifles and partial combat armor.
The first clear yell drew my attention back down the hall. Short bursts from my submachine gun made the ponies dive for cover, one crossing the hall into another door while the others backed into the stairwell. They blindly fired into the hall and I, without cover, cast a quick small shield around me. The door I had past popped open, and the staccato of fire from another machine gun opened up on me. That had to end, so I sent an indiscriminate fireball through the door, ending the shooting with a blast and tossing the door into the hall. I couldn’t keep casting spells like this.
Feeling more impacts from behind me, I turned and ran toward them, pouring more energy into my shield and blasting away with my shotgun. Two ponies shot from behind different doors, and a third from the stairwell at the end of the hall. Too many ponies, thundering up the stairs. Keeping up the submachine bursts behind me and shotgun blasts down the hall before me, I past the first door and whipped a firebolt inside. The second pony slammed his door shut, so I ignored him, facing the stairs. I barely looked at a new pony and his flamethrower before the roar and the flames washed over me, withering my shield. I ran away, turning both weapons at him, hoping to get the pony with a lucky shot.
My breaths growing heavier, another icy wind spread from my maroon glow, gathering into a crystal before me. This burst was focused and narrow, sailing down the hall, ripping into the ponies that had rushed out. Now out of range of the flamethrower, I spun and cast my own magical equivalent, my flames sweeping into theirs and engulfing the rest of the hall around him. The roiling flames shifted, and I knew the other pony flames had ended, but I was afforded no respite. An explosion knocked me from my hooves, shattering my shield and the window beside me.
Pulling myself up to the window, I saw the pony, standing amidst crystal spikes, reloading his rocket launcher. I couldn’t keep exchanging fire like this. I went in too heavy to handle without a working H.E.R. Glancing down, I saw Ironhoof, sitting in his throne, my sword in his hooves, a smirk on his face.
I pulled the door up off the ground and tossed it out the window, jumping right after. The second rocket exploded behind me, splintering me with shrapnel and littering my fall with debris. In freefall now, obstructed from those below by the door, I had a moment to think. My magic was too low for any more spells. Even strenuous levitation might cause burnout at this point. All I had left were four guns, years of experience, and unresolved revenge.
The door didn’t fool those below. Bullet ripped through, and I opened up with my drawn guns. Gripping the door in magic, I slowed the fall enough to roll with the landing, though I wouldn’t feel good about it tomorrow. Everypony in his guard were between me and Ironhoof and protecting themselves from the debris, giving me a moment to act.
I unloaded the last of the submachine gun on the guard furthest away, the shotgun on the closest, and drew both pistols, running into the group. I let the empty gun fall and jumped onto the nearest living pony, tackling him and stomping his face. Rolling back, I pulled him up between me and his friends. They hesitated, but I did not, putting several pistol round into two of their unprotected faces. The last guard fired, and I could feel several of his rounds pierce his friend and hit my own armor. Pointing the shotgun, a flash of hope crossed his face when the weapon clicked empty. That hope was crushed by pistol fire, dropping the last one dead. I pushed the dying pony off me and stood, surprised to see the three zebra walking at me. They had nothing but wrappings and heavy collars to fight me with.
I killed those five in seconds and they still wanted to fight? Other explosions, muffled by walls, filled the silence of their approach. While I was struck by their devotion, I still raised my pistols at them. I had killed so many zebra in my life, even with the war over, what were three more- Four!
I dropped my stance, feeling something whisk over my head. While the swing missed my head, it knocked one of my pistols out of my grasp, and the return swing hit the other. Ready this time, my empty shotgun caught her third swing. Her form, I recognized it. It was off, though. Perhaps years of apocalypse could do that to a style.
Not wanting them to pick up the dead ponies weapons, I pushed into the zebra. They were odd to me. All female and hardly clothed, they seemed more like a harem than an elite guard, yet here they were, the last line of defence. There was more, though. Like the way they completely ignored the guns on the ground.
Now surrounded, I knew I had made a mistake. Quickly shifting direction, two moved to outflank me, doing so easily. I jabbed the shotgun at the second zebra in front of me, then swung when I missed. She took the hit and caught the gun, tossing it aside. I ducked under the hoof of the first zebra and reached out and kicked her back leg, dropped her to that side. The two behind me moved in, but I threw bodies at them. Just me and the second zebra, we threw a couple hooves at each other and I realized another thing.
These mares were sloppy martial artists. That was what was odd. Every zebra soldier I had fought either stuck to their guns or could snap my neck at the first mistake.
She hit my shoulder once, but I hit her face twice and shoved her to the ground. A pair of hooves grabbed me and lifted, throwing me to the ground. I twisted out, but still hit hard. Rolling to my hooves as quick as I could, I blocked a kick to my face but took a kick to my flank, followed by another to my back knee. Standing back up, the zebra who threw me got a clean hit on my face, letting me taste blood. It didn’t matter that I was better than any one of them. These four, ancestors to those I had killed so recently and so long ago, would kill me. Of course, I wasn’t just going to let them.
I kicked my whole body at the zebra on my left, pushing her off balance. I spun away from her, kicking out my leg to sweep hers. I threw a wild buck at the zebra who kicked my face, missing her but keeping space between us. I stepped into the kick of the zebra that had kicked my behind, still taking the hit but wrapping my hooves around her. Spinning, I threw her at the other zebra. The other zebra had already moved, and was about to buck me, and I was in no position to avoid it.
I jumped up and away, and the zebra buck sent me even further. Landing out from between them, I didn’t have a moment to relish my new bruise and perhaps a broken rib. Feeling plaster debris under my hoof, I swept them at one of the two closest zebra. She blocked it from her eyes, but the action delayed her, and I met the other zebra’s hoofstrike with my own. Stunned, she watched as I hooked her hoof with mine and rolled away, flinging her over me.
Just as my hooves were under me again, another strike caught my shoulder. I reeled and stumbled away, but strike after strike chased me. I backpedaled through several, then bolted forward, shoulder checking one of the three mares in the attack. Completely off guard, she bounced off the platform, but my thigh caught a kick that nearly dropped me. Stepping away and turning to face them, I ducked enough to only get a glancing hit to my forehead. Dazed and stumbling, one of the mares tackled me.
Rolling with the fall let me pull her over so she wasn’t on top of me, and I pushed away before she could get a hold of me. That left me under the other zebra, who was reared up to stomp me with all her might. I managed to wrap one of her hind legs just as she came down, and only one hoof hit my shoulder. Arm numb, I twisted my body and pulled her over me, making her stumble between the tackling mare and I. She didn’t try to hold me, so I rolled away and stood, squaring off against the two of them.
The mare I had flung was behind me, and the mare that had bounced off the platform was at the stair to my right, holding a metal pipe, and tossed another one to the tackling mare. I stared at each of them, getting a good look at the eyes of the zebra who would finally kill me. Finally end it.
“Ruby!” Dust’s twang called from some other world. A glint caught my eye, falling from the air. With my levitation, the only magic I really had left, I caught my sword.
The zebra did not wait, and neither did I. I spun and kicked low at the zebra on the stair, missing but making her pull back her strike. My sword flicked behind me, and a spray of red shot across us, the mare falling with red at her throat. I jumped and kicked down and the other unarmed mare, and she backed out of reach. The tackling mare swung her pipe, but from above me my sword thrust into the path of the swing and past, piercing her chest. I grabbed the blade’s grip in hoof and dashed, drawing the blade from the mare and slicing through the unarmed mare’s neck, and spun again, pointing the blade at the last mare before either one had dropped. She looked between her comrades, uncertain, and I charged, thrusting the blade past her sorry defence, digging deep into her chest and lifting her.
I pulled the blade from her, a flourish and a flick removing much of the blood. Death had come for me, had gotten so close I could see her, but yet again was chased away, taking those I stood against. Someday, I might see her face, when she finally took me, and I might see that it was my own, a mirror in the shroud.
“I’ll kill them all! Let me go or I’ll do it!” I couldn’t remember who was yelling. It wasn’t Onyx or Indigo. Some other stallion. Not Dust either, no twang in the words. I tried to look around, but all was black and white and red. Like it always was. Even so, I stumbled toward the voices.
“Okay, okay, we’ll let y’ go.” That was the twang, that was Dust Devil. I looked up, and saw his browns. Beside him was other brown and blonde and a little green glow. Cashew and her pipbuck.
“Killing them won’t save you, Ironhoof.” The mechanical rasp of a Steel Ranger, but a familiar female one. “You will die regardless.”
“I’m not bluffing!” I could see the pony on the ground, begging and waving around a controller with a red light. “I will kill them.”
“I’m not bluffing, either. You have forever earned the mark of enemy of the Steel Rangers, and we will not let you escape our justice.”
“So ya’ll just let ‘em-” I shot my sword between Dust and Cashew, the last bit of strength I had ending Ironhoof’s life. Almost as quick as the sword, Dust dove at him, grabbing something from his hoof. He did something and the light went out.
“Justice is served,” the Ranger said.
Dust wasn’t looking at me, but at the device. “If I hadn’t been quick enough, Ruby, you would have killed...” When he finally looked at me, I tried to stare back, but the world was swaying and he was fading. Everything started to go sideways and white.
<==M M==>
“I’ll do it,” I said.
Colonel Stonehide, the earth pony and senior officer in the room smiled and rapped the table. I doubted he truly appreciated what he was asking, but Major Borealis, a unicorn like myself, seemed fully aware. Even as he had listened to the Colonel present the idea of a unicorn unit using offensive magic, the Major struggled to appear neutral, to not fidget or shift his papers constantly. Now, his eyes were white saucers, and I could see his mouth ajar.
“Are- are you sure? Absolutely sure?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.” There wasn’t any question. I was committed to doing everything I could in this war, taboo or no.
The Colonel stood, saying “Now where is the next one?” He went out the door with a bounce in his trot.
“What will I do now, sir?” I didn’t exactly know war magic, and I had no idea who could teach me. The only real answer would be Princess Luna herself.
The major never looked away from me. “Go back to the waiting room, please. If the others answer as quickly, we will provide further instructions today. If not, then we’ll send you home and contact you tomorrow.”
“And then, sir?”
He shook his head and straightened his papers. “When Princess Luna authorized the creation of this unit, she emphasized the special training it would receive before it was permitted to enter the war. When that training is finished, you will be among the first Battlemages Equestria has seen in a thousand years. After that, may Celestia’s grace guide your souls.”
“I won’t need it, sir.” I stood and walked to the doorway, but paused. “And she shouldn’t waste the effort on me.”
For three hours, I waited. I had been the first, and during that time, twelve other unicorns had gone into and out of that room. Only four remained after, and the ones who had left had regarded me and the others with disdain before departing. One, a dark coated stallion with brilliant orange hair and appeared to be my age, had gone in twice, once right after me and again after everypony else had gone. The entire time in between he stared at a picture. The only other stallion who stayed was a little younger than me with an indigo coat and a teal and yellow striped mane. He hadn’t spent much more time in the room than I had, and all his time since had been staring at a Talisman Science magazine.
Eldest among us was the only pony I recognized and it was from reputation alone. Sunset Shimmer’s crimson and yellow mane was fading, but her amber coat was as vibrant as I’d ever seen in photos of her. She was rumored to be as talented as Twilight Sparkle herself, and to be put into a room with her because of my own magical talent was inspiring indeed. However, she was the only civilian among us. I knew we were being selected for a military unit of unicorns, so perhaps they wanted her to help train us. After she had left the meeting room, she found an Equestrian Army Today and began reading in earnest.
The final mare was only slight older than me. She had a light purple coat and a purple mane with aquamarine highlights. She didn’t read or talk, only observing the others, much like myself. She was the last pony before the dark one’s second entry, and after he had come out, the two senior officers came out as well.
The colonel was practically bouncing. “Congratulations. You five are going to be the first of your kind in over a thousand years. The major will fill you in on what steps come next.” He quickly left, probably to fill in his superiors with the news.
“The five of you will be transferring to Canterlot by the beginning of next week.” His gaze wandered between us, unwilling to stay on any one of us for any length of time. “There you will be instructed in combat magic by the finest unicorns in the Equestrian Armed Forces and Princess Luna herself.” He nearly choked on the next words he said. “With enough effort, you may become a force so powerful you will change the tide of this war forever.”
He forced himself to focus on Sunset. “Miss Shimmer, since you are not yet in the military I will be guiding you through the process for the rest of the week.” That was surprising. I was going to be training alongside another of my foalhood heroes, the mysterious Sunset Shimmer.
“Ruby Moon, I have an additional task for you.”
“Yes, sir?”
“There was a no show today, a Miss Nebula. I’d like you to stop by her place of work and ask to come in at some point this week. You can find her at Rarity for You .”
“Yes, sir.” Oh, one more? If she said yes, that would bring us to six, just like the Elements of Harmony. Only it would be six unicorns, and our purpose would not be to save Equestria, but to destroy its enemies.
v^V^v
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. The quiet beeping to my left was accompanied by a few thin rays of light into the dark room. Judging by the orange color, it was what little amount of the sunset could reach through the undoubtedly overcast sky. I shifted in the bed, sitting up to look about the room.
Dust Devil was sitting in the corner, sleeping, his gear to one side and mine, including my sword, to the other. Opposite the mostly boarded window was a shut door and a viewing window with a curtain drawn across it. The rest of the room was bare but for a heart rate monitor and a IV stand. Even of the general debris I’d been used to seeing in every building up to now was missing. I tugged the corded sensors off, flicking the power switch before the tone could drone into my ears.
“You’re finally awake.” It wasn’t Dust’s voice, but that of a young mare. I looked around the room again and found it just as empty the first time.
“Either you’re hiding at the foot of my bed or under it. Show yourself.”
A very dirty dark colored hood rose at the foot of the bed. With the room already dark, the hood concealed her face.
“I want to come with you.”
I frowned. “What?”
She walked to my left side, and put a hoof onto mine. “Let me come with you. I can be useful.”
I caught myself staring at the hoof. The hood was part of a short cloak that only reached her knees, and where her legs were bare I saw black and white stripes. Though not the first zebra or filly that I had seen, she was the first of both that I had the chance to speak to.
The war was over, I reminded myself. Everyone had lost.
“Show me your face.” She shook her head, shifting the hood back just enough to reveal her face. She was, indeed, a zebra filly. “Why come with me?”
The look she gave caught me off guard. The tilt of her head, the slightly raised eyebrows; she reminded me of the very worst teachers I’d had.
“Why else?” I wanted to smack that tone right off your face, filly. “You’re the safest place in this world.”
Wait, I’m safe? I picked a fight with a hydra, a raider base, and a bandit gang. Well, she probably didn’t know all that. “What makes you think that?”
“I’ve heard about you. The rangers are all talking about it. How you came from the past and fuck shit up.” Whoa, filly, language! “You killed a hydra like it was nothing, slaughtered raiders and bandits. If you can do all that, then I’m safer by your side than anywhere else.”
“Look, young miss-”
She tapped my pipbuck light off, “I can be useful, I swear. After all, you think they let me in here? Zip it about me, okay?” She ducked out of sight again.
What? This filly was very odd. I hadn't another moment to think before the door opened. Dust roused from the lights being turned on and the heavy hoofsteps of an armored Steel Ranger, without the helmet. The armored mare had a red mane in a bun and beside her was Cashew, looking cleaned up in a vaguely Equestrian army officer uniform, and a elderly stallion in a similar outfit, though of clearly higher rank and with a long coat. His mane was fully grey, and his coat had faded to a olive color. None seemed to show any signs of noticing a filly that didn't belong.
“Ah, awake at last.” The elder was eager, but his voice felt thin. “I was worried you would be out for days and I would have to leave before you woke. Lucky me, it seems. I am Elder Split Pea. This is Star Paladin Raspberry Tea, and you’re familiar with Proctor Cashew.”
Split Pea approached and shook my right hoof, while Raspberry Tea and Cashew held back. Dust, uncommonly still and stiff, stood close to my left. Nopony seemed to notice the zebra who had to be under my bed. Believing that, at a minimum, they would not approve her entrance, she was beginning to impress me. Star Paladin? Either she had been promoted after the battle, or the title was occasionally shortened.
“I would introduce myself, but I’m sure Cashew had told you all about me.” Tea stiffened when I said Cashew’s name, but Split Pea only nodded.
“Yes, she has, but don’t hold that against her. Our dear Cashew wants the very best for our order. Now,” he raised his gaze to Dust, “if I’m correct, you are the famous Scavenger that works for the Tower Witch.”
Dust nodded, though he seemed to be eying the Star Paladin. “It’s my first time meeting a Steel Ranger Elder.”
Split Pea waved a hoof. “Don’t be so worried. If she was more friendly, we could be allies. As it is, though, we have to respond to hostility in kind. Ah, but don’t worry, we have no intentions of harming you. After all, it seems you are accompanying the good Captain here to visit her old friend. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”
Dust eased up at that. I doubted he trusted them, but he knew as well as I that what they wanted was my loyalty. “Elder, what are your intentions?”
“Why, to be your friend, of course. I won’t hide it from you: I think you are one of the most important ponies alive right now. So much has been lost that even technologically inclined ponies such as our good Proctor have difficulty keeping the lights on. I’ve looked up what old pre-war files we have on you, and I’ve seen your qualifications. Not to mention who you know.”
“Who I know? What do you mean?”
He pointed at Dust. “The Tower Witch. She built that tower out of advanced pre-war technology. We want it, of course, but what we want more is her. She could help us learn so much, and she should before she succumbs to the inevitable.”
That was a worrying thought. “You mean turn feral?”
“Yes. She’s being absolutely selfish by not sharing her knowledge with anypony else. Why, with how much she knows, she might be the only pony still alive who understands technology the way she does. All we want is to rebuild Equestria.”
This was not the face of aggression I expected from what Dust had said, nor did it explain the guilt Cashew clearly felt about her faction. Now, however, she was practically beaming. I was clearly missing something, but I didn’t think he would offer it if I asked.
“So you want me to go to Tower and ask Moondancer to be friendly and teach your technicians?”
He nodded with enough bounce that I worried for his old bones. “For the short term, yes. I’d also like for you to join the Steel Rangers. I’d be content to offer you the position of Star Paladin, to which I attest is no small position at all, and-”
“No.” The elder’s mirth dropped to shock, while Raspberry Tea offered wide eyes and a hanging mouth. Dust and even Cashew seemed relieved, letting out bated breaths. I’m also quite sure I heard very muffled sound from somewhere in the room that was not under my bed.
“I am content to be an unofficial associate for now,” I continued, “with the possibility of accepting your offer in the future. I have, however, learned a few things from my travels so far, and they lead me to question the very integrity of your endeavor. I will pass along your offer and request to Moondancer, but I will not label myself a Steel Ranger as of this moment.”
The Star Paladin finally spoke up, and it was definitely the same voice of the paladin we met before, and maybe the one I heard at the end of the battle. That part’s still a bit hazy.
“We are the best chance Equestria’s got. Everypony else is raiding and pillaging, scrounging around for scraps, or fiddling away to themselves. The Steel Rangers are the only ponies trying to rebuild. If you care at all about the Equestria you lived in, you would join us.”
Cashew was solemn, but did nod. The elder had looked at Raspberry Tea, but looked back to me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“If ya’ll were really tryin’ to rebuild, ya wouldn’t go ‘round stealin’ tech from those who earned it. I can tell you from personal experience that Steel Rangers will hold ponies at gunpoint for a working talisman or some such thing. You don’t care ‘bout rebuilding nothin’.”
“So says the Scavenger,” Raspberry said with venom, “who would sell a talisman to any raider with caps.”
Dust Devil practically spit out his response. “I would never work with a raider, and I would never steal a half corrupted water talisman from a village in the sticks surviving on cattails and weeds, but you are definitely guilty of one of those things.”
The Elder raised a hoof, shaking from his old age. “Enough, you two. I know we have a reputation in the wasteland, and I respect your decision. I implore you to reconsider, but I’ll say this before anything else: We want to protect ponies, we really do, but our resources force us to make difficult decisions.”
Resources. That was the thing, wasn’t it. What had started the war so very long ago was what drove everypony to madness still to this day. That wasn’t enough, though. What I really needed was more information. I could ask, but between Dust and Raspberry, I expected that I would hear two sides to every story, both sides as heroic and tragic as the other. I needed a convenient third party.
“Hey, filly. What do you think?” Everypony blinked at me.
Dust raised a hoof to touch my head, “Did yah hit your head a little hard, there?” I brushed away his hoof.
“Reveal yourself and I promise you can come with me at least until Tower.”
A ceiling tile above me slid open, and the filly dropped down on the empty part of the bed. Dust and Split Pea both took a step back, and Raspberry Tea dropped to a combat stance.
“Intrud-”
“She’s with me! She’s fine.”
Raspberry paused long enough for Split Pea to straighten himself and nod.
Looking her in the eyes, I said, “Why don’t you tell everypony your name and your completely honest opinion of the Steel Rangers. I promise you have my protection.”
I thought I was ready. Thought I had heard foul language during the war. I was not prepared for this. Luckily for me, everypony else was far less prepared for the flurry of colorful insults the filly spewed at the top of her lungs. Raspberry Tea tried to get in a word, but that only caused her shrill to raise an octave. I almost called her out when she used Princess Celestia’s name in such an explicit manner that a navy barracks would have shriveled in shame, but I was suddenly wary when a pair of armed and armored rangers appeared at the door, investigating the disturbance.
I said, sharp enough to cut steel, “You didn’t tell us your name.”
She stopped cold, turning to face me with such a look that I felt my sharpness melt away.
“Zujine.”
Raspberry Tea was fuming. “Oh, quiet now, you little shit? How did you get in here?”
Zujine took in a deep breath and I quickly said, “Keep it conversational this time.” She paused with her mouth wide, snapping it shut at me.
“Fine. All of you idiots have way too much trust in your stupid pipbucks and your dumb magic armor. I could wear a fluffy pink hat with a bell on it and still sneak past those dumbs you call guards.”
That made the Star Paladin’s eye twitch. “You’re telling me you just walked in past the guards? All the way to this room?”
“Look, I’m not a liar. I came in right behind the time traveler. All those robots, making a fuss, not even noticing the filly slipping in between their hooves.” She mimicked the action with her hooves, giggling a bit. I couldn’t help but smile at the juxtaposition of her size and her language.
“Wait, you came in with the medical team? I escorted them myself, you weren’t there.”
Zujine shrugged, “Yeah, you’re just as dumb as the other robots.”
“Steel Rangers are not dumb robots!” Tea stomped her hoof, sending a heavy vibration through the floor and cracking the floor.
The Elder raised a hoof, “Stop arguing like a filly, Star Paladin.”
“Yeah, I’m the filly. I don’t even know how you ponies won the war with your stupid armor. Oh, wait, you didn’t. You lost it like everybody else.”
I held my smile, unsure of what to do. I had agonized over that very thought, but hearing a filly like Zujine say it like that, well, it was eye opening.
Dust’s twang instantly drew Zujine’s gaze. “You sure you wanna say something like that? She was in the war, y’know.” He gestured to me with a hoof.
She followed the hoof and looked right into my eyes. “Thanks for the hellhole. When are we leaving?”
Ha. I felt an energy spread out into my face. It should have been more familiar, but as my smile spread and the chortle began, I started shaking uncontrollably, struggling to breathe. I couldn’t open my eyes. I laughed until I cried, and I could hear the filly laughing with me. It was just… Wiping the moisture from my eyes, I took a deep breath. Slowly letting the air out, I opened my eyes to the nervous room around me. Cashew and Dust had never seen me laugh before, and now that I thought about it, I was laughing about the end of the world. Whatever this filly was, I think I needed her.
“Yes, Elder, I think-” The last bit of laughter squeezed out of me. It wasn’t something I was used to. “I think I would like to get on my way. Was there anything else you’d like to discuss?”
He shook his head at the filly, now curled up on the bed, squirming with giggles. “I would like to send an escort with you.”
Assaulting a fortified position? Sure. Travelling in hostile territory? No. “I hardly need a Steel Ranger to slow me down.”
The filly squealed, “Oh shit, she said your dumb robots are slow!”
While amusing, I didn’t feel like her expositions punctuating every statement I made. “Zujine, please keeps your comments to a minimum.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She went quiet and still with a quickness that was unnerving. The Steel Rangers all stared at her.
The elder returned his eyes to me. “Thank you, Captain. What I meant was that I wanted to give you an assistant for interacting with us in the future. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we maintain a high level of operational security, and while you consider yourself an ‘unofficial associate’ you’ll understand if I’m unwilling to give you the means to access our communications.”
Perfectly reasonable, though I didn’t even know what other enemies they had. “I understand.”
“To that end, I would like it if you would continue to allow Proctor Cashew,” the good Proctor’s eyes widened, “to travel with and assist you. She is familiar with all of our operations and I’m sure she can supplement any technological troubles you may come across.”
Cashew stared at the Elder until he finished, then moved her eyes to me. I’m surprised the Elder sprang this on her.
“I won’t object if she agrees.”
The Elder turned to Cashew, and she snapped to a neutral expression. “What say you, Proctor Cashew?”
“I am proud to serve the Ministry.” Wait, did they really consider themselves the M.W.T.?
The Elder turned back to me, a beaming smile on his wrinkled muzzle. “It is settled then. You are free to leave at your leisure. I look forward to our next meeting, Captain. I hope you will have reconsidered before then.” He bowed his head to me, then walked out of the room, Raspberry Tea at his side.
Zujine glanced at Cashew and Dust. “So this is our troupe? Somehow you managed to get a unicorn, a earth pony, a pegasus, and a zebra in one group? Are you some kind’ve equal rights freepony? What’s next, a griffon? A dragon? Oh, I hope it’s a hellhound!”
Now that the Elder and Star Paladin had left, Dust shifted his weight and fiddled with his sling. He also stared at Zujine. I started climbing out of the bed while he started talking.
“Ah’m not ‘gainst her joining us, but Ah’d like to know more about this filly. How you knew she was here and where she came from in the first place.”
Zujine answered quickly, “You ponies don’t even know the slaves you freed? Of course, forgive me for being beneath your attention.”
Dust quit his fiddling. “I was a bit preoccupied with makin’ sure miss fireball over here didn’t bleed out, being my job to deliver her an’ all.”
“Oh, and you thought the best way to help her was to throw a sword at her?”
Glancing between myself and the filly, Dust squared up, face to face with Zujine, who was still standing on the bed.
“Ah knew she could use it, and I thought it would make’em back off enough fer me to get a clear shot.”
Though I was putting on my barding, I noticed now that her hood had slid back, revealing her black and white mane tied into tight buns from her forehead straight down her head and back, making her appear larger than she actually was. While under that cloak, I couldn’t be sure of her age, or anything, really.
She put a hoof on the railing at the foot of the bed, raising her head higher than Dust's. “So you weren’t expecting her to cut through his zebra harem like bullets through a pony? You should have seen her entrance! Burst out of the upper levels in an explosion, and by the time we opened our eyes again she had slaughtered his fuckin’ guard! And nopony, No Pony, has ever gone hoof to hoof with the harem like that.”
His harem? Those four zebras were Ironhoof’s harem? I didn’t see any other zebra in that cage, so I couldn’t be sure, but-
“Hey, Ruby, that’s your name, right? What’s that badass emblem on you barding? Is that a unicorn skull?” She had rushed up to me and was poking at my breastplate.
“Yes. I was part of a unit called the Battlemages. We were an all unicorn-”
“What this phrase mean? Mors noster aeternum?” Zujine said. Well, she tried to say.
“Death is our eternity.” I had never said it so evenly. It was normally a somber thing.
She slowly looked up at me with wonder. “Badass. Let’s get out of this dump. Where are we going?”
Tower. It wasn’t far. In fact, it was closer than Station. On top of that, the territory we would be traveling through was considered safe. Shortly after the Sheppony Crossing, we’d be on Sheppony Island, though staying at the northern tip and not venturing to the majority of the island. Halfway across the tip, Steel Ranger territory would end and Mustang would begin. Cross the Lady Day Bridge, stay along the coast another couple miles, and we’d be at Tower.
There was something in the way. Not a threat, per se, but a curiosity. On the way, in the upper-class housing around the Summer Palace that the bridge was named for, was the residence of Onyx Comet. I doubted very much that I would discover why he felt as he did, but perhaps I might learn something. What he had said, it couldn’t have been, yet I trusted him. I needed an answer.
Footnote: Updated Perk List. Added Perk: Tag! Melee Weapons -- You didn’t complain to your mother when she made you take fencing lessons. Back then it was all family duty and tradition. Now? It’s all about death, and who meets her first.
