Fallout: Equestria - The Storm

Fallout: Equestria - The Storm

Chapter 19: Ill Gotten Gains

***** ***** *****

The escaped zebras gawked at me as I took my Pearl back from Knight and returned to my hippogriff form. Soon after, we split up deep in the woods. My striped friends would take a long way around Vanhoover and go back west to their homelands. My group headed north to the river where the Gilded Gull waited. It had taken them this long to sail this far, and now we needed to head back south and into Seaddle. Crimson was anxious to secure Sabre’s family, annoyed by the long diversion. I wasn’t sure I wanted them saved.

My friends had covered their tracks, ensuring we would not be connected to the mass escape at Zimonja. The fewer complications the better. The losses the Enclave sustained there must have left them reeling.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Knight interjected. “Given the number of parts Fillydelphia produced and shipped, that was just a fraction of the Assault-Mares at their disposal.”

“Still, they can’t produce more now,” I countered, trying to look at the bright side. I needed positivity right now. “Sabre stopped manufacturing, and now he won’t have the materials necessary if the Enclave pressures him into starting again.”

The callousness on display at that prison towards zebras was surely indicative of Seaddle’s culture. Gwen had stated as much. They and the zebra Remnants were at war. They had a deep hatred for each other. I’d been on the receiving end enough to know.

*****

Over the next few days of sailing, I spent much of my time in Knight’s mindscape. My trauma and doubt was brought to the forefront of my mind for her to see and help me through. The soft, warm, white alicorn held me tight as I sobbed into her. Throwing myself into that prison was foalish. I hadn’t been ready for it. I doubted I’d ever fully recover.

And I’d only been there for two weeks! There were zebras who were born there! What right did I have to lay here and feel sorry for myself?

“Don’t think like that.” Knight stroked my mane. “Pain is pain. It’s not a competition. You have the right to your emotions.”

I sniffed. “Zev… He died for me, and never even knew my real name.”

She hugged me tighter. “He did what he set out to do. Save others.”

I’d honor him. I won’t waste this. I’d find a way to put a stop to everything happening in Vanhoover.

Knight kissed my forehead. “You’re not a monster.” I looked up at her. “And you don’t need me to be a good person. Without me, you endured hell and helped pull countless souls out of it. Monsters don’t do that.” She watched the nearby stream. “You feel the drive to help others. You always have. You just can’t process it correctly all the time. If you’re worried about losing me, don’t be.”

“But without you…”

“You’ll go back to your old way of making decisions. A series of logical filters, determining long term consequences and how they’ll affect you. Except, now you have a new one. It’s not empathy, per se, but you can imagine how your choices would make you feel if you were on the receiving end. You’ll always remember how empathy feels. That’s a very important filter.”

“That makes sense. I can do that. But it’s so easy to slip, like in Limbo.”

“That was a unique situation,” Knight sighed. “Anyone could have folded to the Darkness’s influence. I nearly did.”

“That’s not an excuse. I used you to kill five innocent ponies and mortally wound a sixth. For that fucking Pearl.” Tears welled up. “And I thought about doing it again. At Tenpony, when we learned what the Dragon Staff could do. I thought of turning Slash and Gritt into zebras and making you kill them.”

She looked at me sadly. “Then you thought about it more, talked to them, and found a better way. Don’t beat yourself up over intrusive thoughts.”

*****

We diverged at a fork in the river that led directly into Seaddle. The city was a gleaming beacon between mountain ranges. Not untouched by the War, but impressively recovered from it. Any ruins too damaged to restore had been demolished and rebuilt completely. The impressive technology the Enclave was capable of was on full display, but used for civilian infrastructure rather than military prowess. It was also fused seamlessly with western griffon culture, beautiful architecture blending old and new. The two species have clearly thrived together for the past century-and-a-half.

It was decided that we’d move our cannons below deck as we got closer, and that Knight would stay aboard. She was the only one who couldn’t ‘fit in’ with a simple change of clothes, and the mostly-formed Pearl still had no effect on her. Even Crimson’s cybernetics were mostly hidden by a tuxedo that Sabre had made for him. Star Pin evidently had a formal wear requirement. If Gritt, Slash, Purser, and Washout wanted to join us there, we’d need to stop at a boutique.

Even outside Star Pin, we’d look very out of place wearing armor and brandishing weapons. Washout certainly couldn’t wear her stolen east-coast Enclave gear. The only ones who wore armor around here were peace officers, and they had little more than a light ballistic vest over a bright uniform, and just carried batons and small caliber pistols.

Gritt was the only one among us who was completely useless without a gun, so he kept a small, sleek semi-auto in his jacket. Slash was utterly confused by the concept, stating that her armor was formal wear. Regardless, we had something tailored for her. She insisted on a suit, saying a dress was too frilly. Washout was content with a skirt and blouse. Purser’s outfit required no alteration, other than some magically seamless stitchwork courtesy of Knight.

As far as paying for all of this went, we actually had to go to a bank and exchange caps for golden bits. The rate was one-to-one, so I didn’t really see the point, other than a sense of status over the rest of the wasteland.

*****

The residents weren’t all pegasi and griffons. There was a minority of unicorns and earth ponies. No other creatures, however, so half our party still stuck out and drew glances. Those who watched us at least seemed to appreciate that we were well-dressed and not openly armed.

On the surface, Seaddle seemed to be a stable, friendly, civilized community. Families, even mixed-species families, walked about chatting and laughing. Businesses ran, entertainers performed, educators taught, workers maintained. But there were cracks. Anti-zebra propaganda dotted walls between advertisements. I’d seen plenty in the east, but those were old and faded by the centuries. The ones here were freshly painted and printed.

“Better Wiped Than Striped!” “Zebras Lie! Zebras Hate! Zebras Destroy!” Et cetera.

It made Washout visibly ill. What was missing was anything glorifying pony superiority. I suppose that would have led to tensions with the griffons. Zebras, it seemed, were the sole scapegoat. A common demon for this community to rally around.

*****

At the center of town stood a needle-like spire dedicated to decadence. Star Pin Tower, home of the influential Whiteclaw family. The top of the gleaming, narrow structure was a saucer-like level, having the appearance of an alien ship looming over the city, and was likely where the birds in charge stayed. The base was surrounded by a large hotel resort. Dressed our best, and with my writ of endorsement at the ready, we trotted in. A finely dressed griffon in a gala mask opened the door for us, eloquently inviting us to enjoy ourselves to our fullest. After what I had just endured, I was extremely tempted to.

A unicorn mare at the front desk took our names and magically frisked us for weapons. Gritt’s pistol was politely confiscated. White, with a butter-colored, curly mane, Margarin spoke from behind an ornate mask. I noticed that all the employees wore them.

“Please feel welcome to enjoy all our resort has to offer. Games of chance, a relaxing pool and spa, an adult club, and the Gourmand, the finest restaurant in Equestria.” The corners of her smile were visible. “Our master chef, Falchion Whiteclaw, would be delighted to serve her signature Gourmand Mignon to new travelers. When you need rest, feel free to rent a luxury suite in our glamorous hotel. As always, the Whiteclaw Society is here to serve your every want and need.”

I couldn’t help but notice that the words ‘adult club’ caught Crimson’s attention. I suppose I know where I’ll find him later. As long as he pays and doesn’t hurt anyone…

That was the last place I had any interest in going. It was going to be a long time before I wanted to be touched that way again. I wasn’t surprised by how I was treated in Zimonja, and I’d braced for it as best I could, but it was still traumatizing. I couldn’t be sure how I’d react to a massage, let alone sex.

*****

I couldn’t help but notice that no one was talking about the prison break. In all likelihood, the Enclave was doctoring reports before any information was released to avoid a panic. That was a lot of zebras with combat experience, and a motive to attack this city, that I unleashed.

Instead, patrons gambled, drank, ate, and prattled on about frivolous topics. Everyone here was fit and beautiful, eloquent and cultured. The juxtaposition of seeing pegasi and griffons, wing to wing, smiling and laughing, hugging and nuzzling, versus the gruesome battle I had seen in Gritt’s memories was both jarring and heartwarming. If there was a way to mend the rift with zebras and have real peace here, Seaddle would be a paradise.

Spirits… How many sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers… We killed dozens of griffs and ponies. We had to, to escape, but I was going to be responsible for so much heartache when word got out. I needed a drink, and the bartender was happy to satisfy me.

*****

Oh, what the hell am I doing? I need to speak to Pierre before Crimson takes him and the other Whiteclaws to Manehattan. I assume they’d have their own means of transport.

Getting off the bar stool, I found I was already somewhat tipsy. I’d only had two shots, and they weren’t that strong. Then again, I just lost a lot of weight. With a sigh, I made my way to the executive elevator and presented my writ that Sabre had given me. With a bow, the masked griffon hen called the elevator and operated it for me.

When I reached the executive level, I found Crimson already waiting outside Pierre’s office door.

“He’s in a meeting. We’ll have to wait.” He sat patiently.

I leaned on the door, subtly putting my ear to it. “Thought you’d be in the club.”

“Later.” He smirked.

I shook my head and focused on the door. It was hard to make out, but there was a refined voice of an older male, likely Pierre, and a shrill and haughty voice I did not recognize. It could have been through a radio, but the voice was distinctly filtered like Crimson’s.

“General Glow, I assure you I did not order my son to shut down production. I can’t imagine why he’d do such a thing. It’s just simple machinery parts. There must be an explanation.”

“Hmph. Perhaps young Sabre isn’t as trustworthy as you claimed him to be. Perhaps he found somepony else to do business with. I really should have sent a pegasus.”

“Now see here, we both know how the east coast perceives your kind. The ‘Enclave’ there made quite a mess of your people’s reputation.”

“As the Talons did for yours. If it wasn’t for the ‘New Canterlot Republic’ making up for it, I’d have sooner sent an earth pony or unicorn. Nevertheless, it’s clear you don’t know anything. As usual. Ta, ta.”

*****

Pierre let out an offended huff as the transmission ended. I stepped away from the door as it opened. “Oh, ah, who might you be?”

“Rosegold.”

“Crimson.”

I offered a claw and Sabre’s commendation. “We’re both here on behalf of your son.”

Pierre was an older copy of Sabre, equally handsome and far more mature. Elders weren’t my type, but I could still appreciate him. He read the writ carefully, then trotted to his desk.

“If I know Sabre…” Pierre took out a bottle of some sort of chemical and a cotton swab from his immaculate desk, and began dabbing the parchment. Crim and I blinked at each other as we saw a hidden message appear between the lines.

“Father, I can’t know for certain if my new acquaintance will reach you. I will make arrangements with a local mercenary as well. Cozy Glow is not producing windmills and water pumps. She is producing advanced combat robots. Thousands of them. We both know her ideology. She’ll exterminate everything on the west coast that isn’t a pony. Allow my companions to take you and the rest of our family to Tenpony in Manehattan. It will be safe there. I love you.”

The distress in the room was palpable. Pierre trembled as he sat back in his cushioned vinyl chair. Even Crimson audibly gulped. He may have lost his appetite for prostitutes, or wants the distraction more than ever.

“If this…” Pierre took a moment to steady his quivering beak. “If this is true, I need to make arrangements for a city-wide lockdown.”

“Not an evacuation?” I asked.

He shook his head. “They’d never understand the threat in time. There are two stables in the city besides 14, which obviously isn’t an option. We have lockdown plans in case of zebra invasion to use them for shelter. One is directly below this resort. The other is in the residential district.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Sir, I’ve seen the weaponry these things have. A stable door will not stop them.”

“That's all we have.” He rubbed his claws. “We’re not fighters, and we can’t all trek across the wastes. We trusted the Enclave to protect us, and so far they have, but if Cozy Glow has been cooking this up behind our flanks…”

Crim stepped up. “Look, I was hired to-”

Pierre snapped a claw at him. “I will triple my son’s offer. Remove Cozy Glow and stop what she’s planning. I’m not going anywhere. This is my home.”

“Establish peace talks with the Remnants.” Pierre did a double take towards me.

“Pardon?” he asked, bewildered.

I narrowed my gaze. “Establish peace talks with the Remnants. End hostilities with the zebras. And for Spirits’ sake, take down all of that damned propaganda. Agree to that, and we’ll handle Cozy Glow and her Assault-Mares.” I was banking on him being scared enough to look past centuries-old bigotry.

“It… won’t be that easy, but… I promise to try. I don’t share the hate, personally, but believe me, it runs deep.” He took my claw and shook it.

*****

In the meantime, we all deserved to relax for at least one night before throwing ourselves into another fire. Crimson went straight for the brothel, dosing up on Med-X beforehand. Washout and Purser went dancing. Slash and I dined at the Gourmand.

The meal was to die for. Steamed fresh produce, baked breads and pastries, an assortment of fine drinks, and prime cuts of various meats. After the barely nutritious slop served at that prison camp, I savored every morsel. Two courses in, I decided to order the mignon that Margarin had mentioned. It was prohibitively more expensive than everything else, so I expected it to be worth it.

A single bite in, something seemed off. I’ve eaten various meats in my life, and the texture and consistency of the filet didn’t match anything I’d ever bitten into. It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was delicious. My compliments to chef Falchion. Stopping a waiter, I asked what animal the meat was from.

“Chef’s secret, I’m afraid.” The waiter smiled behind their mask, apologized for the inconvenience, and went about their duties.

My curiosity undeterred, I offered a bite to Slash to get her opinion. Dragons, being carnivores, have a better tongue for identifying meats. Her expression as she chewed and swallowed did not inspire confidence. When she started to tremble, I got worried.

“What?” I whispered. “Do you recognize the animal?”

She looked up with fear and shame in her eyes. Her voice was barely audible. “It’s not from an animal.”

***** ***** *****

Footnote:
Welcome to Level 15!

Perk Added: Deplorable Delicacy! Gourmand Mignon is people! Now having the taste for it, you have the option to devour corpses. Dining on the dead will result in a temporary +3 increase to your Strength, Endurance, and Agility, but also a -2 to Intelligence, Charisma, and Luck, as well as a negative hit to your Karma.