Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Fallout Equestria: Desperados

How times have changed, Part 1

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"On our travels, we stopped by a large, if mostly intact ruin called a Supermarket which had the name Barnyard Bargains proudly displayed above it.

Slowtrot told me that Barnyard Bargains had started out as a small franchise in and around Ponyville before the war. It dealt mostly with groceries. They rapidly expanded during the Great War through the signing of exclusive deals with farms and then buying up of military contracts for the production of rations for the troops. They used their new wealth to open up new stores and push out competition all over Equestria. There was no pony that hadn't shopped at Barnyard Bargains.

He also told me that they were also among the first companies to start replacing their employees with robots. Slowtrot even reminisces about having walked into a store late at night in one only to find that he was the only living creature there. To him, the robots were regrettably helpful." ~ Azure Dice

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Hardballer held one of the bullets in between his claws. He closely inspected it with a discerning eye before putting it in an old cracked bowl full of other bullets. “And you're sure their all properly pressed, Slowtrot?”

I nodded as I explained, “There were a few mistakes here and there, but my pipbuck has a sorting spell that separated the ones with gunpowder from those that don’t.”

The griffon picked up a clipboard with a sheet of paper on it as he began scribbling down with a pencil.

“I might just buy that pipbuck off you with how useful it is,” he said with a huff.

“Not sure you have the caps to afford it. This was a personal gift, after all. it even has my cutie-mark on it,” I said as I rubbed a bit of grease off from the pipbuck with my jacket sleeve.

Hardballer put the clipboard down and got up from his chair. “Well, I can't pay you until the NCR gets their rifles, so let's have a drink. You seem to need one.”

I looked away. I breathed in through my teeth at the sound of more booze as my head still hurt a little from last night. “I’m not sure. Drinking with the boss was not really a thing ponies did in my time.”

“Nonsense.” The old grumpy griffon said gruffly as he waved me off and pulled out a bottle and two small clean glasses. “Anyways, if I watch my son work on the smuggler by myself, I’m just going to drive him up the wall if I don’t have another creature to talk to.”

“You could leave him alone,” I pointed out.

“And let that idiot get lost in his project without any commentary criticism? Never.” He passed me the bottle then trotted off.

I followed. Through the courtyard, we entered the garage. There Longslide’s head was buried in the compacted auto wagon. Parts were scattered all over the place. Also in the room was Gyrojet holding her youngest as she sat in a rocking chair.

Trotting over to the griffon female, Hardballer gave her a warm smile, “So how's my son doing?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to think he sees the Smuggler as his new child and I’m about ready to hit him with a wrench.”

Hardballer cleared his throat. “I still remember when it was the other way around, when it was you who could not get away from tinkering.”

Gyrojet huffed. “Hard to work on anything when I’ve been pregnant for the last few years. I’m hoping once our fourth is born, he will still be too busy with that vehicle and give me a break.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you could just stop having kids for a few years,” Hardballer said with a sigh.

The female griffin blushed. “But why would I want to stop?”

Hardballer face clawed. “I miss the old you sometimes.”

“The old me would not be giving you your fourth grandchild,” Gyrojet pointed out as she nuzzled her youngest.

He shrugged. “Just don’t go overboard. I love my grandchildren, but I love them having a mother even more.”

The old giffin trotted back over to me. He continued to carry the bottle with him. Eventually he sat down on the floor.

“Longslide is a lucky giffin.” I remarked as he poured me a drink.

Hardballer nodded. “That he is, even though I’m still pissed he took my number one apprentice from me. I thought she’d spend her days in a worksop until she was old and gray like me. Now she spends most of her time caring for her children. Not that I’m complaining, but none of my other apprentices have shown the same motivation for work as she once had.”

I took a sip of the drink. I found it far stronger than I’m used to. “Wow! What is this?”

“Griffonstone style Gin,” Hardballer answered. “I got a little distillery here in the compound.”

I took another sip. I found it a bit easier the second time. “Not to be rude, but you don’t seem like you’re the ’sit-down and drink with random ponies’ kind of griffon.”

He poured himself a glass and took a sip. “No,” he agreed. “No, I am not.”

A long sigh came from the old griffon as he held up his glass and looked into it. “Maybe… ya, that’s it. I just want your opinion. As a pony from the far past and dealing with a changed world, you must know how it feels.” He lowered his glass and took a long look at it. “Unlike every creature here, you are not all hung up on Redeye or the Lightbringer.”

I nodded. “Ya. It’s all still strange to me. From what everypony has been telling me, it feels like it’s just some local legend rather than some Equestria saving hero. Actually, I keep forgetting that I’m still in Equestria, but then something will happen or I see something. When I do, it feels like a slap in the face. The truth is, I really do realize this is Equestria, or at least it was.”

Lightly swirling the glass, I breathed in the vapors through my nose. “But I think I’ve come to accept it... well mostly. Some pony trying to go back in time is what caused this whole mess for me in the first place, and… if I did go back, only baelfire awaits me. No way around it.”

A sigh came from Hardballer. "The world keeps changing. Every creature has to change with it. That’s what my brother said when we joined Redeye.”

“The villain everypony keeps mentioning?” I asked.

“Yes, the Great Slave Lord Redeye. He built his own army on words alone. With that army, he took a city and became the villain every creature now despises,” Hardballer answered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why would the Gunrunners join a slaver?”

He looked off at nothing in particular as if he was seeing something that was not actually there. “If you were around fifteen or twenty years ago, you would be surprised how common slavery was in Equestria. Not sure why it was that way, but slaver camps were common because of how lucrative the slave market was. There was even ponies who would sell themselves into slavery just to not starve.”

Hardballer sipped his drink again before continuing. “The difference was that Redeye was far better at it then any pony had ever seen. Something about how he went about organizing things and how he spoke to every creature. I never understood the use of all the unnecessary terminology. To me, a slave was always a worker, just under a strict contract that they had no control over. Still, he was able to take the city of Fillydelphia and then began to change the wasteland.”

“That doesn't sound like a good change. Slavery and all that, I mean.” I elaborated.

He shrugged. “Not good for the slave, no,” Hardballer agreed. “Fillydelphia was quite literally an irritated shithole, but one that had an intact factory district. As a result, mercenaries and slaves were sent in to rebuild the factories. Both were dying from the monsters and radiation that hunted the city, though the slaves did die much faster. The more of the city Red Eye rebuilt, the more wealth he obtained, and closer he got to actually restarting civilization in Equestria. Yes, many would suffer, but the result would have Equestria back on the path to recovery, or so he promised.”

Hardballer cracked a smile. “The New Canterlot Republic can spout how the Stable Dweller is the one who founded their nation, but everything they have, the core of their power, it all came from the work of Red Eye. All the Stable Dweller actually accomplished was to steal all he had made and gave it to a new warlord. Not saying her victory was not well earned. She did kick the Enclave’s flank and kill the Goddess. It’s just that the foundation of her accomplishments stand on what Red Eye started.”

This time I sighed. “Sounds a lot like the promise the Ministries made to win the war, to change how things were done so to bring back the Equestria of old. In the end, it was only a new coat of paint over the problem, except the war, and everything else, just got bigger in scope.”

“And let me guess; no pony had any better solutions?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I understood what the anti-war ponies were getting at, but even I thought disarming would not have ended well.”

“There's an old griffon saying: Once both hold the other’s tail, only the sword or starvation will separate them,” Harballer quoted before he sipped his glass. “Basically, once bullets start flying, the situation will not end until one side is dead or no longer has the resources to continue.”

I nodded. “Ya. Even if Equestria did disarm, there would be ponies who would have still kept the fight on. Who knows what the Zebras would have done? There was too much hatred for it to just stop.

“Seeing how things turned out, how everything is different, I’m surprised with how quickly I’m getting used to it all,” I added.

“It’s how things are in the wasteland. First the rise of Redeye had changed Equestria, then it was the Stable Dweller, and now the NCR are changing things, if much slower than the last two. I’ve clearly lived through it all and just adapted accordingly. Those who couldn't adapt either turn into a recluse, die, or go raider,” he explained.

Taking another sip, I thought about what he was saying. “Must be hard having nothing stay the same. Well, I guess nothing stays the same forever.”

Hardballer looked over at the Smuggler for a moment, then sighed. “Sorry. I was rambling there. I just want to know how much is different because before, during, and after Redeye, it all just felt that things never really did change, even when everything had.”

Now I was starting to understand. “Well, before there was no wasteland, so that's a big change, but the ponies themselves ... no, they're still the same. Good ponies, bad ponies, those in the middle, even some great evil waiting in the shadows to do who knows what. Maybe that’s why things haven't felt like they changed.”

He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Redeye was not the first charismatic leader, he was just better at it than others. The Stable Sweller was not the first hero, she was just more determined and lucky.” Hardballer then finished off his glass and poured himself some more gin. “That's likely why Ashy has such a bug up her flank. Everything has changed, yet all the same ponies are around. I’ve seen a few, though they deny it, but if slavery ever did come back, they would quickly become the new batch of slavers.”

“Like who? The mayor?” I checked.

Hardballer shook his head. “That fat pony is a politician down to his bones, not that I doubt he would legalize slavery if the public opinion was for it, but he wouldn’t become a slaver. Same for Ashy. She is who she is.”

I rubbed my black eye. “Maybe, but she really doesn't need to be a bitch about it.”

Hardballer laughed. “Too true, and frankly I think she just needs to take some time off. Get away from everything, even if it’s for a moment. The mare has a right to be angry and I don’t blame her for hating me, but that hate ... it’s like a poison I know too well.”

Finishing off my glass, I put it down and sighed. “It doesn't help when most of the ponies around her seem to feed that hatred.”

“Talking about the deputies?” Star Charter spoke up from behind us. With her were three kids; Bridget and two small griffins. They all galloped over to Hardballer. Both Bridget and the small griffon filly gave him a hug.

I nodded. “I don’t know why, but they have some sort of hangup about the Desperados. When I tried to talk to the Sheriff, they just kept changing the subject to them. Willow tried to help, but Ashy was more sold on the Desperados being the problem, and not Blue Skies.”

Both Star and Hardballer raised an eyebrow.

“Long story short, Blue Skies is selling cut chems to the downtown ponies, and the sheriff doesn't care,” I explained.

Star trotted over. She looked at the bottle of gin with a glint of hunger in her eyes before looking away. “Ya, I heard that they were selling cheap chems. I guess cutting them would help lower the price. Still, not really our problem.”

“How is it… maybe you're right. I’m just an outsider, after all.” I don’t know why, but I just felt defeated on the topic. If nopony was going to even care, then why bother?

Well, at least Jali was trying to do something, but she was just one zebra.

She huffed, looking a bit annoyed. “That’s true. You are an outsider. It’s not your problem. Where I’m from, doing anything to mess with a ship’s order is likely to get an outsider killed. Then again, doing just about anything is likely to get an outsider killed. At least here you have the option to leave, though that’s no guarantee life will be any better.”

Star looked over at the Smuggler then gave it a whistle. “That’s looking better.”

I nodded again. The offer Quicktrot gave me bounced around in my head. “Say, Star, what would you do if somepony gave you an offer to leave? Like, if you were guaranteed a new start, but you just have to leave everything behind and ignore a wrong that you know was happening?”

She froze. Her eyes shifted around. One of her hooves started tapping for a moment. “I… can’t really say… I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like bad ponies are anything new, so why not just let them be and start that new life?”

Quicktrots words echoed in my head again, about her learning that it is better to give troublesome ponies what they want so that they leave her alone. It could also go the same way for me as well; just moving on and finding a place far from trouble.

“Well, that makes sense,” I said with an unsure tone.

A long sigh came from Hardballer. “That is true, until it’s not.”

The two of us looked over at him as the old griffon took another sip. “Out of all the praise I give to Red Eye for actually having a plan to make things better, there was one, no, two things that he messed up on. One being that he kept the Fillydelphia slaver lords around, and the second was that he could never leave things well enough alone.”

Hardballer gently pushed his granddaughters away, over to Gyrojet. When the two fillies were far enough away, he faced hardened into a sturn scowl. “Back during Redeyes rule, we had that attitude towards the slavers of Fillydelphia; Gunrunners, Talons, and the mercenary pony clans. Red Eye let the slaver run all the manual work as we focused on keeping the raider hordes out and the slaves in. It was, at first, a good setup. We didn’t have to deal with the slavers, and the slaver didn’t bother us.”

A chuckle came from Star. “Oh... that never lasts.”

He nodded. “No, it didn’t. Before long, the slavers were monopolizing Red Eye’s attention by trying to convince him to give them more power as time went on. As you see, our side work with contracts and our contract with Red Eye was Ironclad, or so we thought. None of us felt a need to get into the political struggles of the city, not with that bitch Stern as Red Eye’s second in command.”

“I’m guessing this Stern was a mercenary as well,” I suspected.

The griffin huffed. “A Talon, and a good one at that, but it turns out she had a lot more in common with the slavers in personality than as a Talon. It wasn't until the pony mercenary clans stopped renewing their contracts that we started to understand how much we had lost power within Red Eye’s army. Most of the Talons stuck around. Mainly they were banking on Stern taking over and reaping the benefits of being loyal to her. As for the Gunrunners, we had our own factory now, so there was no way we were going back to small hidden workshops out in the wasteland.”

He shot his glass of gin down and scowled. “Well, that’s when the Fillidelphia slave powered engine really started moving. We went from having quality slaves to having a mass quantity of disposable slaves. Methods of control became more brutal. The slavers became drunk on their own power. Of course, all using Gunrunner made weapons to help them maintain that power.”

Hardballer put his glass down, pausing for a long moment. “I still remember what my late wife would say. She’d say that there was no way the slavers would let Red Eye’s vision of the future come true and that they would rather burn everything to the ground than give up their power. She was right, and we just let it happen.”

Finishing up my glass of gin, Hardballer poured me and himself another.

I added, “I think I can understand. I knew a lot of ponies that regretted being for the war early on. A lot of them were parents that had lost their children who had fought in the war. There were some who’s businesses had been crushed for the sake of the war machine. I had also met a few soldiers who, for the lack of a better word, had become less of a pony than they had before fighting in the war.”

“You know that you two are making me thirsty, right?” Star complained in a huff before asking, “So ... what about Red Eye not leaving things alone?”

Hardballer shook the bottle of gin to tease Star before answering, “Yes, about that; Red Eye’s reach didn’t just stay around the Fillydelphia region, he made sure to extend his hooves as far as possible. He did it mainly to obtain more cheap slaves to feed the industrial machine that is Fillydelphia. Famously the watertalasmen New Appolusa uses came from Red Eye's stable, as a donation. They just had to look the other way as slaves passed through this town as the deal. There’s also that most cybernetics you might see out in the wasteland comes from his stable, or at least the knowledge on how to make them.”

“Like with Percussion Cap?” Star spoke up.

He shrugged with uncertainty. “I’m not informed on the details on where she got those legs, or how, but she did tell me that she got them when under the employ of one of the slaver lords. It’s safe to assume the pony who made them got their knowledge from what was given out by Red Eye.

“Knowledge and talismans aside, the real issue was Red Eye’s need for slaves.” Hardballer continued. “With the wealth that came from the factories, Red Eye practically gave the slave markets an influx of caps and a demand for more slaves. Instead of taking things slow and finding quality slaves to clear out the city, which mind you would not need the scouring of Equestria to find, he let the city become a meat grinder. Within a few years, there was no place in Equestria not touched by Red Eye.”

He again sipped on his gin, savoring the taste. “There were some raider clans that were more receptive to Red Eye’s message. It was not unheard of that they would target his rivals, or those who tried to rally against him. Those raiders would also be surprisingly well-armed and stocked with ammo. It’s probably why the Celestial Angels are the only large anti-slavery group to still exist, since they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut and stick to the shadows.”

“But what about ponies who didn’t speak out against him?” I asked.

“Well, if you weren't an easy target to be enslaved, the demand for tribute was not unheard of. Most small settlements in Red Eye’s reach that didn’t have strong defenses were either forced to pay what they could, or went underground so as to avoid retribution,” Hardballer explained, then chuckled. “I think that might be what caught the Enclave off guard when they finally came down to fight. They likely didn’t know that there was a shit ton of armed ponies hidden from sight. Once they poked that blote spright nest, they found themselves utterly outgunned.”

“Aye, it was strange how many settlements were harder to find the further east Prism and I went, “Star commented. “There were a few times we trotted right into a settlement without even seeing it.”

Hardballer nodded. “Red Eye was so keen on every creature being involved in his grand vision that there were only two options; you willingly work with him, or you were forced to work for him. It was not a matter of if, but when Red Eye’s troops would come knocking.”

I sipped on my gin. I took more into my mouth than before. I let it burn my tongue before swallowing. “So, even if I do leave things be and move on… there's no guarantee it would leave me be.”

“That's why you buy the best gun you can get and plenty of ammo,” Longslide said as he trotted over. He scooped up his son who tried to squirm out of his talons.

“Too true,” Hardballer agreed. “I have a nephew who didn’t join the rest of us in Fillydelphia. He traveled around in order to make guns and ammo for the wastelanders who were in hiding. He now lives in the NCR with his own gun store.” Hardballer offered Longslide the bottle of Gin. The younger griffon produced a small metal cup to take the alcohol. “Red Eye had turned the wasteland against him. It was only a matter of time before they came for him. The Stable Dweller just got there first.”

“Oh, so you're talking about Red Eye.” Longslid realized with a huff as he sipped his gin. “I’m glad I was a bit too old for all the propaganda he shoved into his school. Skipper, on the other claw, drank all that down. He actually cried when he learned about Red Eye’s death.”

A groan came from Hardballer. “Let's not talk about my other stupid son.”

Longslide rolled his eyes. “Well, I can tell you about how the Smugglers are coming,” Longslide offered as a potential change of subject.

Hardballer waved his son off dismissively. “Who wants to hear about your toy?”

The younger Gunrunner face clawed “Why do you have to be like that dad?”

I finished off my second glass of gin then trotted over to the Smuggler. It was now a bit bigger and looked far more sturdy than before. “So I’m guessing the new engine lets you do more with the Smuggler?” I asked.

“That you are correct!” Longslied practically chirped. “Before I had to cut down on a lot of the materials to keep the thing light, but with the tractor engine, that’s no longer a problem. I still can’t just slap heavy armor onto it as it will reduce it’s driving speed, but I can at least give it some protection now. I’m thinking of adding a gun rail for the passenger seats and attaching a fold-out workbench on the back. Maybe a booster to the engine and a large caliber rifle for the gunner nest. When I’m done, this thing will be death on wheels.”

A loud huff came from Hardballer. “Doubt that. The gunner nest is already far beyond what a Smuggler would normally have. All the ones in our record books were made for speed and rough terrain, not for fighting a war.”

Longslied sighed as he trotted over to the Smuggler. Along the way, he let his son on top of it.

“Right,” Longslide agreed. “Having it stay in a fight would only risk it getting destroyed. Still, I like the idea of it being able to fight back.” He looked over at me. “Say, Slowtrot, do you know anything about military vehicles?”

I shrugged. “Just what I saw in movies.”

“And?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow to prompt me for more information.

I thought about it for a long moment, but nothing like this vehicle came to mind other than whenever the military would show off their armored divisions to the public. In movies, if it wasn’t a tank, it was either a simple motor wagon or a motorcycle. As for the few light vehicles I saw in parades, they were mostly used for security. They drove all over the place, but not much more.

Wait, there was one movie!

“Right! Daring Do and The Curse of the Clover’s Box. In the movie, Daring Do and her friend, that looked oddly like Ministry Mare Rainbow Dash, were in a vehicle like this in a getaway scene. In it, they had to get away from the Zebra army. The vehicle proved as maneuverable as what the zebras had, but more importantly was its gun turret that kept the zebras from getting too close.”

Longslide nodded. “Right, that does sound like the original concept for this Smuggler. I’ll have to think about it more.”

I shrugged as I looked at the sleek autowagon. The thing looked like it could drive over a mountain if it wanted to. Something like this would be perfect for just getting away and leaving any problem as far behind me as possible, then keep going.

Taking a step back, I had time to think. Even if I did take Quicktrot up on her offer, nothing was stopping her from mailing me a bomb. As for New Appaloosa, there was little I can do, but that didn’t mean I could do something to help the ponies here, even if it was just to help Jali at the free clinic.

“Excuse me, boss!” one of the gunrunners spoke up. His head poked through the door into the garage. “We got some customers waiting to drop off their guns.”

Hardballer huffed in annoyance. “At this hour? Didn't we shut down the front desk?”

The griffon shrugged. “They didn’t seem to care. They also wanted to see Slowtrot, too.”

I now cocked an eyebrow. “Why me?” I openly asked.

Longslide trotted over to the door. “I’ll take care of it, dad,” he said to Hardballer before waving at me to follow. “Let's go see who wants to talk with you, Slowtrot.”

It was not like I had anything much better to do, so I followed Longside out.

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-Reputation-

-Gunrunners-

You’ve been helpful with doing the work none of the griffins want to do.