Outer Worlds: Equestria

Outer Worlds: Equestria

Chapter 4: Unconventional Meeting

The awkward meeting with Scorched Pine had been better than I thought. I still wasn’t sure why I blurted that out, but at least his smile and laugh hadn’t been specifically mean. He let me know that while he thought I was a pretty mare he didn’t know me that well. Maybe if I ended up hanging around for a few years, and would consider getting into the firewood business he’d consider me as a potential mate. I smiled, told him that was sweet, but I wanted to explore, and honestly I had simply blurted something out without really thinking.

Afterward he told me about Sugar Sweet. I got the picture that while he was kidding and playing with me he wasn’t kidding or playing about her. He looked genuinely sad that she was gone, and he seemed worried. From how he talked I could see that she meant more to him than just some casual thing. In a way, it reminded me of how Baldwin and I were toward one another. Except I’m fairly sure that Baldwin didn’t want to get me into his bed. No, I’m fairly sure that he was happy to be my friend, and honestly I was good with that. I didn’t want to push for more, because what we had was awesome.

Anything else would have been awkward and strange. Sure, we hadn’t grown up together, but we were close anyway. I felt closer to him than I did with my own mother. I had loved my mother, and I had respected her, but after what happened I realized that my mother was in love with high society, and that I was a means to an end. It made me realize that everything that had been done for me was less for me, and was actually more grooming me to become the proper leverage she needed to climb into the social graces she wanted. I wished, several times, that I would have gotten to grow up around Baldwin’s family. Maybe things would have been different, but then that might mean that I would be different. Thinking of it like that I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be different.

I stopped my musing as Scorched Pine explained that Sugar Sweet liked to do something called journaling in her room. I understood exactly what it meant, but it felt wrong that he’d been denied the ability to read and write. I studied him for a moment.

“Wait, you didn’t learn how to read and write?”

He snorted, “Nope,” he said, “Imma Earth Pony, and not one that happened to be a mechanic or guard. Back in Standing Water I was a general laborer. Mostly a glorified wagon puller. Teaching that wasn’t hard. Hook up a wagon with a lot of weight, have a colt or filly drag it across the yard, give ‘em a shock if they ain’t doing it fast enough, if they were fast enough try to get them to do it with more weight.”

He sighed, “I was good at wagon pullin’, but I like trees better. I can tell when they’re weak, dying, and I try to help ‘em hold on a little longer. Those that don’t I let ‘em go peacefully, cut ‘em up, and sell ‘em as firewood,” he said, “It’s what I was good at, and it was what I liked to do. The town boss didn’t cotton to it, said that it was a waste of a perfectly good wagon puller. To get the notion out of my head I got assigned seventy-two straight hours of hauling freight from the cannery to the landing pad.”

I stood there unable to reply to that, “But… that’s not right,” I said, “That’s trying to work you to death!”

He smiled, “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, “They knew that I could handle it with some Andrinel-Time, but I don’t like taking it. It makes me feel weird. So, I just had to power through it, and then do my normal twelve hour before I got my ten hours off.”

I stood there, and the thought of it bothered me. It was almost as if they had done that to Baldwin, and then I realized that they would have done that to him if he would have been born here. It wasn’t right, and I felt myself getting mad at the idea. How could they deny what a pony was good at? Hell, Scorched Pine’s cutie mark was a tree standing next to a stack of firewood. He was good with trees, that was his destiny!

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around what he’d said, and finally I realized that things here were different. I’d grown up in a world where a pony’s destiny wasn’t exactly laid out for them. Granted, my mother had attempted to do that to me, but I’d had the choice to refuse. I realized that everyone here had done the same. They’d refused, and for it they had been kicked out of Standing Water. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I hugged Scorched Pine. I let go, thanked him, and went looking for Sugar Sweet’s house. It wasn’t hard to find. I opened one of the buildings to see wrappers for some kind of candy all over the place.

I also found various slips of paper, all that looked like old stationary, that had been written on. I checked the first one, which was on a small desk that was made into the wall.

March, or maybe April, 1st or maybe 3rd. Doesn’t really matter does it? I haven’t had to keep time since I left Standing Water. Of course my leaving was less leaving and more running from Silver Star’s goon squad. I wasn’t going to let myself stay sick. Getting that medicine was the best damned thing I could have done. Of course when I ‘recovered’ they all knew that I’d taken their stash. Still, I would have loved to see Silver Star’s face over the fact that I took her allotted meds. Hope you don’t get sick there!

Oh, Scorched Pine invited me over to watch a serial with him. We watched the Masked Accountant, I love that serial! The Masked accountant, a former accountant for Majesty Signature Corporation, left the wild planet of Majesty and came to Equestria II. There she found a group of marauders and taught them the meaning of aggressive capitalism! Through her leadership she overthrew small independent companies and began building her own mega corporation! It was beautiful, awesome, and I so want to do that! I could, I mean I’m tough. I’ve been in a fire fight, well I was in a fire… okay journal, I was fired from a fry cook position, but I can handle myself.

I shook my head and looked around. I found another piece of paper near her bed.

Pretty Sure it’s April, and I think it’s the 6th, or maybe it’s the 8th? Again, I don’t have to keep time now, so why even bother? Ugh, I was hoping that this place would be different from Standing Water, and it is, mostly. But the ponies here are so… dull. Sure, Scorched Pine is pretty nice, and he likes the Masked Accountant, but he just wants to tend to his trees and cut up firewood. He’s cute enough, and maybe if I was more of a homebody I’d be fine with that. The thing is I know that my destiny is to be just like the Masked Accountant! Finding marauders is like finding cans of Neptuna. They’re everywhere. So, it’s just how do I do this? I’ve got some Adrenal-Time saved up. Most of it is stuff I took before I left Standing Water, but the other is stuff I found on the way over.

I haven’t told anypony about it, especially Ms. Dream. That old nag doesn’t understand a good time. I doubt that she would if a good time came over, knocked her over, sat on her face, and then started to wiggle. At least she’s not the same as Dirty Bit, but that’s still setting the bar pretty low. Nope, it’s the open air for me. So, I just got to figure where and when.

Okay, I was starting to see a pattern here. I found a third piece of paper, this one actually sticking out of a cabinet drawer.

Aprile, and I’m going to say it’s the 11th! I figured out where! There’s a group of marauders living just up the road at an old maintenance facility. It’s not much, really not much, and I’m sure that they’re just waiting on the right pony to show them how to change their tactics and become a terror in the corporate world! So, that’s where I’m heading. Journal, I’ve got a very special job for you. I figure that some of them might be wondering where I went. Honestly, I don’t care about most of them, but I would feel bad if Scorched Pine didn’t know, so I’m leaving you here in my cabinet so he can find you.

Reading felt like I’d read a young mare, or maybe an older filly’s, thoughts and wishes. Sugar Sweet was obviously exceptionally immature, and I knew a little bit about being immature! I might not have had the most experience with marauders, but what I’d seen they weren’t exactly the type that craved leadership. Most of them seemed to have the capacity to understand where to point a gun, to eat, and apparently to screw. I didn’t see them desiring to learn the ways of aggressive capitalism.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to find, but I couldn’t just leave this alone. That mare, despite the fact that she obviously did this to herself, didn’t deserve it. I trotted out, and moved toward the bend in the road that Butterscotch had shown me earlier. I looked toward the two paths. One of them went back to where I had come from, and I know there was a town with a wall around it. That had to be Standing Water. The other path seemed to go through some old buildings, and so I headed that way. I floated my rifle out, had it ready, and I checked around as I stuck to the tall crystalline grass.

I saw them as I got closer. There was a small group, hanging out by what looked like a large opened door. They had that insane giggle going on, and most of them were wearing the altered mining gear. I did notice that some of the mining gear was smeared with some kind of black paint. There were also little trinkets they wore on a necklace around their necks, trinkets that looked wrong. I studied one, and I realized the trinkets were horns. They were wearing Unicorn horns around their necks. Those sick bastards had defiled ponies like that. They were wearing parts of them as fucking jewelry!

I closed my eyes, breathed, and prepared. Just because I didn’t see a whole lot of marauders didn’t mean that there weren't a bunch of them there. The mining and welding helmets they wore could deflect a glancing bullet, but it wasn’t likely to deflect one that was lined up well. I looked at the ones there, and I noticed a big one. He was easily as big as Scorched Pine or Baldwin Apple, and it looked like he was wearing mining gear that had been repurposed into some kind of armor. I studied him, looking at his movements, and I noticed that he seemed to be focusing on something lying in the street.

I took aim, making sure to take my time, and let out a breath slowly as I pulled the trigger with my magic. The rifle barked, but I was far enough away that even with the sound carrying it wasn’t likely that they would know exactly where I was. The effect was the shell blasting through the side of his helmet. I watched him fall over, and the others began moving, screaming, laughing, giggling, and I took aim again. The next one, that was looking around frantically was lined up. I couldn’t get a good shot on the head, but I lowered and aimed for the neck. I fired, and watched as the pony fell. I didn’t want to kill ponies, but then these weren’t ponies anymore. They’d given up the rights to being called ponies the moment they had began wearing unicorn horns for fucking jewelry!

I took aim again, fired, hitting another in the neck, but that was the last one that I could safely hit. The others moved behind crates, or ran into various buildings. I was going to have to get up close, and I didn’t like that. I began to move, and as I did I saw a pony that had been dressed in similar armor as Private Scrumptious. Luckily enough it wasn’t him, but instead it looked like a mare. Her eyes were opened in terror, and I could see where her horn had been destroyed. My eyes burned with fury. I touched her, to see if maybe she could be saved, although living without a horn wasn’t exactly living, but no she was dead.

She was dead and her belly was already swollen. I touched her again, she didn’t feel stiff, and the blood around her didn’t look old. I chanced a look down at her nethers, and I felt bile as I nearly threw up. They’d raped her, and her belly was swollen from, oh sweet merciful Remedy. I wanted to throw up, but I looked around her. There was bits of ammunition lying around, most of which I gathered, and I saw a shotgun lying there.

I picked it up, and after a quick glance I realized that it had been broken past the point of repair. Likely, she had fired until it gave out. I could see several marauder bodies around her, and from the looks of it she’d taken several down, but they still managed to get to her. I left her armor where it was. Maybe I could have used it, but it didn’t feel right to violate her anymore than what she already suffered. The marauders however, I figured that anything they had was up for grabs. I found a few pistols, most of which were in various stages of disrepair. One happened to be a revolver, and surprisingly it was in decent repair.

I found plenty of ammunition, a few knives, and finally I saw another rifle. This one was another bolt action, like my little junior version, but it was bigger, and there was a scope on it. I noticed a strange rune carved into the barrel, and I studied it a bit more. I was used to carrying things in my magic, but this rifle felt perfectly balanced. I noticed a strange contraption on the end, and I grinned. The rifle would be welcomed. I ejected a shell, and saw that it and my junior rifle actually used the same ammunition. At first this made me pause. Who would give a foal a weapon with high caliber ammunition?! Sure, I felt that in a place like this it was a good idea to teach foals to shoot, but with this kind of ammunition?! Start them off with b.b. Rifles for goodness sake! I shook my head, snorted, and levelated the rifle up behind me. I also looked at the marauders lying around near me. They didn’t seem like the smartest bunch, and one thing I had noticed was that they seemed to leave one another alone.

I didn’t like the idea exactly, but it was the best idea that I had at the moment. I began stripping the gear from the most intact marauders. I found a welding helmet that smelled like someone had been drinking some spoiled milk for a long time, and then they decided to belch their alphabet into the damned thing. Then I stripped the most intact pieces of mining gear from three of them until I had what appeared to be some cover. After that I moved forward. One of the marauders stuck their head out.

“Hey!” she shouted, “Fine that cunt?! Carve her up? I want her horn!”

I answered with a bullet. It hit her in one of the strange glowing eye pieces of her mining helmet. I hadn’t been close enough before to notice, but I could see what it did now. The back of her head exploded, blowing out chunks and causing her to fall backward. I looked at the revolver again. It was filthy, but there was a strange handle on it. The handle looked like it had been pearl at one time, and there were three faded apples on it.

“Well,” I said, “I’m not sure what to call you, but I certainly think you’re worth keeping.”

My new revolver was going to be shined up after this. I didn’t expect to find something that worked so well. I didn’t feel like the other pistols either. The others felt like most of their components were plastic. Almost as if they had been designed to fail and be replaced fairly often. This felt like a pistol that had been designed to last the ages. I moved forward and more of the marauders were stepping out.

Normal ponies would have looked at one of their number shooting another of their number and decided that the pony that did it was dangerous. Then most ponies would run in the opposite way, and a brave few might try to stop the shooter. Most ponies wouldn’t have giggled and asked if she jerked, if they could have her horn, if she was still spasming cause they wanted to fuck the bullet hole, or if I wanted to fuck in the mess that I made.

I answered each one of those questions with another bullet. Finally the rest of the marauders figured out that there was something wrong with this one, and they began scrambling again. I didn’t use the junior rifle. In truth I had a feeling that it would be likely sold, or maybe I could give it back to Scrumptious if I saw him. That idea tickled me a little. Maybe I could convince Scrumptious to leave Spacey’s Favorite behind. Let the idea of flying free fill him. My little daydream distracted me, but the feeling of a bullet hitting the repurposed mining suit brought me back. Especially when it went through and hit my leg!

No pony had told me how much this hurts! I moved back, my magic keeping everything lifted, but that bullet had hit my leg and went through. This mining suit sucked! I got it off, and looked at my leg again. I needed something. I remembered the inhaler that I’d found, lifted it out of my saddlebags, and used it. Instantly I felt better, and I watched as the hold closed up. Now I was healed, and I knew to be careful.

“Gonna kill you!” came a giggling shout, “Then gonna rape you!”

I looked out, and my Eye-Dentity Scanner slowed everything down again. I had been doing this the hard way, and I wanted to curse myself. I placed two shots at his helmet, and the pistol fired off both of them. His head exploded into a fine mist, and I stepped out. I checked the revolver and it was empty. I’d have to find ammunition for it later, but right now I was going to focus on the rest of the marauders.

It was similar to the single worst game of hide and seek anyone had ever played. They hid, and when they saw me they’d shoot. I shoot back, normally I used the Eye-Dentity Scanner simply because it made things easier. Slowing everything down and giving me time to actually aim was better. If I would have remembered to do this from the beginning it would have been likely that I wouldn’t have had to deal with the marauders this way.

Slowly, I moved through the buildings, and I looked for Sugar Sweet. I had hoped that she would be standing around, bragging about how she traded her goods to join the marauders, maybe even ask if I would be willing to teach her my badassary, but she wasn’t here. I moved toward the first building, the one that I hadn’t went into because none of the marauders had ran in there. There, on a workbench was a mare. She was tied down, her mane was stiff and ruined, blood seemed to be stuck to her dock, and her thighs. I neared her and she closed her eyes.

“Please,” she asked, “Please no more, I...I wanna go home, can I go home?”

I closed my eyes, “Calamity help me,” I said, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here. Are you Sugar Sweet?”

There were little whimpering sounds, “Please, I… I wanna go home!!!” she bawled, “I dun wanna do this anymore! These games hurt!”

I neared her and untied her leg. I felt her go stiff. She shook her head, “No… they did something, under me, please…”

I stopped, and used my magic to feel under her. I felt it, a flat panel, already pressed in. The moment she was lifted off it would go. Somepony had put a fucking landmine under her and they had been raping her knowing that if she tried to get away she’d die! I swallowed and slowly I wrapped my magic around the disk. I moved it, feeling it come out, and I saw that it was green in color. I then floated it past me, and threw it as hard as I could. It exploded near a ruined vending machine, and when it did I saw this green goop splash on the outer shell. It bubbled, and soon there was a very large hole in the vending machine where it had eaten through.

I finished untying her, and then I slowly moved her down. She couldn’t stand, and I imagined that she wasn’t going to be right. Instead I carefully floated her behind me, as gently as I could, and I moved back toward Day Dream’s camp. With any luck they could give her the medical attention she needed. As I entered the camp there was a large commotion, and ponies were gathering around. I brought her down to where Day Dream was, and the older mare sucked in her breath.

“Sweet mercy,” she said, “This poor child, what happened?”

I looked at her, “She had wanted to find marauders, and thought that she could join them,” I said, “She thought that they would listen to her, and this happened! Those… They’re not ponies! They can’t be ponies! No pony would do something like this!”

“Nope,” Mrs. Swirl said, “Nope, ponies don’t do this.”

She looked at me, “I wish that I could leave,” she said, “I wish that I could escort you over to Standing Water. I’d help you kill every single one of those bastards, but I can’t. The camp needs me.”

Instead she hoofed something over to me. I took it and I saw it was a small tin. It looked old, really old, and there was a picture of a Zebra on the front. That Zebra was smiling, and its eyes were bright as stars. I looked at it, and then I looked back at her.

“I’ve had those for years, and trust me, they’re handy. Just one of them helps clear the fog from your head. But don’t use them often, or at all, if you don’t have to. They can be pretty addictive,” she said, “But if the need arises, take one, just one, and believe me you’ll see all kinds of things that you couldn’t figure out before.”

I nodded, and looked at the others. I wasn’t expecting anything, and honestly, I didn’t want to see Scorched Pine right now. I had a feeling this would break his heart, and I didn’t want to see that. Maybe I was a coward, no, I know I was a coward, but I couldn’t stand to see a stallion look at the mare he loved and know that things would never be right with her. I hoped that his spirit was as strong as his body was. Maybe if it was then he would be able to help her heal.

I left, and I walked toward the large wall that I’d seen. As I neared it I saw two guards standing with a stallion that was digging out in the dirt. I neared them, and the stallion slowed down. He looked at me, and I saw a tired old stallion that had what looked like four or five wooden caskets near him.

“Morning!” he said, “Fine day for a good job! If’n you’re planning on joining the crew here at Standing Water you’ll want to reserve your burial plot now! We’ve got low, low prices, and bargain deals on a variety of caskets! You’ve tried the best, now try the rest, Spacey’s Favorites!”

I shook my head, “Sorry, I just need parts for my ship,” I said, “and I was told to check here.”

He nodded, “Ah, well, you can avail yourself to our low, low prices inside. I can promise that some of the best Neptuna to every touch your tongue is right inside.”

I smiled, “Thanks,” I said, “So, you’re a grave digger?”

He snorted, “No, I’m a junior entomber!” he exclaimed, “I’m just six years away from being an associate entomber, and that comes with five days off a year!”

I looked at him, “Well, good luck on that.”

He smiled, “Hey, since you’re obviously a freelancer, how would you like a chance to make a little extra money?” he asked, “I’ve got a couple of folks that haven't paid their dues yet, and I’m backed up with work right now. Think that you could help a stallion out?”

I smiled, “Sure,” I said, “Got a name?”

He nodded, “Just let me forward the names, addresses, and the such to your Eye Dentity Scanner, huh,” he said, “You’ve got a fancy one. Guess that you must be one of those really good freelancers! Okay, that’s their names and addresses, just try to get it done today. Thanks!”

I nodded, and walked through the open gates. The town looked much like the buildings outside, although they seemed less over taken with nature and marauders. Moving forward I looked at the cannery. Day Dreamer had said that Filthy Bit lived around her, and if I was the boss I’d want to be near the place where the most workers were. That looked like the cannery in the distance. I moved toward it, and saw an empty desk along with an elevator behind it. On the desk was a simple note.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, but our receptionist had a problem with staying inside of the gate. Unfortunately she met her end at the hooves of some marauders, if this is urgent, take the elevator and speak to me, if not then kindly fuck off. - Dirty Bit.”

I snorted, walked toward the elevator, and took it up. A moment later it opened and I saw a light caramel colored stallion with a black mane. He was wearing a bowler hat, a slightly ragged looking green suit jacket, and was currently looking at a young gryphoness. The gryphon hen was looking at the floor.

“Mr. Bit, sir, I swear, it’s not my fault, but old Doloras, she’s gettin’ on in years, and ya’ve been stuffing things that ain’t Neptuna inta her in order to get more production. She’s set to cook Neptuna.”

He frowned at her, “Ms. Ironclaw, do you know your job?”

She nodded, “Sure sir, I’m the chief engineer for the cannery, like my pa was, but…”

“That’s exactly right, chief engineer. That means you fix things. Fix the cannery, and stop naming it!” he exclaimed, “Naming it only makes it hard to rip it open and fix it.”

He turned and saw me, “Ms. Ironclaw, why didn’t you tell me that there was someone here!” he exclaimed, “Welcome! Oh welcome to Standing Water, I’m Dirty Bit, the general manager for the township of Standing Water. My but you’re in basically good health! However, you’re not in uniform, and that will cost you a day’s wages.”

I shook my head, “Sorry, not an employee. I’m here for a Power Regulator.”

He looked at me, “Well, that’s a problem. We only have one, and it powers the entire town, however, maybe we can make a deal.”

He sat down and indicated a seat near the gryphon hen, “I have several workers that recently left, and if you are for hire, then I’d like for you to recover them for me. They’re living in a sort of free camp. Their leader used to be one of my best and brightest. I’m sure she still is. If you could convince her to return her, for all of them to return here, then you could have the power regulator from their camp, and at the same time it would ensure that we might meet production.”

I looked at him, “Most of those folks left for a reason, I’m sure,” I said, “Why would they want to come back?”

He sighed, “Yes, I pushed too hard, and I have learned my lesson. I would be more gentle, but our job must be done, surely you understand.”

I looked at him, and I had a feeling that I was going to be talking to a pony that could sell a mare her own mane and make her believe that it was the best deal ever.

You’ve unlocked Uncivilized Pacifier: When you see those acting in an uncivilized manner a deep seated rage takes hold. Thus all attacks toward Outlaws, Marauders, and Cannibals are now 20% more damaging, and you have special battle dialogue that is available while attacking.