Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Fallout Equestria: Desperados

N.C.R.C.F. , Part 2

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"Slowtrot told me about the biggest instigator for a lot of accusations over being spies that happen in old Equestria. With the Ministry of Moral, also called the Pinks, as he described them, was to make sure ponies were happy. Any pony who was very much not happy would be taken away to get help.

A lot of the ponies who returned from being taken by the Pinks were fine, having just needed some help or a pony to talk to. Slowtrot also said that, every now and then, one of them would come back odd, as though something about them was missing. Even though it was rare, the fear of coming back off was thick and made ponies paranoid about the Pinks.

Slowtrot explained that there were many times where he kept his head down as some ponies pointed others out to the Pinks, hoping he would not be next. The silver bullet, as some called it, was to accuse a pony of spying for the Zebras. Sometimes it was because they were not acting normal. Other times it was because they had slighted the accuser. To him, as he explained, it was just how things were." ~ Azure Dice

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I had to admit that, though this plan didn’t fill me with the confidence that Harp was trying to portray, it was also clear that we didn’t have the options or time to just wait and hope for an opportunity to present itself.

From what we knew, Harp had two timberwolves circling around her, each wanting to use her for their own ends. Maybe she would be safe with Quicktrot, but she may also become her new host, doomed to suffer from soul rot. With Victoria and the OIA, it was no different, with her either being kept as a political bride or a literal sacrifice.

Star’s option didn’t seem too great either considering this Purity Spiral sounding like a nutcase with too much power. I could imagine she would be kept as some trophy at best.

I would likely be left here to be forgotten. Quicktrot could easily pay somebody off to keep me here, probably using the caps she was going to use to send me away originally. Thinking about it, it would not be hard for her to just pay somepony to kill me while I'm here.

Having both little time or options were right.

Agreeing with the plan, well what little plan we had at the moment, we moved to the other side of the mess hall, far from Cattle Prod. We were not going to rely on him, but we were also not going to get on his bad side either.

Tire Fire sat a small distance away. He didn’t have a pipbuck, so Harp felt that it would help if he stayed out of Spritz Cookie’s sight. His job was to watch as an outsider and make his own connections.

With the plan in mind, we quickly went to observe the prisoners as they arrived.

What we saw looked like some unrailed train had arrived inside the prison. The prison itself seemingly has one side reconstructed to let this thing in and out without risk to security, thus allowing the NCR guards to be all over the place while separated from the prisoners. The unrailed train itself was pulled by a large bulldozer covered in what looked like thick armored plates. This made the thing look more like a tank than a piece of heavy duty construction equipment. Pulling this was several stripped down motor wagon frames, each packed with prisoners, all chained together and to the frame.

Unlocking the prisoners from the motor waggon frames, I counted ten prisoners to each chain gang, five to each side of the motor wagon frame. There were six frames being pulled, thus three hundred prisoners were marched into the courtyard. It was almost an even split between stallions and mares. Not just ponies were here either. Among them, I could see several zebras, a few goats, two deers, and a yak.

“I don’t see any pegasus or griffins,” I commented.

“They can fly, so they're likely kept somewhere they can be more easily contained,” Star figured.

“Makes sense,” I replied.

Scanning the prisoners with my eyes, I couldn’t tell which pony would be Spritz Cookie. So many of them looked rough around the edges and dangerous. There were a lot of scars on them. The more tough looking seems like they had a close encounter with a meat grinder. All of them looked dusty and very much worn down, likely from the long day of labor, which also made them look similar in coat color from all the dust on them.

From a balcony, the Warden trotted out, flanked by two NCR troopers armed with service rifles that had longer barrels and scopes. Pulling out a megaphone, Warden Dynamite spoke. His voice was filled with disdain and authority. “Looks like you worthies trash have finished your required day of labor, and with no fighting this time. It seems that the virtues of a good citizen are finally being beaten into you. Maybe, after a year of this, I might consider you all something close to a real pony.”

A loud snort came from the prisoners, causing several of them to move away from the pony who made the noise. It was a larger earth pony mare who was completely covered in scars and tattoos that resembled military symbols from my time. If she was from back then, she would be seen as a Ministry of Wartime Technology fanatic. Even her cutie mark resembled this, an apple grenade over a gear.

“Already asking for another beating, Spritz Cookie?” The Warden called out to her.

The mare, Spritz Cookie, spoke with a loud and commanding voice. So much so that we could hear her clearly from where we were. “I KNOW YOU JACK OFF TO IT AT NIGHT, SO WHY NOT COME DOWN HERE AND DO IT YOURSELF? TRUST ME, IT’S SO MUCH MORE TRILLING WHEN YOU BEAT PONIES WITH YOUR OWN HOOVES.”

A snarl formed of the Warden's face. “All but Spritz is relieved to go eat. She gets five lashes for insubordination.”

All the prisoners but Spritz began to trot to the mess hall. Several of the guards trotted back in, looking down at us from the catwalk. “You four, the new inmates! Grab a seat. Each row will be called on to get their meal once all of you trash has been seated.”

We did as we were told, sticking to the current plan.

As the prisoners funneled in, we made sure our pipbucks were visible, getting a lot of murmurs from the other inmates as they eyed us with curiosity. They also gave us a wide berth, causing our row to fill in slower than the others.

With a loud thump, the Yak I saw in the chain gang plopped down on the other side of the table from us. The male yak spoke in a jovial tone. His yak accent was heavy. “Ah, new friends. What are you in here for?”

The three of us looked at each other a bit confused by this big, hairy, and oddly friendly yak.

Star answered him. “We were framed because the sheriff in our town is a cunt.”

He laughed jovaly. “Oh, is that so? I can relate!”

I raised an eyebrow. “How?”

He banged his hoof on the table. It flexed under his strength. “Back home, the prince had too much pride for his lack of experience. Needs smash more, wash less. When Yak tried to show him, he had Yak exiled. Yaks all knew he was being fool, so told Yak to smash elsewhere for a year, let Prince wise up before returning.”

Right. Yaks love to break things all the time. It’s why the ponies at home didn’t like them all that much.

“So why are you in here?” Harp asked.

Again the Yak laughed. “Yak likes to smash. Tries to show ponies the joy of smashing. Ponies got mad, now Yak here.”

I face hoofed. “Yaks... Yaks never change.”

“Not true!” the Yak spoke up with pride. “Yaks current king brings back the joy of the smash. Before Yak’s smashed to take, to show anger Yak’s had. Now we smash to show Yak’s joy. Yak’s smash old things so Yak’s can make new things.”

We all looked at each other a bit confused.

The Yak again laughed loudly. “You ponies always have hard time understanding Yak’s. Always cling to old things that don’t matter, where we Yaks smash them, then make things that do matter.” He banged his hoof on the table again, causing all of us, and other prisoners, to bounce. “Yak tried to show ponies, but ponies don’t understand. Want old things that don’t matter, not build new things that do matter.”

I sighed and muttered. “Like holding onto the war even after we no longer had a reason to fight.”

Then I felt two large hooves lift me up. “Yes! Yes! Pony gets it! Smash old hatred, then build new. It may be new hatred, it may not, but it is new.”

His hold on me made me feel like a ragdoll. I was unable to do anything in his grip. “Uhh, please put me down.”

The Yak froze for a moment before letting me go, causing me to fall back onto my seat.

“Yak sorry. Yak got overjoyed that pony understood,” he said as the Yak sat back down.

Harp scratched her chin for a moment, then a small smile formed on her face before she asked, “Say, Mister Yak, what’s your name?”

“Amralt,” the large Yak said with a smile. “It means recreation. Mother always said I like to remake things that I smashed, and it’s true.”

“I see. Well, I hope we become good friends,” Harp said before sighing. “We could really do with rebuilding after what we just went through.”

Amralt again laughed. “Like old grandpa yak always tells Yak; as long yak is alive, yak can keep building and smashing. It’s not like anything is made to last forever. All things fall apart in time. But, if Yak smashes it first, then Yak chooses how it falls. Makes it fall in a way no Yak is hurt. Smashed pieces can be easily reused for things Yak needs.”

I raised my hoof up to ask a question. “But why not make things that last forever? Wouldn't that be better? I mean Celestia ruled for over a thousand years.”

Amralt smuggly huffed. “Princess pony has not ruled for over two hundred years. It was stripe ponies who smashed Equestria, not Equestria smashing itself. Equestria is smashed in way it not be easily remade.”

I lowered my hoof. Feeling I just got intellectually outmaneuvered by a Yak that only cares about breaking and building things… no, wait… I actually just did.

Our conversation died down a little as more and more of the prisoners filed in and a clear gap between us and them had formed. I was sure that they were deliberately making space for us to avoid causing a scene, unlike the Yak. This is something that I never heard about with prisons, though I didn’t know all that much in the first place.

It just felt too… organized.

Then she finally showed up, Spritz Cookie. She was sporting several fresh and deep cuts on her, but didn’t show any sign of pain on her face. Eying the mess hall, her gaze fell on the spot where we were and she grimaced.

Trotting over to us, it grew more obvious how big she was. She was like a large stallion kind of big. It made her even more intimidating. The mare herself, other than her size, scars, and tattoos, was a very plain mare with a light tan coat, short brown mane, and amber eyes. Unfortunately, that didn’t make her any less frightening with the scowl she looked down at us with.

“Oy Savages, get the fuck out of my spot!” she said in a menacingly husky voice.

We all then instantly looked over at Cattle Prod, knowing he intentionally left that peace of information out.

Star then rolled her eyes before looking up at Spritz. “And what the fuck are you going to do about it… Bitch?”

The large mare sat down next to Star, a smile on her face. “Oh, what’s your name, sugar?”

“Sta-” As Star began to talk, Spritz back hoofed her, knocking Star out of her seat.

We watched in stunned silence as everypony just ignored what had just happened.

Spritz Cookie looked at Harp and I, then said. “Any questions?”

We both got up and Spritze took over the spot where we were.

Helping Star get up, a small bit of blood dripped from her nose, but she quickly shook it off and took a seat next to Spritz.

“You hit like a damn hellhound.” Star said as she smiled. Her blood covered her teeth.

Spritze grunted, seemingly in approval. “Cunt, your skull seems to be as thick as one.”

She looked down at our pipbucks. “And you three seem to have something ponies like you shouldn’t have.”

I grew a bit more nervous, knowing that the crux of the plan was about to come into motion.

Harp paused for a moment, looking down at her pipbuck. Her eyes scanned it as she was in deep thought about the words she chose to say.

When she spoke, she sounded even more like she came straight out of Canterlot. “That... depends on what kind of ponies you think we are. You called us savages, but I can say the same thing about you, with how you're covered in tribal markings and the like.”

She lifted up her pipbuck a little so that Spritz could get a bit better look at it. “Do the likes of you even know what this is?”

Spritz huffed in annoyance. “It’s a fucking pipbuck. I bet you don’t even know half the things that can… wait… somthings off with that one.” She peered at each of ours with curious eyes. “None of those are pipbuck 3000’s, are they?”

Resting her hoof down on the table, Harp took a deep breath. “Star here has a 3100 overmare pipbuck. It has administrative authority over the Stable-Teh network, meaning it can open any stable door and has access to all encoded information still hidden by Stable-Tec. Slowtrot here has the Pipbuck 3200, a search and rescue pipbuck with a built in medical scanning spell and onboard virtual intelligent assistant.” She tapped her own pipbuck. “Mine here is the Orthrus spell assist pipbuck that has an advanced VI assistant and can have a spell talisman holo tape inserted into it to give me access to a magic spell.”

Harp waited for Spritz to process the information. The large mare’s face slowly scrunched into a frown. Harp continued. “As far as I know, all three pipbucks are one of a kind out in this dreadful wasteland which makes them all more powerful than any pipbuck you have seen, I bet. Now Order explain a bit more about yourself.”

Her pipbuck lit up and beeps before a polite sound robot voice spoke from it. “This platform is a modified standard issue Orthrus Pipbuck made for madam Harp. Givin the feature of integrating with a recon drone to act as Lady Harps protector in case she is ever without a guard herself. This platform can do several features to assist Lady Harp, up to including recording any information relevant to madam Harps safety.”

“That's enough, Order,” Harp said while patting her pipbuck as though it was a pet. “I hope this shows that we, or at least I, am far from a savage.”

Spritzes face relaxed as she leaned an elbow on the table. “Alright. You got something else nopony has. Does not mean ponies like you are worthy of it.”

“Well that can all be true, yes,” Harp strangely agreed as she subtly looked over at one of the NCR guards that were keeping a close watch on us. “But you can imagine that they would not be thrilled with us keeping the pipbucks. Now imagine what will happen if they find out that it’s more advanced than any pipbucks they already have taken.”

This time Spritzes face scrunched up into a snarl. “Ya! Those fuckers would love to get their filthy hooves on what they should never touch.” She then smiled, the tension on her face again relaxed. “I see, I see. We can talk later. It's time we eat.”

Nothing else was said after that, but it seemed that Harp managed to get a message across. I would need to ask later, but I could only guess it involved Spritz hating the NCR, and they possibly getting our pipbucks. Not sure what was going on in either of their minds, but if it got us out of here, then I was all for it.

Still, Spritz came off as a dangerous pony to me. Not like the Desperadoes who had a more wild and free feeling to them. Spritz felt more… oppressive.

The time to eat came. The row we were at got to line up first. Spritz Cookie was the first in that line. The food we got was served on a metal tray that acted as the plate which separated the portions into four parts. One small round part in the upper left held a bottle of water. Next to it, on the upper right, was a long thin rectangle with some sort of processed food bar. On the bottom left was a larger round part filled in with a kind of gruel. Last, and what took up much of the tray was a larger square that had a yellow loaf of bread on it.

As we sat down, no pony ate until every pony was finished gathering their food and had sat down, including the row on the other side of the table. After that, the line ponies began breaking off a piece of their food bar and sent it down the line of prisoners, passing us, and being given to Spritz. Seeing all this, and not being idiots, we did the same.

There was a moment of pause as nopony ate. We all sat in silence as we watched Spritz. She took her own food bar and threw it in her mouth, chewing for what felt like a hole minute before swallowing. Only then did everypony start eating.

To say the food was bland would be giving it too much credit. The food bar tasted a bit off. Not a rotten kind of off, but as though made of something I would normally never eat. The grual seems undercooked, and the bread was too hard for what turned out to be cornbread. I watched as the other prisoners broke the bread to scoop up the gruel. This helped us figure out the best way to eat the slop we got. It only made it more bearable to eat, not taste better.

At least the water was mostly clean. It had a slight metallic taste to it that concerned me.

I got a good glance of Cattle Prod as he trotted to his seat. The ponies in that row seemed to have slightly better looking food. Not sure what it was. It just seemed to have a bit more color to it.

“The snitch will get his,” Spritz muttered as she chowed down on one of her extra food bar pieces.

I didn’t need to be told any more about that situation. Even in my time, there were poies like Prod who sold out the others around them for brownie points with the boss. I saw it time and time again, even to the point that some ponies spied on others just so they can call them out to the boss. Whenever they got the authority they so wanted, no matter how small that authority was, they would go on a power trip like nothing else.

Harp was right. Cattle Prod would sell us out as soon as it benefited him. Some things never changed.

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Some of the other inmates slowly filtered out of the mess hall as they finished their dinner. Others stayed at the tables talking. We all had free roaming time after our meal, though most of the prisoners were clearly too exhausted to do much of anything but lie down. It was a depressing sight. Harp used the time to look around a little.

When the free time was over, a loud whistle was blown, causing all the inmates to gather together in the courtyard. Filing out row by row, we were then separated by gender. The guards went down the line to make sure every creature was accounted for. Once they were done, they would signal to the NCR guards above that all was accounted for.

With the whole prison population here and lined up, I could tell there were around over four hundred of us here. Maybe five hundred. The NCR guards, on the other hoof, may be numbered around just one hundred. Most stayed up high above us and away from the prisoners.

From a podium above, the Wardin trotted out. Clearly he had just eaten something far better than what we had. He smoked another cigar. With the sun setting behind him, he looked all black like a shadow. Only his cigar lit up his face. His eyes were hidden behight mirrored sunglasses, of which reflected the red light of his cigar tip back at us. What stood above us didn’t look like a pony. It was more like some creature that had escaped from Tartarus. Even more likely was something that guarded the prisoners of Tartarus itself.

With his megaphone position for him, he spoke with vosterus authority. “Once more you all have been so Generously given food and drink by the Kindness of the New Canterlot Republic’s Citizens, all so that you can learn to show Honesty and Loyalty to your fellow ponies. So before you all turn in for the night, I want to hear you all be filled with Laughter and show me that you all are on the road to be reformed. Now show me the Magic!”

I was confused at this speech, mainly because of what he was demanding… Then some of the prisoners began to laugh.

Just hearing it had me do the same like in involeter composition.

It was a laugh I knew too well. Far too well. Whenever a pony felt that they were being watched by the Ministry of Moral, they would do this laugh at every joke. Every slight thing that made them feel any emotion, all to hide their discomfort and fear. Even I had done this laugh so many times back during the war that it was natural. But now that I was doing it again, and on demand. It made me feel sick.

Laughing like this just enforced the idea of how much had not truly changed at all.

I felt a heavy hoof slap my side as a jovle deep laugh bellowed next to me. It was Amralt who seemed to be enjoying himself somehow. Actually his own laughter put my own nerves at ease. I began to laugh as though this whole situation was too ridiculous to take seriously. All my fear, stress, and anger melted away in that short moment. It ended by a yell from the warden.

“SILENCE!” Warden Dynamight called out. All the prisoners quickly quieted down. All except for Amralt and I. We had to actually wind down as laughing like this could not simply be stopped so fast.

Then I noted that the Warden was eyeing me with disgust. I don’t know why, but I felt as though I offended him by not stopping right when he told us to. It was annoying and stupid, so I gave the Wardin a big smile.

Warden Dynamight squinted at me for a second before talking again on the megaphon. “Now then, as you go to sleep, do remember that generous republic has given you a second chance. Anywhere else would have had you all executed, putting you all out of our misery. But, because the ponies at the top want to Do Better, you all are here to become better. So you better start trying to be more than the trash you all are. As good as all the money that is being wasted on you all.”

With that, the Warden left. The NCR guards began to herd us off to our barracks. The Stallions and mares were separated. Each of us were kept on either side of the prison as we were taken to our cells.

There was little organization once we were inside the cell chambers since the prisoners picked and chose where they were going to stay. With how it was set up, each cell contained two bunk bed cots. The cell itself looked like it should have only fit two ponies comfortably. Also, inside, there was a bucket in a corner and that was it.

I ended up bunking with Amralt who quickly took the top bunk. That threatened to break under the large Yak. I was going to take one of the other two cots in the cell, but they were quickly snatched up by two other prisoners. Both looked rough around the edges and thin, giving off a sense of danger, but not like the other ponies here.

With a sigh, I sat on the cot under Amralt. I was careful to not hit my head on the bump he made above me.

“ALL LOCKED UP!” an NCR guard called out. After that, every cell closed all at once. The guards began making their way out as they turned out most of the lights.

It was not complete darkness, but doing anything in it was going to be impossible.

Sighing, I just layed down. I was again unsure what was coming next.

“Oy, new blood?” one of the other ponies in the cell called out to me. A spark of magic lit up. A weak ball of light formed on the tip of the horn of the pony on the top bunk. “What are ya in here for?”

Looking up at the unicorn, he had a real shifty look on his face. It was as though he wanted something, but I didn’t know what.

Not seeing a reason to not answer, I said, “False charges of being a raider. That's what.”

The bottom bunk pony chuckled. “Ya. Sure. And I didn’t burglarize that rich pony’s house at all or rob a caravan at gunpoint.”

The top bunk pony grunted. “Fuck off. Pilfer. Ain’t no pony cares about your opinion.”

“My opinion.” Pilfer sarcastically said. “Said the pony who posed as an NCR soldier so as to steal their guns and ammo, then tried to sell it all back to them. At least I know to find a fence first, Filch.”

Great! I was in a cell with two thieves. At least they were not violent criminals, or worse.

“Trust me, I haven't committed any crimes as I’m aware of,” I tried to explain, but when they both laughed at me. I gave up. “Alright. If selling guns to a clan of gangers is a crime, that's what I was doing.”

“Ohhhh… sucks to be you, then.” Filch said in an amused tone. “Got a cousin that was executed for just being near a ganger operation. Ya, she was getting paid by them to watch the trade routes and such, but she was not a gangger herself. Didn’t stop the locals from stringing her up, though.”

Pilfer then added, “I still remember when the NCR went from sanctioning a ganger group one day to coming down on them like a pack of timber wolves the next. Almost got caught up in that mess.”

“Wait, why?” I asked.

Pilfer quietly laughed. “Why? Because they can. The NCR is the biggest gangger group on the east coast. What they say goes. If a group of gangers are sitting on some old world tech, the NCR does not need to ask for it. They can just take it.”

“And it’s not like anypony will care,” Filch said in an amused tone. “Most of those gangers act like their the queen bitch of their pile of shit, treating every pony else like shit too. So, when the NCR kicks them off their mound, it’s more just desserts than anything. So ya, you’re fucked, as all of us are. As soon as anypony hears ganger affiliation, they stop caring about who you are and what will happen to you.”

This didn’t paint a pretty picture for me. I was going to need to talk with Tire Fire the next time we have a chance. But, while I was here, maybe I could get some more information.

“About the gangers, what do you know about the Desperadoes?” I asked.

Pilfer and Filch both then went “Ohhh” which did not fill me with confidence on any good news.

Pilfer explained, “So that's who ya got involved with, the route 50 assholes up north. Ya, from what we know, the NCR is only playing nice with them because they're too busy fighting some raider tribes down south and they need access to the route 50 trade road. If ya got caught with them doing anything the law doesn't like, ya is fucked. The NCR is not going to give you any special treatment.”

A huff came from Filch. “Not like they weren't asking for it. My family got stuck up with ‘em when Redeye was still dicking around. Always demanding tribute and bossing us around. Oh we should be glad we're under their protection and shit. The Desperados were not better than any ganger’s out there. They just had more hooves and guns. If the NCR knocks them over, I say good riddance.”

“So you like the NCR?” I asked.

They both sucked in the air with their teeth.

Also not liking the sound of that, I changed the topic. “Nevermind. Can you tell me anything about Spritz Cookie?”

They both went silent.

Pilfer then quietly whispered to me, “Trust me, the less said, the better. Just do what she says and don’t make a scene. The only reason Cattle Prod is one of the top dogs is because he dosent work the chain gang, so she can't simply off him like the others.”

“Others?” I again asked.

Filch confirms by saying, “Ya. We have a few other ponies who were the bosses of their own click here in the NCRCF you see. Well they didn’t like Spritz, and she didn’t like them. Well one day in the quarry, somehow a stick of dynamite had somehow found its way on the cliff side of the quarry, right in a crack. The thing blew over the bosses when they were having a chat. Likely they were talking about Spritz when it engulfed them in a cloud of dust. When the dust cleared, two had their heads caved in by limestone. The other had a pick axe through her skull. The fucking NCR said they had a fight and killed eachother. Now only Spritz and Prod are running this shit show.”

“Now don’t tell nopony I said this.” Pilfer again whispered. “But I think the guards here are scared of Spritz. Like real scared. It doesn't help with how thin the guards have gotten.”

That last part caught my attention “Thin?”

“Ya. Thin as in less guards keeping order.” Pilfer explained. “Remember we mentioned the raiders down south? Well supposedly it’s gotten worse. Not sure why, but it’s like the raiders there have been getting more guns and crazy ponies keep joining them. The NCR has been taking troops from all over to help protect the settlements down south. Been pissing off the wardin, as it’s making it harder to keep an eye on all of us.”

“Interesting. Is their-” I began to ask, but Amralt began snoring loudly, like sawing wood he was. Several groans could be heard from the other cells and Filch put out his light. I knew that the day was over and I needed to try and sleep.

More and more I didn’t like the idea of working with Spritz, but I also didn’t see any other way to get out of here. All I could do was count myself lucky that I was in a cell with two petty thieves and a big friendly Yak.

I hope my Luck does not run out any time soon.

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-Reputation-

-Spritz’s Convicts-

Slowtrot, Star, and Harp have caught the attention of Spritz Cookie and will hold off from making any moves on them until she decides what to do about the three ponies with pipbucks.