Fallout Equestria: Desperados

Fallout Equestria: Desperados

N.C.R.C.F. , Part 3

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"Probing further, Slowtrot told me about a time where an argument had occurred between his neighbors. The next day one of them was gone. It was clear that one neighbor had called the pinks on the other to get rid of them, but he did not say anything about it.

Once a pony has the label of spy or mental illness, there was nothing to save them from the Pinks. One can only hope they could return normal.

Hearing all this, it was clear that old Equestria had fallen into some secret police state where the populace both feared authority and each other. I could only imagine what kind of individuals would have risen to power during that time, but I suspected it was the kind of pony who enjoyed filling others with fear. Having seen it a few times in my travels, where somebody with too much power and time used it to abuse those under their thumb. It was their favorite thing to do; turning the population against themselves.

I don’t know much about the leadership of Equestria, other than they being some heroes of friendship magic, but clearly the ponies who filled the management roles of the Ministry's abused what power they had to make things go so wrong." ~ Azure Dice

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Morning came. If the light didn’t stir anypony, the loud buzzer did. Everypony lied up in front of our cells as the NCR guards trotted passed to check on us. There was a commotion further down in one of the cells as the guards rushed over, manually opening it up. Three ponies were marched out at gunpoint. Two looked frightened and the other looked at peace with blood on his hooves.

Many prisoners began cheering loudly as the fourth pony was dragged out. His face utterly caved in. His blood left a line behind the corps.

It just reminded me of where I was and what kind of ponies I was dealing with.

“Tough brake,” Filch said matter-of-factly.

“Still a bit much. It’s not like he was forcing himself on mares,” Pilfer commented.

I raised an eyebrow. “He was what now?”

Filch huffed. “Cobble, the dead one, was part of a small bandit group that got paid protection caps. The norm. When some settlements could not pay in caps or goods, they would pay in flesh. Cobble prefered payment in flesh you see.”

“Ya, ya, whats wrong with a little prostitution as pay?” Pilfer grumbled.

A jab came from Filch to his friend's side. “The problem was that he likes them young. Too young. Anyways, why the fuck you defending him for? The asshat was a snitch through and through. Sold out his gang just to not get the noose they all got.”

Pilfer sighed. “Ya you’re right. Cobble did give the rest of us a bad name. Fuck that pony.”

“Amralt feels no sorrow for that pony. Yaks no forgive those who harm the young,” Amralt said in a stern tone.

Pilfer and Filch together said “Here, Here.”

Watching it, it was clear that there were some lines that even these criminals saw as too far. Unfortunately that didn’t help me much, as I knew I was still fair game for whatever happens.

Soon after all the cell doors opened up and we all filed out. Greeting us was the three prisoners who were removed from the cell being savagely beat. It all went on longer than I was comfortable with. When it was finally over, the larger stallion, who had blood on his hooves, was thrown into some hole in the ground. A cage door over it got locked shut.

Warden Dynamite trotted out onto his podium. His megaphon was at the ready. “Another glorious day, isn't it? Blue skies that go on forever. Well you all should remember that it’s the NCR who gave you those blue skies. Appreciate this grand charity offered to even trash like you.”

His eyes panned down to the two beaten prisoners. “But it seems there are those who still can’t control themselves. Who can’t learn to be civilized the easy way. Maybe they should go without food today to remind them why we are so generous and kind.”

Dynamite paused to look over the rest of us. He looked at me for an extra second before looking at the rest. “As for all of you trash that have managed to stay out of trouble, keep that up or you will end up like them. Be obedient and you will get your two meals a day. Disobey and punishment will be given out instead. Now you all better remember this and be productive.”

Stepping away from his podum, Dynamite disappeared back into his office.

Funneling into the mess hall, Star, Harp and I all got back together. Sitting down, Harp quickly got to whispering more of our plan. As it seems, they spent the night with Spritz. During that time, they had quietly discussed a plan.

Harp began to explain. “Frankly I don’t know if that mare is on our side or not, but I’m banking on that she hates the NCR enough that she will help us. Fortunately she knows a few things here that need spark batteries to be used, which we can possibly get our hooves on. I told her if I could get my hooves on electronics, I could make it into something that might help us get out of here.”

Star sighed, making sure her voice was as quiet as possible within the loud mess hall. “I don’t know. Things here are very locked down. The most you could make is a shiv or something. Don’t know how that will help us.”

A slightly depressed look formed on Harp's face. “I know, I know. I’ve been really trying hard to think of what's the best way out of here. Most ideas would take too long, and the fastest way out is simply too destructive… I just need more time to think things through.”

I finally chimed in. “Well, not sure if it helps, but I learned Spritz killed most of the other prison bosses in one go. It was during the quarry work we are due to do. From what I was told, it was quite brutal. We should really be careful on how we go about dealing with Spritz.”

Star nodded. “Ya, that bitch is built like a brick and hits like one too. There's also no guarantee she won't just kill us if we’re successful at escaping. Steal rangers do that shit after all.”

Harp took a deep breath. She slowly exhaled before adding to the conversation. “She’s our only shot right now, so we just need to tread carefully. Now let's avoid talking about all this before some pony overhears us.”

Star and I nodded.

We had breakfast. Just like before, Spritz got her tribute. After that we were allowed to wander around the prison compound for an hour. Amralt told us that it was our only free time before we went to “Work.” Most of the inmates just sat around with their clicks, talking. There was little anypony could do here. There were even less places to get away from another pony. Spritz Cookie was doing some sort of sermon about the fall of Equestria and how the NCR does not deserve what remained. We chose to wander around first in order to get a better look at our prison.

I was no architect, or a thinker at all, so I let Harp do the thinking here. From what I could tell myself, besides the several layers of high chain linked fences and guard towers, we also had flat desert as far as the eye could see. I was completely at a loss on how we were to even get out of the prison, much less get away from whoever chases after us.

Once the hour was up, we were all called outside to line up in groups of five.

I stuck with Amralt along with Pilfer and Filch. They latched onto us like parasites. To my relief, the fifth pony to join us was Tire Fire who made the two thieves considerably uncomfortable, so they positioned themselves on the other side of Amralt. This was good, as it let Tire talk to me with a big wooly Yak as a wall for us.

The NCR guards came around to shackle our back left legs, then ran a chain through them. Looking over at Harp and Star, the same was being done with them. The two stuck with Spritz Cookie and two other rough looking mares. Once everypony was chained up, we were herded to the wagons and packed inside.

With a roaring engine, the large and armored bulldozer rolled over. The Warden himself drove the thing. I was in the front wagon which gave me a better view of the junky looking tank of ancient construction equipment.

It was hard to tell, but my guess was that the bulldozer was from Burro Industry. The thing had no flare sturdy donkey design to it. The armored plates were clearly welded on which covered all the vital spots, including the cabin. Even the tractors had a skirt on it. I think I saw what looked like concrete poking out from under the armor plates here and there. To complete the tank-like look, as ridiculous as it was, an NCR Guard sat on top of the bulldozer, holding onto a bar for stability. He was armed with what looked like a Service Rifle, but it was actually more than that. It had the Service Rifle form, but it's magazine was a huge box with a belt of bullets feeling into the side from it. A bipod was attached to the end of a thicker barrel.

“What's up with that rifle?” I asked.

“You mean the NCR’s all purpose rifles they use everywhere,” Pilfer spoke up. “Ya. Turns out they can turn those things into machine guns or markspony rifles. When I got my hooves on one of them, it didn’t seem all that impressive, to tell the truth. But that's because it was an unmodified one. Get the right parts and a Service Rifle will be whatever you want it to be.”

It made me wonder what I could do with my own Service Rifle if I ever get it back.

With a loud clunk of the wagons being hooked onto the bulldozer, I heard the Warden begin shouting. “Don't you go getting scratches on my Dazychain now. She's a sensitive gal so treat her right, you idiot!”

“Yes sir. Sorry sir! You mean the bulldozer sir?” the NSR guard said back.

“Her name is Dazychain, privet.” The warden shouted back.

“Yes sir! I’ll be more careful around Dazychain, sir!” the guard again said back, but with a bit more panic in his voice.

“Good. Now go take those lowlifes to get work done,” Warden Dynamite ordered before addressing the Guard on top of Dazychain. “Like before, if a prisoner even tries to get close to my Dazychain, shoot them!”

The Guard on top of Dazychain saluted the Warden. “With honor, Sir!”

Warden Dynamite finally trotted off and the roar of Dazychain’s engine powered on. The wagons lurched forward as a result.

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“Alright Slowtrot. Again ... bend with your knees and let the pickaxe do most the work.” Amralt had focused on me to show the best way to smash rocks, which luckily kept the other prisoners away. I wasn’t going to push the giant friendly furball away with all the cutthroats I was around, so I just did as he instructed.

It wasn't all bad. Amralt’s technique for smashing rocks put less strain on my neck and shoulders. This was something that was engaging my whole body, I was sure I was going to feel it the next day.

The quarry itself was just some hole in the ground. Both the NCR guards down here with us and up above us had their guns at the ready, waiting for somepony to do something stupid. The process for breaking the rocks was simple as well. It started with some of us drilling holes into the side of the quarry, shoving dynamingt down into it, blowing a huge chunk out, then breaking the chunk into small enough pieces for them to be carried away into the rock crusher.

Harp and Star had the job of picking up the smaller limestone rocks to be carried to the rock crusher. If it wasn’t a nearly nonstop twelve hour shift, or with a lot of bad ponies around it, it wouldn't be that bad.

My pickacks came down onto a chunk of Limestone, breaking off a small peace.

“Good good. Keep that up, pony,” Amralt encouraged as he brought his own pickaxe down, breaking off a larger chunk. With each hit he did, he turned it into several smaller rocks. “See? Eventually you will smash like Yak!”

Tire Fire huffed as he, too, brought his pickaxe down. He just shaved a flake off the slab of limestone.

“You pony, need more work before smashing like Yak,” Amralt told Tire Fire.

“Rather smash a few faces like a Desperado then smashing rocks like a Yak,” Tire complained as he looked over at me.

I mouthed, “Give Harp some time.” It seemed to me that I got the message across since he returned to breaking rocks.

A sharp whistle, from one of the NCR ponies, made me jump as a nearby prisoner got smacked with a baton. “No slacking, trash,” the guard scolded before moving on.

Returning to the repetitive labor, I tried to not think about how fucked this whole situation was, but my already aching body didn’t give me any respreve. It would be nice to be like Amralt, somehow enjoying this forced labor, but I was a pony. Worst was that it didn’t feel all that different from how my life was like before I won that cursed pipbuck. I may have not been forced to work like this, but there was never any life to it. Just the expectation of getting the job done.

It felt pessimistic, but it seemed to me that this work was more honest. We were indeed a replaceable workforce that the higher ups wanted to work to death. Our only worth was our labor, nothing more. I had managers who wished they could force us to keep working. They got upset over the littlest thing and forced all the accountability onto others.

Maybe they were the first slaver’s in this wasteland. It would make sense.

I was missing the taste of a cold beer and a warm hayburger. Nothing was better at the end of a long day of work. Heavy beer was always better. But that’s not what was waiting for me. Not as long as I say here.

With another strike of my pickaxe, I broke off another chunk and wondered. Would this be less depressing if I was not being forced to do it, or would it be more depressing? On one hoof, I know it’s not actually my fault being here, so I can't blame myself. But on the other hoof, I can't just walk away. I’d get shot for trying.

Breaking the large rock into smaller pieces, I just sighed. I thought that anything right now was not going to help me in any way.

Getting into a pattern, my aching legs worked automatically. I just focused on working through the pain. It all started to become rithmic which helped keep up my rock braking. It was as if I was working to the beat of a drum. The pings of iron on limestone, the hum of the rock crusher, grunts from the workers along with the rattling of chains. It all harmonized into a sad hopeless tune, like we all were parts of a cruel instrument.

One of the zebras began humming in tune with the sound of the work. The others followed, all in tune with each other.

Then they began to sing.

“I’ll be so glad, when, oh when oh when, the sun goes down.”

“When the sun goes down”

“I’ll be so glad, when, oh when oh when, the sun goes down.”

“When the sun goes down.”

“I know I ain’t leaving, but I want to lie down.”

“I want to lie down.”

“I know I ain’t leaving, but I want to lie down.”

“I want to lie down.”

“I want to lie down.”

“Oh how I love the sun, oh yes I do, but won’t it stop bearing down on me.”

“Stop bearing down on me.”

“Oh how I love the sun, oh yes I do, but won’t it stop bearing down on me.”

“Stop bearing down on me.”

“I know I’ve made mistakes, It’s plain to see.”

“It’s plain to see.”

“I know I’ve made mistakes, It’s plain to see.”

“It’s plain to see.”

“But all this labor, my oh my, It’s killing me.”

“It’s killing me.”

“But all this labor, my oh my, It’s killing me.”

“It’s killing me.”

“It’s killing me.”

“It’s killing me.”

A loud long whistle came from the bulldozer. Everypony stopped working. Somehow we had made it through half the work time. It was time for us to take our break.

Lining up, we all got some water and only that.

Sitting down, I finally realized how much I hurt all over. My body ached for me to just lay down and not ever get back up. The water itself was lukewarm and tasted off, but I still greedily drak it up. It helped to moisten my dry throat.

“By Celestia, I don’t think I can do this for long,” Harp complained as she collapsed onto the ground.

Star Charter stood next to her, finishing up her water. “I can see that. You need to get some muscle on those legs of yours. You're just way too skinny.”

Harp grumbled as she let her body relax.

Tugging on her chain was Spritz Cookie who paid no mind to whom she was connected to. “This is nothing. Everypony in the Steal Rangers trained until they felt like they were dying, then we trained some more. Even the scribes.”

“Sounds like you were an amazing bunch.” Harp breathed out.

Spritz smiled with pride. “No pony’s better than a Steal Ranger. It’s why none of you savages are worthy of the technology the Ministries left behind. We are trained to be able to properly use the old acano tech and we study to become wise enough to not use it. You know how many times the Steal Rangers kept some ignorant savage for setting off a megaspell? Or prevented a ganger from turning on an army of angry robots? More times then you can count.”

“I can count exceptionally high, thank you very much,” Harp lazily said. “And stop calling me a savage. I didn’t go through an advanced education to get dismissed as some idiot peasant.”

Tugging on their chain, Spritz dragged Harp and Star closer to her a few hoofsteps. Harp just let herself get dragged, clearly too exhausted to care.

Spritz said coldly, “Listen here, little pony. I don’t care where you're from or why you looked like the product of a orgy that had the misfortune to bring a dirty stipe into the mix. Trust me when I say this: None of you are worthy of the gifts the Ministries left behind. It is my job to keep it out of your grimy greedy hooves and prevent you savages from destroying Equestria a second time.”

There was a pause before Harp shrugged and said. “Alright. You Steal Rangers are the guardians of the old world. I’m nothing but a dirty savage.”

“And never forget that!” Spritz huffed at Harp.

After a few more minutes in silence as everypony rested, the same whistle from the tractor went off. Everypony began to get up. My body didn’t want to get back to work, but I knew I had no choice in the matter. It was work or I get beaten. Nothing in between.

It was now, with how ragged my body already felt and that I was going to do more work, that I remembered what Dead Axle told me. That the groups like the NCR say they got rid of slavary, but in truth they just found ways to do it without it being called slavary.

What pony is going to care about the well being of a convict? Not like most ponies did in my time. Doubt they’d start now. I just hope Harp comes up with an escape plan and soon.

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Few ponies talked on our way back. We just didn’t have the energy or willpower for it. It was as though we were all dead and being transported over the river stix to the afterlife. If it was not for the pain I felt all over, I would have believed we were all dead.

Worse, I was seeing things, mostly mirages off in the distance. An oasis here, friendly ponies there. What seemed to persist was the image of some headless pony clad in black armor, a long tattered red scarf waving off it’s neck in the wind. It was odd as it would appear and disappear as though it was following the carts.

When we finally arrived back at the NCRCF, my body felt conflicted. I know that food was waiting for me soon, but it just didn’t want to move at all. Standing in the cart was like a rest to me.

As expected, there was no choice. Even if my body said no, the chains didn’t care. They forced me to move, either by marching or by being dragged.

Nearly everypony dragged their hooves as we filed out into the courtyard, waiting for Warden Dynamight to make yet another speech. The wait was longer than anypony here liked, though no pony made a sound from their muzzles as the guards watched. Our stomachs were far braver than we, gurgling loudly in demand for food.

Trotting out as though he just woke up from a nap, Warden Dynamite looked down at us as he adjusted his megaphon. “Yet another day of hard work has been done. You all grow closer to be like real ponies. Did you know that the Ministry Mares, long before they became the Ministry Mares, worked tirelessly, day in and out? Pinky Pie grew up on a rock farm, a thankless job she did before she became a peerless event planner and intelligence agent for Celestia. Rainbow Dash trained everyday to become an elite flier for the Equestria air force, never skipping a day to make herself a sword for Equestria. Applejack was a simple farmer who would work herself sick to provide apples for all of Equestria. Fluttershy managed all the lesser creatures, a job that truly requires kindness to tolerate such mongrels. Even Rarity never took a break. She designed uniforms and promoted the biggest stars of Equestria long before the Ministry of Image was even a thought. Then there was Celestia’s own apprentice, the court mage Twilight Sparkle, who would have shut herself off from the world to study magic if Celestia didn’t order her to find the heroes of Equestria. So powerful was she that she even bound a dragon to her will.”

That all sounded wrong. Not entirely wrong, but wrong nonetheless. Even at their most exaggerated, the Ministry Mares always presented themselves as normal ponies who just put a little extra effort into their jobs, not enslaved themselves to it. Rainbow Dash was a member of the Wonderbolts who, from what I knew, did just as much shows for the public as they did military operations. Pinky Pie was just a party planner. I know because I had been to a few of them when I was much younger. Not sure about the others, though one thing I knew for sure, Spike the Dragon was not bound to Twilight Sparkle's will.

The dragon was very much independent. He even did many speeches on the Ministry Mares behalf. Even though he was rarely presented in any of the propaganda, everypony seemed to like Spike far more than the Ministry Mares themselves. It was something about how he seemed just as exhausted with the war as most ponies were, yet still forcing a smile.

Warden Dynamite had paused for a moment. His head tilted up and to the side as though disgusted from looking at us. Somehow I felt that he was personally looking at me. “So if I hear any complaining about the work you do, I will personally have you punished for being ungrateful trash, though that is what you are.”

The NCR guards began trotting up and down the lines of prisoners, unshackling us one by one. The tired and relieved signs of the prisoners could be heard as they totted down to the messhall. When they finally came to me and my shackle was removed, one of them poked me with a baton.

“With me, inmate,” The NCR Guard told me, making me a bit worried.

Led away from the others, I caught a glimpse of Harp’s worried face as I was trotted back over to the armored bulldozer. There I saw a bucket with a long metal handled brush waiting for me.

“Warden requests you clean…” the soldier then sighed, “Dazychain, before you go and eat.”

I was a bit confused and too sore all over to want to do anything, but the broom was pushed into my hooves, sending the message that I had no choice in the matter. “Just get the dust and dirt off it,” he commanded.

Weakly nodding, I dragged my way to Dazychain, dipping the brush into the water bucket before attempting to clean it.

The large piece of construnstruction equipment was very much in good condition, with no rust to be found on it except for the hard to reach places which were almost out of sight. It also looked as if it’s paint job was not over two hundred years old. The paint was still old, but more of a ten or fifteen year old paint job. It also looked as if it had seen combat since the thick armored plates had markings of being shot at here and there. Even the blade, it’s big shovel part, had a massive dent in it as though it was used to stop some large projectile that exploded on it.

As I tiredly scrubbed the dust and dirt off, the broom required several strokes just to clean one spot. Around that time the Warden trotted over. The much older stallion looked clean and proud of himself. Accompanying him was the NCR mare who had read our charges when we first arrived yesterday.

“Ain't she a beauty, Ginger?” Warden Dynamight said proudly.

“Yes sir.” The mare, Ginger, said in a flat bored tone.

“Have I ever told you about how my colts and I used Dazychain to knock down the last of the Fillydelphia slaver’s defence during the war for that shithole?” Dynamight asked jovaly.

“Yes sir.” Ginger again said flatly.

Dynamite explained anyways. “The air was thick with gunpowder and blood. The damned slaver’s had fortified their positions using artillery and AA guns to keep the NCR at bay. It was a stalemate, you see. The NCR was still building its supply chain. The slavers only just lost theirs, but sat on a stockpile of bullets. The commander of this fight wanted to wait them out. Starve them. Use proper siege tactics that she read in a book, for Luna's sake! I knew that was not going to work. I had fought slavers plenty of times before and I knew they were just as crafty as they were cruel. By Celestia, I knew that the best strategy was to be aggressive. Make sure they didn’t have time to plot or plan. So I got in Dazychain and told my colts to follow my lead. Fuck the commander’s orders and charge straight in. The slaver’s were ready for an attack, but not prepared for Dazychain. Getting right on their flimsy wall, I knocked over their sniper tower and sent the bastards scattering. They were so focused on me and Dazychain that they didn’t have time to notice my colt's charging in guns blazing. That maneuver was so brilliant it caused slaver’s to leave their post to deal with us and open holes for the rest of the NCR to break through. And you know what that bitch commander did as my reward for driving in the last nail of those slaver’s coffins?”

“Yes sir.” Ginger clearly sounded as she knew what he was about to say next.

“That bitch said I should be shot for insubordination and Dazychain be melted down for scrap! At least Gawdyna understood my brilliance. She and I knew what it takes to win a battle. What sacrifices are necessary for victory,” Dynamight grumbled.

He trotted up closer to Dazychain. He overlooked my work as I exhaustedly brushed the dust off the very dusty bulldoze. My stomach demanded food and my muscles wanted to just stop, but I knew I didn’t have the option to just leave or lay down. I wanted to eat and I knew pissing off this asshole in any way would keep me from whatever slop they were surviving today.

“Ginger, did you know my grand papy found Dazychain here? Fixed her up to help on the farm. Helped my family clear land to grow tatos and mutfruit up until I, myself, took over the farm,” the Warden said bostfuly.

Again, Ginger said. “Yes sir.”

He patted Dazychain on the side like it was a beloved pet. “When Redeye came to take my land and ponies, all I could do was leave with Dazychain. I made her stronger. Once I had my own militia, I took the fight to Redeye himself. Took out his slave camps one by one until I got to Fillydelphia where I, and my colts, joined the NCR to finish off those bastards. If only I arrived a few months sooner, they would be singing my praise, not that dimitives stable pony!”

“Careful, Sir.” Ginger cautioned in a flat, yet stern tone.

Dynamite huffed. “Right. Don’t want the Lightbriger’s fanatics beating at my door again. Bunch of zealots, the lot of them.”

I kept brushing off the dust. The water bucket got darker every time I dipped the brush in. I tried my best to quickly finish the task, which was going quite slow with how my body didn’t want to work. I eventually noticed that things had gone very quiet. The Warden was just watching me, not saying anything as I brushed.

It was a bit unnerving, something that I always hated when managers did it. They were always waiting for me to make a mistake so that they could criticize me. Worst part was that their watching of me was why I made a mistake.

I would always get nervous and start thinking how I need to make sure I don't mess up, but, since I was lost in thought about it, I would slip up, then bam. Now I become the manager's personal verbal punching bag.

My body suddenly shifted a bit to the side as I only then noticed that I stepped on the bucket and lost my balance, causing me to stumble. Unable to catch myself, I fell right into the bulldozers side. The handle of the brush slammed into it, making a scraping sound as I unintentionally scratched Dazychain.

On the ground, it took me a moment to even push myself up. My tired body wanted to just stay down. Finally up, I saw a very upset looking Warden Dynamite, of which I prepared for him to start shouting.

What came took me by surprise as a hoof hit me in the side of my face, knocking me down. “YOU USELESS PIECE OF TRASH!” he shouted as I felt a swift kick to my gut.

Both the hit to my face and the kick to my gut only added to the pain all over my body. Everything already hurt and I had no energy to defend myself, so I just laid there as the Warden continued to kick me.

“You can't do anything right! Talking about lawyers not ending your laughing when I tell you to, and now you scratched Dazychain.” He growled at me and gave a few more kicks. “This is why you're here. Ponies like you are too stupid to live like normal ponies. So stupid that if no pony was around to hold your damn hoof, you’de eat rocks till ya die.”

The kicking finally stopped. Dynamite trotted back over to Ginger. “I want this pony to be made an example of and sent straight to his cell.”

“Example of, sir?” Ginger said with a raised eyebrow.

Dynamite huffed in annoyance. “Ten lashes. No, make it fifteen. And don’t get some pussy fagot recrut to do it this time. It’s not a punishment if the pony can’t get the whip in deep. He needs to be reminded of his place for as long as the scars remain.”

The Warden trotted off, kicking up dirt as he left. A sharp whistle came from Ginger as two NCR soldiers trotted over to me. There was a pause as the two stood over me, followed by Ginger saying, “You heard the Warden. This inmate gets fifteen lashes, and have one of the vetrain soldiers do it.”

“You sure Lieutenant?” one of the soldiers asked.

She sighed. “This isn’t Mainhattan. You either do it or we share the punishment. Now go. I need to write another report about this.”

The two soldiers dragged me to the center of the courtyard where I was thrown to the ground as one trotted off. After a few minutes, a tall wooden stool and two wooden boards had been carried over, along with a third stallion.

“This shit again,” the older soldier spat on the ground, “What happened this time?”

“Scrached the fucking bulldozer,” one of the other soldier’s replied. “He gets fifteen lashes.”

The older soldier just sighed. “And I’m sure Dynamite is watching to make sure we do them all.”

The two younger soldiers put the stool down. They placed the boards in between it and dragged me to it. Taking off my shirt and with some rope, my two forehooves were tied to the top board. My back hooves were then tied to the bottom boards, forcing me to sit up straight.

Looking over to one of the soldiers, my mouth was too dry to speak. I tried to plead for help. That they didn’t need to do it.

The soldier just shook his head. “Should have thought about that before you committed the crime. Anyways, an order is an order. My job is to follow it.” He shoved my own shirt into my mouth as the soldier backed away. I heard a loud crack of a whip snap next to my ear, causing me to flinch.

“ONE,” a soldier yelled.

With another crack, I felt fire on my back as the whip dug into it like a blade. I cried out in pain. My shirt muffled much of it.

“Two.” The pain only increased as another cut entered my flesh.

“Three.” There was nowhere for me to go as the pain increased.

“Four.” With the pain coming, so did came tears as I began to weep. It was all I could do.

“Five.” Was I going to die here? After all I had gone through, was this the end.

“Six.” Quicktrot was free and I was here. I hated it so much.

“Seven.” Even Ashy was likely laughing at me, calling me the criminal when she was nothing more than a murderer.

“Eight.” But was I any better? Did I have to kill Healing Herbs? Could I have saved her?

“Nine.” Maybe I should have just stayed with the megaspell as it collapsed. Just died there.

“Ten.” Maybe I could have made sure the megaspell was destroyed, or even prevented Quicktrot from being made.

“Eleven.” Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I save anypony?

“Twelve.” All I wanted was to be left alone. Maybe find a mare of my own.

“Thirteen.” Now look at me. In this damned wasteland being whipped for a crime I didn’t commit.

“Forteen.” I hate it all. The wasteland and the ponies who made it.

“Fifteen.” Why was I still alive when everypony I knew was dead?

“That’s enough!” a soldier called out and trotted over. I could feel the blood oozing off my back and down my legs. There was nothing I could do but suffer as my vision became hazy.

‘Do you want to live?’ the wispy voice of a mare asked me.

Looking through my hazy eyes, I saw the mirage again. The headless pony standing in front of me in it’s black armor. ‘Or do you wish to die?”

“I… want…” I painfully spoke through my dry mouth. My mind was clearly seeing a delusion, but the question was clear in my mind. So very clear. “To…”

There was just too much to be fixed. Too much left undone. Worse, evil ponies still lived.

“To live,” I breathed shallowly.

The headless pony turned around. It’s red scarf and red cloth wrapped tail waving in the wind, though I felt no such breaze. “Good. Fate has plans for you, so live to meet them.” her ghostly voice echoed in my head then as she vanished as though she was never there to begin with.

She was just a delusion.

Right?

My vision became more hazy then dark as I just let go, letting merciful unconsciousness take me.

_______________________________________________________

As my eyes opened, the refreshing feeling of having been asleep did not come to me. I still felt exhausted. Worse, my back stung more than it ever had before. Just trying to move hurt me. I wanted to cry in pain, but I felt too dehydrated to even let out one tear.

“Looks like he’s awake,” Pilfer said. His face was illuminated by the faint light of a spell.

“He must be tougher than he looks to wake up after a beating like that,” Filch added.

I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry. As my mouth was open, I felt something be shoved into it. “Pony must chew slowly, or pony will choke,” Amralt told me as I tasted a clump of a food bar in my mouth.

As I chewed, a bit of water broke out from inside. It tasted off more than before, but I didn’t care. It was a little bit of food and water. That's all that matters.

“Amralt was worried when pony friend didn’t come to eat, so Yak snuck some of Yak's food and drink for pony Slowtrot. It’s not much, but Amralt hopes it helps.”

If I could hug him, I would, but all I could do was swallow and say, “Thank you,” before passing out in what I hope was sleep this time.

_______________________________________________________

-Reputation-

-NCRCF-

Slowtrot has gained the disdain from Wardin. His spiteful nature will not stay with Slowtrot alone. The NCR soldiers will now ignore any trouble from other inmates happening to Slowtrot, Star and Harp.