Chapters Fallout Equestria: The Line
A scant two years ago the wasteland was saved when a small young mare named Littlepip activated the Gardens Of Equestria. Where once the land was dead and lifeless, infested with all sorts of raiders, thieves and other ne'er-do wells, Gardens was a colossal megaspell that sought to clean it all up.
It succeeded. Through arcane magic lost to time real green trees once again grew across Equestria. Verdant farmlands, rolling pastures of animals, azure skies and clear blue rivers. Equestria became a veritable paradise in the wastes. The only problem with Gardens was that it had a range. While Equestria rebuilds, other parts of Equus struggle. Where the ponies roam in a land of plenty, the world forgotten looks on in envy and anger.
Far to the West lies The Line. The old border between the Changeling Lands and Equestria proper, stretching from Vanhoover all the way to Acornage. Here, just beyond the border, numerous beasts and monsters and other horrible, intelligent things roam. They claw at the gates, begging for a slice of the Equestrian pie, locked into a prison of the what-was. They know that over the heavily guarded walls lies a land of infinite plenty, rife with riches. A gated paradise. A walled garden.
On that wall are the hoof full of ponies dedicated to keeping the greater Equestria safe. Volunteers known as ‘Linerunners’ patrol the walls and, the most dangerous monster hunters in Equestria, the ‘Waywatchers’, make sure nothing can get over it.
Things are unstable. There are fewer and fewer Linerunners to cover longer sections of the wall. On the radio, unsettling rumours of Waywatcher casualties are making their way back West..
The Line is changing. Ghoul ponies and free alicorns are an increasingly common sight: beings that need radiation to survive can find it here in plenty. Water caravans from the paradise out west seek irradiated water to slake their own ghoul and alicorn ponies. With the influx of new settlers comes opportunities, raiders, thieves, chancers, carpetbaggers and murderers. Here on The Line, ponies fight and die on the daily. They struggle, they overcome, they fail.
Because even if Equestria is changing?
War never changes.
Fallout Equestria: The Line
“The Great And Powerful Trixie’s Guide For How To Be A Showmare!” the cheery feminine voice in my ear chirped. I glanced back to my door, confirming it was locked, then back to the screen on my pipbuck. Trixie, as always, wore her usual starry cloak and hat. I thought those looked kind of silly. “So, if you’ve bought this, that means you’re interested in being like me! Because you want to be a showmare, and I’m the best showmare. So, you should be like me.”
I cuddled up beneath my blankets, hopefully hiding the pipbuck screen’s light from being seen beyond the door. My hoof found the volume knob and I feathered it until I could just barely hear the words.
“So, I’ll start off with congratulating you on your purchase. You helped fund my-” I hit the knob to fast forward. “-irst lesson. Presentation!” As the cerulean mare spoke, she threw her hooves in the air, and the stage around her exploded in confetti and lights. “No matter what, a showmare never lets anypony else upstage her! All the world, my little ponies, is a really big stage. But you? You’re not a player. You’re the star. Act like it.”
I cradled the pipbuck to my chest, my earbuds chirping more comforting platitudes into my ear. I am the star. I am the star! I repeated the mantra in my head as I held the tiny tricky mare on my leg.
That night, I slept with my mind on fire with ideas. For the first time in my life I felt like I had a purpose. Like there was a goal for me to strive for. I woke up the next morning with my cutie mark, and a very confused mother parading me all around town. Of course, I’d never tell anyone I slept through getting my own cutie mark, so I lied and said I was practising magic until I passed out.
A large five pointed star flanked by seven more smaller ones behind it. It was said unicorns have the power of the stars, and they use that power to cast their magic.
That’s what I told everypony, of course, but I was lying. It meant I was going to be a star.
I Am The Great And Powerful Trixie!
...actually, that isn’t true. I’m not really her. Trixie is just my stage name. When I was a foal my mother would lock me in the house with nothing but a terminal and old recordings of her shows. I got pretty good at magic copying her! I looked up to her, too. I had a naturally blue coat that looked like hers. My mane was kind of similar too, but mine is a stark white instead of mixed colours. I’ve heard it called ‘snow white.’ .I always wanted to be like her, so I thought: what better way to honour her memory than to take her name as my stage name?
It makes me happy too. I know it’s…kind of silly, but I feel like when ponies call me Trixie, I’m doing my part to make sure we don’t forget a bit of history; however small that bit is. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’m not going to tell you my real name.
I grew up in a small town on The Line, the border region of Equestria. I’m a twenty year old mare, I’m…relatively healthy, I guess? I ran the saloon with my mom for a few years once I was old enough. Sometimes I did magic shows but we’re too small to have a real stage so we just moved some chairs around to give me a big open space to perform. I usually only have the same three ponies drop by to watch. It’s fine but…I want to see a city. I want to perform for a real crowd, on a real stage, with real magic! Right now I’m…well, I’m not very good. I have a lot to learn.
I’m getting off track-- ugh, let me start again. So, there I was, another day scrubbing down empty shot glasses…
The sign above the door read ‘The Mats’. I never asked mom what that meant, but we always just called it ‘The Saloon’. It was the only one in town after all. Radiator had, at some point, been a town with the world's largest radiator. It had all the fanciness and pomp you would expect of a town with that claim to fame. That is to say: none at all.
There were maybe 15 families living in disparate homes. Small old world houses. Maybe forty ponies all together. Barring the rare trader, these were the only ponies I’d ever known. We also had a well. That’s about it.
Then a few weeks ago an alicorn showed up. We were absolutely terrified of her. The only radio in town, in the saloon, told us all about The Goddess’s alicorns. They were all super powerful creatures. They could make shields and teleport and were genocidal maniacs! For years, about the most dangerous thing in town was Ms. Longhoof’s hunting rifle, and then suddenly an alicorn shacks up with us. It’s not like we were going to tell her to leave either. I mean, she’s about twice as tall as any of us, so even without her magic she was super intimidating.
I almost had a heart attack when she stepped through the saloon doors that day.
“He-hi! Hello! Welcome!” I scrambled to get the words out, my ears drooping down in fear. I was staring down the visage of an alicorn, like the ghost of one of those ancient princesses. Her coat was a darker blue than mine, in fact everything about her was darker than me. She had a mane and tail of two colours, a light and dark blue. Both her mane and tail seemed to swirl with their colours.
She didn’t reply immediately, her long-legged form taking careful steps inside. I got a better look at her then, at her big feathered wings and a horn that’s long enough to use as a weapon. She stopped just in front of the bar and stared at me. Into me, more like. The alicorn had piercing, blue eyes.
I began to feel a little self-conscious, fidgeting on my hooves. It’s one thing to be gawked at by a crowd but when somepony is staring ‘into’ you like that it’s…different. “Are uh- are you gonna…buy anything?” I managed lamely, tucking my ears down.
She trotted up to me and positively loomed over me. Only a flimsy bar was between me and her now. “What…are you?” She prodded. Her voice was melodic, but also strangely confused. Like she was asking me directions.
That’s not how you introduce yourself to somepony. That’s not how you order something either. Goddesses this alicorn was weird! “...A pony?” I answered, equal parts confused and helpless. “No, a bartender.” She seemed unsatisfied, crinkling her nose. “I’m also a Taurus?” This got me nowhere and then I realized; She must have heard of my show. Oh! Trixie’s words rang in my ears. Presentation! She wanted me to introduce myself properly! Maybe Mayer Monty told her about me? Well either way!
I had been waiting for this moment my entire life. Somepony who didn’t already know who I was! I shot her a knowing smile, and I laughed. “Heard of me have you?” I threw my mane back dramatically. Sliding a hoof over the bar, I sidled up against it, shooting her a wink. “Well the rumours are true…”
I watched as her eyes widened. She was a rapt audience! My audience! My first real audience!
I couldn’t help myself. I climbed on top of the bar, spreading my fores wide and announced to the whole world: “I am the great and powerful Trixie!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. There was something like reverence on her face. It was deeply, deeply satisfying-- but then something else. She shrank back from me, her rump ‘thumping’ against the far wall. Her ears drooped.
This wasn’t reverence; this was fear.
My fores came up in an attempt to diffuse the situation and I nearly tumbled from the bar with the sheer speed I hopped down. “No-no-no Trixie didn’t mean to scare you!” I reassured her. Oh, this was bad. Trixie never scared away her audience by shouting too loudly! “I’m sorry! Please-- please stay Trixie will-- will let you see a show for free! You don’t even have to pay, okay? Uh-- what’s your name?”
It took her a couple moments to reply but eventually she managed a soft smile. “Moonbrand.” Her voice didn’t hold that strange wavering or confused sound now. “Sorry…you reminded me of somepony I knew a long time ago.” Her hoof covered her mouth as she suppressed a giggle.
I fished out a fresh glass in my magic and poured her a sparkelcola in apology. “Well- you must have known a very amazing ‘somepony’ then.” I joked. She returned it with another hoof-hidden giggle. She seemed to do that alot. It looked like I had succeeded in quelling her terror wherever it had come from.
She sat at the bar, hooves tapping against it as she took the cola in her magic and sipped gingerly from it. We shared an awkward smile and just like that I made my first friend from outside of town.
My mother, her name was Antlia but everyone else called her Auntie, never approved of me talking with Moonbrand. I’d finished my shift, and as I was leaving to go visit, I could just feel her staring daggers into my coat. “Alicorns are evil bastards,” she’d told me. “Facsimiles of ponies past. Nothing good can come from a counterfeit.”
Well, Moonbrand was good company at least, so I knew that wasn’t true.
My hoof thumped on her door. She’d taken up residence in an old trailer filled with electronics. Out here in the woods it was hard to get a decent radio signal but she’d rigged up a big antenna on top of her ‘house.’ You could see it from halfway down the road out of town. “Come in!” Came her cute voice, a pitch somewhere between foalish excitement and an attempt to sound casually interested.
It was a cosy little house. An old metal motor wagon trailer. One single room with all the walls filled with various electronic gizmos I could make hide nor hair of. She was currently working on a terminal, holding upwards of ten different screwdrivers in her magic. There was a subtle sensation of warmth here. As I learned later on, all those machines clumped together produced quite a bit of heat. Enough to stave off the chill of the mountainside. I politely sat behind her desk and cleared my throat.
“Hi Trixie! Sorry I’m a poor host. I can’t get this…mnngh!” All her tools clattered to the trailer floor as she, in one fell swoop, killed her magic and sighed. “This damn radio. I can’t pick up broadcasts from DJ-PON3 out here. I’d need one heck of an antenna…mmngh!” She threw her head back and sighed.
I shrugged my haunches casually. “Why’s that matter? We have our own news station.” Not that I didn’t understand the appeal. On good, clear days, you could pick up transmissions from Equestria proper. It was far from a reliable way to get news, but it was enough we weren’t completely in the dark about the Enclave-Alicorn war. That DJ was pretty funny too!
“Well,” she rested her chin on her hooves in thought. She squinted her eyes, probably trying to explain a nugget of alicorny wisdom in a way a shortlifer like myself might understand. “With my sisters moving here, I wanted to get a little relay station up and running. To give us a…some small connection to Equestria, still. That way we could have some connection to home even when we have to leave.”
“Have to leave.” I bit my inner lip as I repeated the words, ruminating on them. “For the radiation, right? After Gardens went off, The Line is one of the last places with ambient radiation in Equestria.”
She smiled at that. “You are well informed.” She clarified quickly. “Pardon me, it is just that most ponies here I have met seem to think I am some sort of demon from the past.”
“Folks on The Line are distrustful by nature.” I attempted to comfort her. “We lived here in relative peace for years, all of us unified by the common goal of ‘don’t let monsters from beyond the wall eat us’ and now there are giant radiation-eating alicorns powerful enough to take on twenty ponies themselves just plopping down in random towns. No offence, but change scares ponies. Don’t let us get to you.”
She stared at me quietly for a moment, her snout wavering as she formed a response. “I…do not eat radiation.” Her nose wrinkled and she tutted. Tutted! I’d never heard a ‘tut’ before. As if she was offended by the very idea.
I shrugged again. “But you get what I’m saying?”
The alicorn sighed and bit her inner lip. “I…suppose such rapid shifting of culture would destabilise the local region. Particularly if the populace is of a more conservative mindset.”
Pretending I understood, I kicked my chair back and balanced it on its back legs. Then, I caught the backrest in my kinesis spell, enveloping it in a subtle azure glow, and rested myself between magic and oblivion. “Well nopony should give you trouble here. I think we’re all too scared of you to try and kick you out.”
She shot me a look. “Do not do that, you will fall.” I didn’t listen and continued my dance with death, heedless of her warning. She didn’t press the issue. “Well, thank you for your hospitality, regardless, Trixie.” She dipped her head as she spoke.
I waved my hoof noncommittal. “Actually, I came to ask you a favour.” She arched an eyeridge at that. “I know we don’t know each other well but you’re the only pony I’ve ever met who looks like they’re good at magic, so…” I hooked a hoof behind my neck and gave it a nervous scratch. “I was wondering if you could teach me uh, you know, magic?”
Her ears dropped and she pulled away from me. Her muzzle turned, and she glared at me sidelong. I was not expecting that reaction. My confusion must have shown on my face, because she shook her head and apologised. “I’m sorry!” She was smiling, a forehoof brought up to rest on her temple. “This is just absurd, I can’t…” and then she laughed. She laughed!
“Oh.” I shrank. “Uh. Sorry.” Well, I knew I was impressing on her, and she probably had very important alicorny duties, but still! She didn’t have to be rude about it. Thankfully she was quick to assuage my doubts.
“No, no! Not that, not that. I just find it silly that you are asking me to teach you magic.”
More confused than ever, I responded with a simple “why?”
“Nevermind.” I tilted my head to the side with a quizzical expression but she continued on. “I would be glad to teach you all I know. All I ask in return is your continued company.”
“Of course!” I answered excitedly. “What kind of friend wouldn’t?”
Come to find out, alicorns do magic a lot differently than unicorns. They just know some spells. Like how I just know basic telekinesis. I didn’t pick up anything new I could do from her, but it was the first time I’d ever learned actual magical theory. I’d always be thankful for that.
There was no way I could do a shield spell, at least in its current form, and there was no way I’d ever be able to do that invisibility spell. At least, the way she was doing it I couldn’t. I learned a lot, though, and I filed what she taught me away in my mental ‘magic’ folder in case I could use it in another way. Innovation and improv is part of the showmare’s art, after all.
After two weeks of alicorn magic school Moonbrand and I were actually getting pretty close. I was getting pretty good at getting her to do that mouth-behind-hoof giggle and the townsfolk were getting pretty used to her. I guess at some point we all collectively decided ‘hey maybe a gigantic pony that’s super strong living here and helping defend the town’ isn’t too bad.
Sometimes I’d come by to trade her some irradiated water or food, and she’d trade me some non-irradiated water from her trips out to the forest spring. I hated going all the way out there to draw water. So, life was decent.
One day, we were travelling down the road out of town. I’d never left town but we weren’t supposed to be going far, just far enough away that if an errant magic shot sat something on fire it’d burn itself out before it caught the forest alight. Moonbrand was leading- then, she stopped us.
“Get off the road.” She commanded, in a deadly serious tone that I’d never heard from her.
I slinked off into a ditch, and she vanished. Her invisibility spell-- she didn’t really turn ‘invisible’ but it coated her body in something like clear water that let you see through her. If you really paid attention you could see that little shimmering, like water held up in a kinesis spell, but you’d have to know exactly what you were looking for.
The ponies charging up the road didn’t.
I’d buried myself in a bush, trying to focus on Moonbrand’s shimmering form, and caught sight of them. Five ponies, heavily armed in patchwork raider gear, chasing another. The one in front was slowing-- he was running uphill after all. Then a gunshot, .22 by the sound, and the lead pony fell.
“Where do you think you’re going, Tracker!?” One of the chasing ponies chuckled darkly as he trotted up by him, swaggering in his steps. “You think you can skip out on us, huh? Think you can bail on the Regulators?”
Tracker was an earth pony, and he looked like he’d been through hell. He had a scarred face, a big gash across his back, dried blood caked on his tan fur. “You bastards,” he coughed blood, rolling over onto his back. “We don’t do that. We don’t-- ugh, Shady will kill all you bastards for this!”
The pony who’d shot him snickered. “Shady ain't here.”
“True! Good. T’swhy I like you, Poker. You know the hand you’re dealt.” The trotting pony made a show of bowing his head low. “In this world-- we gotta know who we are, Tracker.” He turned back to the prone pony, who was staring silently at him. “You aint a hero. You’re just as bad as me.”
“No I ain’t.” he spat the words. The other pony answered with a gunshot. I watched in horror as Tracker’s skull burst open, and blood spilled on the ancient asphalt. I tucked my ears down, praying I didn’t just squeak in fear loud enough for them to hear.
I forced myself to get a look at the pony who’d just shot Tracker. A unicorn, grey of coat, amber of eye, thin of build. A six-gun cutie mark. I didn’t know why I was staring at him so hard-- it wasn’t like I was about to attack him out of revenge for this pony I’d never met, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking and I just knew I’d remember it. It seemed important.
“Fuck you!” He kicked Tracker’s corpse. “Huh!? Who's a coward now? Huh? Got nothing to say? No calling the boss now!?” He kicked again and again, until he was satisfied. He spit on Tracker’s face, and I heard him mutter “fucker,” under his breath.
“Mouse? We should go before the Radiator hunters track us down.” Poker, the beefy pony with the .22 battle saddle stood behind his boss. “Leave him for the vultures. Shame the idiot got himself killed on that last raid.” The gang behind him, other raiders dressed in shabby barding, seemed to be watching the trees warily I’d just noticed. If they only knew an alicorn was standing just beside them.
‘Mouse’ sighed and nodded. “Yeah let’s get. See if one of them water caravans is in the area.” He turned and shook his head. “I got some steam to blow off.” With that, the gang turned and followed Mouse back down the mountain.
I stared at the corpse in the road for several seconds. I’d only seen dead animals before. A pony, and meeting such a violent end…I couldn’t believe it. I was just, I was about to have a good day and now my day was ruined! Then I immediately felt bad for feeling bad. By the corpse’s vacant expression, I wasn’t having the worst day.
Moonbrand came out of her spell in front of him. She turned to my hiding place. “Go back. Get the doctor. I need a stretcher if she has it.” She commanded in a calm tone.
“But-” I began to protest, but she withdrew a healing potion from her saddlebags, and some surgery equipment.
“He is still alive.” She answered. “Quickly!”
I ran as fast as I could.
Moonbrand worked miracles, I knew that. She could cast a shield strong enough to take a missile launcher, she claimed, and I believed it. This was something different. This wasn’t magic, this was practical knowledge, skill, and experience. For three days I sat with her in the local clinic, the front half of Mr. and Mrs. Birch’s townhouse, while she and Mrs. Birch brought a pony back from the dead.
I will spare the details. Suffice it to say, the angelic patience displayed in piecing together a ponies’ skull like one of those thousand piece puzzles was equal parts fascinating and disgusting to me.
“That should do it.” Moonbrand spoke softly as she telekinetically placed her tweezers back on the surgery table. “I thank you once more, Mrs. Birch, for allowing me the use of your facilities.”
The unicorn had ‘plomped’ her flank down into a wheelchair she’d scooted up by Tracker’s bed. “Whew. It’s my job, thank a mare for doing her job and it’ll just go to her head.” She yawned wide. “I don’t think he’ll make it though. Fella’s been put through the ringer, I tell you what.”
“Mm.” Moonrand agreed. “It is our duty as medical professionals to try nonetheless.” She had bags under her eyes and she looked like she’d nearly pass out.
Birch shook her head in the negative. “There’s triage to consider, miss. We burn potions and bandages on this fella, the next colt that gets jumped by a yao guai might not have enough.”
Moonbrands’ eyes had closed. I wondered if she fell asleep. “I swore an oath to help if I can, whenever I can. I apologise if I have--”
“Oh don’t give me that.” Mrs. Birch whinnied. “Keep second guessing yourself and you’ll get decision paralysis, and given how skillfully you just pulled that stallion’s skull fragments outta his brain, I’m guessing you know just how bad that is for a surgeon.” Moonbrand was silent in response.
She wheeled her chair around to face me. “Have you told your momma where you've been, filly?”
“I- I’m twenty years old, I’m not a--” She silenced me with the thousand yard stare of a veteran medical pony who had her share of dealing with unruly patients. “Besides, I wanted to…help.”
Her expression softened a bit. “I delivered you. You’re always gonna be a filly to me.” She yawned wide and I saw age creep back into her eyes for just a moment. “Besides, there’s not much more anypony can do for ‘em now. Your friend here did some fine doctorin’ I tell you what.” She threw her horn over her shoulder. Behind her, I witnessed Moonbrand lay down. She rested her head on the simple old dirty cotton rug beneath the surgery table like it was a mattress made of clouds, and she was out like a light.
“Can I…? Stay here? I want to keep her company.” Mrs. Birch fixed me with an incredulous look. “It’s just…she wouldn’t have been out there if it wasn’t for me, and he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her, so in a way-” I kept going though I could feel myself digging a hole and then I just didn’t stop digging. “I’m responsible for them both?” She arched an eyeridge. Mrs. Birch had a way of making me feel like I was still that little filly asking her to clean a cut on my forehead.
“Tell your momma where you’re at and I’ll let you stay the night.” I leapt up and hugged her.
I’d managed to drag Moonbrand off that dirty rug and onto a couch, Mr. Birch fed us some pheasant meat pie, and we’d well and truly passed out.
I was woken up by a male’s voice, deep and accented. A voice I honestly hadn’t expected I’d ever hear again. “Where the hell am I?!” It was shouted loud enough that it felt like it shook the walls of the house. Moonbrand was already up. I caught sight of her tail rounding the corner into the surgery room. I followed quickly after.
“Easy, easy. You’re safe.” Moonbrand spoke with measured calmness, her bedside manner practised and professional. “My name is Moonbrand. You were found dead on the road leading up to Radiator. You were just not very dead.”
The pony, Tracker, had eyes as wide as saucers. He couldn’t decide between looking at her, me, the sun, or himself. His hoof went upwards, pressing into the fresh surgery scar on his forehead. He traced it around…it nearly went half the circumference of his head. “Luna’s lights…” his head fell back into the pillow. He stared skyward. “Uh, thank you. Before I forget. You must have--”
“Don’t waste your energy thanking me.” Moonbrand returned, sternly. “You must focus on recovery. I do not know how long it will be until you are recovered. You will stay in bed and--”
“Too long either way. I feel fine now.” He shook his head softly. His hoof pressed against the scar still, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. “I gotta leave now. I need to deliver a message to my boss.”
“That is quite impossible,” Moonbrand reprimanded. “You should not be alive right now. You need to stay and recover. If you leave now you will certainly die.” He was quiet for a moment. She continued. “I can not have you ruining all my hard work now, can I?”
Though his eyes were dark he managed a small smile.
I butted in. “Where do you need to go?” I considered asking about the message, but I wasn’t about to poke into a raider’s business. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what this guy was.
He turned to look at me. He had silver eyes that would look quite pretty in different lighting. “Libertalia.”
“The city!?” I nearly shouted. “Can you take me with you? I’ve always wanted to see the city! I want to go to a real city with lots of ponies-- and put on the best magic show they’ve ever seen, and…and…” Both ponies regarded me with strange expressions. I had, perhaps, spoken a little out of turn. My ears fell.
“Not taking passengers. Sorry.” He moved to climb out of bed, weary on his hooves. He almost tumbled before Moonbrand caught him.
“Easy!” She reiterated. “You’re dehydrated, starving, and weak. You’re lucky if you can make the hike to the door, much less the hike down the mountain.” He looked like he wanted to fight her on it, but an alicorn twice the size of him is more than a match for a malnourished earth pony. He was quite easily planted back in bed. “You will stay right here. I will fetch you food and drink. Do not get up.” She turned on her hooves, slapping him across the cheek with her tail as she went.
Sensing his defeat, I watched the tan earth pony fall back into bed and stare at the ceiling. “She’s a character.” He snickered. I took the time to pull up the wheelchair beside his bed. He grimaced as I parked it.
“Sooo,” I spoke in a sing-songy voice. “Who are the Regulators?”
His eyes shot open and he fixed me with a worried expression. “You were there. You saw--” I shrank as he spoke, I was about to start rapid firing apologies before he cut himself off. “No, no. I’m not about to start blaming you for not taking on five or six raider ponies on your own. You were very brave. You did right hiding. Shows good judgement.” He fell back into his pillow and chuckled. “That explains why you’re here by my bed. You must have been the one to carry me back here.”
I found myself biting the inside of my cheek. Just like that I saw two choices lay themselves before me. I could tell the truth, tell him that it was Moonbrand who carried him back here, but then he wouldn’t feel like he owed me anything. If I wanted him to take me with him I’d need leverage. I needed to lie. He needed to owe me specifically. It was a longshot too, I might not even get anywhere doing this, but I had to try. This was my chance to leave without sneaking out of town in the middle of the night and immediately walking right into a raider ambush.
Sorry, Moonbrand. “Yeah! Well, dragged more like, you’re heavy.” He chuckled softly and shrugged his haunches in a ‘sorry’ gesture. “So…in a way…” I continued on, carefully gauging his reaction. “You…owe me?”
The disgust on his face was almost tangible. He bared his teeth and shook his head. “No.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna say ‘oh, you can make it up to me by taking me to Libertalia.’ Because that won’t happen.”
Out of options, my prospects increasingly hopeless, I played the one card I had left. “Pretty please?” I asked in a wavering voice.
His eyes never left mine. “Celestia’s flaming arse-- fine!” He snorted through his nostrils. “Then you’re gonna get shot in the flank by some drugged out junkie, and you’re gonna bawl your little eyes out and beg me to take you back. Then, when that happens, I will say ‘I told you so.’ That’s if that shot doesn’t find your head and I don’t think between the two of us we’re getting lucky again. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“I don’t think you do.” His hooves were weak but he still managed to slam them down in frustration. “You’re asking me to take you out of a relatively safe, stable town. A little oasis of civilization in hell. Radiator hunters are good pony-folk. Keep to themselves, keep themselves safe, nopony bothers 'em. Out there it’s a lot worse. Folk killin’ folk just for fun. Just for a laugh, for food, cause somepony else told ‘em too. You got ponies out there who’ll kill you in a bad way just for lookin at' em funny, and you got the ponies who’d make you wish a mare like you was dead instead.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze. I found myself looking at the floor. He had ranted hard enough that he was panting now. “I know.” I whispered quietly. “I spend a lot of time listening to the radio. I know it can be bad. I know I might-- I might die.” I swallowed. “But I can’t stay here. It’s like…like I’m trapped here. If I leave on my own the minute I step off the mountain I’ll be grabbed by a slaver gang. My mom would never let me go either.”
He had propped himself up on a knee. “Well, you told me why you can’t leave. Why do you want to? I’ll need something more substantial than ‘I feel trapped.’”
I racked my brain. I considered lying again, but honestly, I felt it better to be truthful here. Painfully, completely truthful. I swallowed and fessed up. “I don’t want to die here.” He cocked his head to the side. “If I don’t leave then I’ll die here. Eventually, I’ll grow old in the same home I’ve lived in my entire life. I’ll see my mom die, I’ll see my friends die. I’m the youngest by far. Everypony else in town will die before me, and it’s not like there’s enough ponies here to keep it going. There’s no future here, just…old hunters, old ponies clinging to the past. Then I’ll be the last one in a ghost town. Then I’ll die too.”
He seemed taken aback at that. He pursed his lips in thought. “Shit, kid.” He rolled onto his back and sighed. “I was hoping for something like ‘I wanna see the world’ or something so I could make fun of you and tell you that you’re stupid, but hell.” He was quiet for a moment, then threw his head back into his pillow. “Alright damnit fine! Oh this ain't gonna end well, but--” I was already hugging him by ‘well’
At Moonbrand’s exhaustive insistence Tracker had taken a week to recover. “But no more than a week,” I recalled him promising. I made sure to pop in at least once a day, both to remind him of me and to poke his brain for information about the outside world. He was tight lipped, unfortunately, and still spent most of my visits trying to get me to reconsider. It’s hell out there, I will die horribly, I will wish I was dead, yadda yadda yadda.
I’d lived in this place my whole life and never sat hoof out of town before. I wasn’t going to get another chance at this. If I did die horribly to a raider in a backwater ruin in the middle of nowhere, at least I’d die doing something.
Finally, the day came. I met with Tracker at the appointed time, early morning right before my shift at the Saloon. He was leaning against an old house ruin at the edge of town. “Told your folk you were leaving?” His travelling gear was pretty simple. Leather barding, and a revolver mouth holstered on his front leg. His armour looked new.
I know I started my journey by lying to him but I wasn’t going to make a habit of that. “No,” I admitted. “I told you, mom will never let me go if I’m honest. I’m sneaking out.”
He stepped back, glancing downwards and sizing me up. “That’s it?”
Confused, I looked over my shoulder in case I was missing something. I couldn’t see anything, besides the small huddle of buildings behind me that formed Radiator’s main drag. “That’s what?” I turned back to him, tilting my head quizzically.
“Ugh.” He brought a forehoof to his forehead, rubbing the half-head scar. “No saddlebags? No barding? No gun?”
“I uh…don’t have any of that stuff.”
His head fell back against the ruined wall and I mentally braced myself for the oncoming onslaught of ‘you are going to dies’ “Okay.” He forced himself to speak, his eyes still closed. “Go get some. Get a gun, get saddlebags. You’re in the wasteland, those things practically grow on trees.”
I was about to ask how but his hoof raised up to stop me. “I don’t know. I don’t care how. Steal it, buy it, rob it, borrow it. Consider this your initiation into wasteland survival school: find some gear.”
My first mission and it was a heist from the only people I’d ever known. Great. “I’ll wait here.” He confirmed, plopping down at the foot of the old house. He withdrew a cigarette from his own saddlebags and lit it up in his teeth. “Dhant worry. Ahn’t ghonna leaff.”
Well, that assuaged one of my worries at least. “Thank you,” I turned back to my hometown. I already had a little plan in mind.
First thing was first, one final trip home.
My mother and I had never gotten along very well. Just about the extent of ‘motherly love’ from her was showing me how to use my pipbuck because she was the only other pony in town with one. I couldn’t recall ever really learning anything from her, unless it had to do with taking care of the saloon. Ms. Longhoof taught me how to disassemble and clean her rifle, Mrs Birch taught me how to splint my own leg if I ever got hurt in the forest, Moonbrand taught me everything she knew about magic.
My mother taught me how to clean glasses with my kinesis spell.
She’d never been mean to me or anything. She never abused me, but even so, she always felt more like a decent work friend than a real mother figure. As I flanked-bumped the door to her bedroom open, I imagined her hoof-tapping the bar, waiting for me to show up for my shift, so annoyed that I was going to be late again. I allowed myself a small measure of satisfaction as I imagined her having to be the one cleaning from now on.
I found my prize. Beneath the bed, mother’s old ‘wasteland wanderin’ saddle bags’, as she called them. Old, fixed up with patch leather, but hard wearing and unlikely to break. They’d do. I drew them out and draped them over my flanks as I’d seen her do. They were a little big on me, but I could tighten them later. I turned to leave then-- stopped.
The soft glow of her terminal called to me like a siren.
A memory flashed in my head. Mom had a lot of Trixie’s old shows recorded on here, as well as that ‘So you want to be a Showmare?’ series. She’d been so mad at me the one time I hooked my pipbuck up to it I’d been grounded for a week. There was always the promise, though. “If you’re good,” she would say, “I might let you see another show.”
Well, if I was leaving anyway, I’d love to see her ground me once I’m all the way in Libertalia. I unlatched the connector cord on the back of my pipbuck and connected. I knew exactly what files I wanted. I did a quick search for anything prefixed with ‘Trx’ and downloaded it all. The little marvel of stable-tec engineering on my forehoof grabbed everything in ten seconds flat.
The sheer amount of Trixie content I just shoved into my pipbuck made me giddy! Oh mare of the moon, I might need to find a wasteland hotel and rent a room for weeks just to see them all! I pushed the thought out of my head for now-- giddy explorations into the greatest and most powerful unicorn to ever live would have to wait.
Objective one completed, onto objective two.
The next stop was my own room. I had saved up a few caps from my shifts. Mother garnished half my wages for ‘rent’ ever since I was old enough to start working, but the rest was mine to do whatever I wanted with. I mostly spent it on exotic food traders brought in but I had a decent little emergency fund of 130-something caps tucked in my mattress. They were placed squarely into my saddlebags.
That should do for something small and the ammo for it. I turned to leave-- then I realised I had another problem. If I showed up in the store looking for a gun out of the blue Mr. Bowler would have questions I couldn’t answer. I’d need somepony to buy it for me. I only had one pony I trusted enough to.
Moonbrand was in her home. She’d been there for days, since Tracker made it quite clear he didn’t want to be doted on, she’d thrown herself back into her work on the radio. She didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. “Moonbrand?” I knocked on the trailer door. I witnessed her magical aura take hold of the entire thing and fling it upwards.
“Trixie, welcome.” She trotted up to me, a big smile on her face. “Why are you not at your shift? Did you get a day off?”
“Nevermind that,” I replied evasively. “I need you to buy me a gun. I have the caps, I just don’t want Mr Bowler to see…”
Moonbrand was a very smart pony and I was not a very practised liar. She immediately sniffed me out, both my reasoning and my method. “You are leaving with Tracker.” She accused, not in anger but disappointment. Somehow that felt worse. “You do not want anypony else to know.”
“...Was it that obvious?” I sheepishly shrugged. “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you but you’d try to stop me, you’d tell me what everypony else told me. That this is my home and that I--”
“I want to go with you.”
Her interjection caught me off guard. I took a step back on instinct. “Hu- wha?” I stuttered like an idiot. “But you could get hurt!”
She fixed me with a look of incredulity so absurdly strong it might have borne a hole through both me and the back of her trailer. For all I knew, maybe alicorns could do that.
“That is far less likely than you getting hurt.” She responded in her matter-of-fact tone that was somehow both extremely correct and extremely gentle. Like a doctor speaking to a dying patient. Goddess, that mental image didn’t bode well. “I would like to stay by my friend’s side to stop you from getting hurt.”
Her reasoning was that simple. Logically, I had no way to argue against it. Emotionally I wanted to scream at her and tell her that I didn’t want the possibility of her getting hurt on my conscience. Logically, she was an alicorn and there was pretty much no chance of anything hurting her beyond a steel ranger with power armour. Emotionally, I still felt guilty about it.
I could have stopped then. Right there was my last chance. I could have apologised to my mom, gone home and taken the punishment, and Moonbrand and I could have lived out the rest of our lives on that little mountain.
“Okay.” I said instead. I jumped up to wrap a little hug around one of her big forelegs. “Tracker’s out by the road. He’s waiting on me.”
I have to say, I think I completed my first mission pretty well. I got the saddlebags, I got entertainment for the road, and I got a gun. Only, it was a laser pistol, and there was an alicorn wielding it. He didn’t say I had to be holding the gun, after all.
“You coming too?” Tracker was less shocked about seeing Moonbrand than I would have liked. He was still relaxing against the ruin wall, almost finished with his cigarette.
Moonbrand nodded. She was lacking in barding herself, but I supposed her invulnerable magic shield made it a bit redundant. All she had was a pair of saddlebags carrying all sorts of, and forgive me for my technical terms here, ‘doohickies’ and ‘gizmos’ that I could make hide nor hair of. I guessed they were surgery and science equipment. “If it’s all right.” She replied simply.
“Shoot, suits me well, miss.” He shrugged and chuckled. “I ain’t gonna turn my nose up at an extra gun. Speaking of,” he stood up and stretched. “Where’s yours, Trixie?”
I suddenly felt much less confident he’d let me get off on the technicality I planned. “I uh…” I glanced around nervously. “Can you buy it for me?” I sheepishly levitated my bag of bottle caps in front of him. “If I buy it, then the owner will ask what I want it for, and…I’m not supposed to be leaving so…so, you know. Please?”
He bit the bag out of the air and walked back towards town with the most ‘I can not believe this’ energy I’d ever seen a stallion walk with.
Tracker came back shucking an old, crappy pipe gun onto the ground, and a box of ammo for it, as well as another box marked ‘surplus.’ Now, I was not an expert on handling firearms. I could clean them and I could take them apart and put them back together decently enough, thank you Ms. Longhoof, but shooting them was new to me.
Even so, as I regarded this absolute travesty of a firearm I wondered if I’d just be better off throwing rocks at any bad ponies we’d come across. It did not have a magazine to speak of and it barely had a barrel. The best I could tell, it would fire a bullet in more-or-less the correct direction if you prayed to Celestia hard enough, pop out its action, and then you’d load another bullet into the receiver directly. I’m being generous with the word ‘receiver.’ It was, in fact, a literal pipe. Not rifled, slapped onto a piece of wood with a trigger hastily jammed in there. There were no sights, the ‘grip’ was just a piece of square wood, and the single-shot action-- ahem, ‘action’ seemed to run on the power of hopes and dreams.
“You have got to be kidding me.” I picked up the-- the ‘thing’ up in my kinesis. I hesitate to call it a gun. It was more like a filly’s drawing of a gun come to life. “You bought me this dinky little peashooter!?”
He shrugged. “I need to know you won’t start fanning the trigger the minute you see somepony that looks to do you harm and accidentally blast me in the flank. At least with this, you shoot off accidentally, you’re only shooting once.”
I looked aghast! “I’m…familiar with the care and handling of firearms.” I tried to sound confident but I just ended up sounding like I was begging him to take me seriously.
“Mhm. Bag the gun, Tricky.”
“Trixie.”
“That’s what I said.”
I felt like I was going to cry as I slid the thing into my saddlebags. I was doomed.
“I think it is a cute little firearm. Rustic, in a way.” Moonbrand snickered behind her hoof. I further despaired that my gun could ever be imagined as ‘cute’
Tracker stepped between the pair of us and cleared his throat. “Alright, once we step out into the wastes, I want one thing to be clear between all of us. When we’re in combat, what I say goes. Do not second guess me, do not hesitate. Follow my orders instantly and we’ll be fine. You second guess me,” Tracker looked directly at me as he spoke. “You die. I die. Moonbrand dies. From here on out, we count on each other. I need your assurance that I can count on you.”
“You have it.” I responded squarely.
“You too,” he turned to Moonbrand. “I don’t know how alicorns fight, but you’re part of a team now. If you’re used to running off on your own, you need to check that right here. You stay with us.”
Moonbrand simply smiled. “Of course. My reason for being here is to protect you both, after all. I would not abandon you.” He fixed her with a stare. Tracker had this amazing ability to not be intimidated by Moonbrand’s sheer size, I noticed. She was nearly twice his body mass. Was he sizing her up? “And I will do as you say in combat,” she added after a pause, meeting his gaze with the calm confidence of a professional.
Tracker nodded and threw his mane over his head. “Alright then, let’s set out. I’ll walk in front, you two behind me.”
Moonbrand cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she piped up. “I have a very strong shield spell. Logically, I should be in front, so if I am targeted first you can take cover behind me.”
“I need to be out in front.” He said, matter-of-factly. He brought his hoof up to his scar-- no, to his eyes. “I got a special talent, you see. Let me use it.” Moonbrand and I shared a look and we both shrugged.
“Very well.” The alicorn relented. “Then, I ask if Trixie can stay formed up close to me just in case, or must we space out?”
Tracker shrugged his haunches and turned on his hooves.
Thus, we were off. Moonbrand and I fell in step behind the stallion and I’d left my home for the first time in a ragtag band of ponies I’d met less than a month before. I remember reading an old book once. It said, ‘the beginning of sea voyages were always times of invigorating optimism’ or some such along those lines. This wasn’t exactly a sea voyage, but I found myself feeling strangely hopeful.
At my side were two companions, one of whom I even called a friend, and before me was a road leading to my destiny. I had left my own world behind and entered a completely new one. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little excited to see how it turned out.
Then again, I was nervous too. Tracker’s warnings were fresh in my mind but so were Trixie’s teachings. Presentation .
I cocked my head to the side, shot a confident smile at nopony in particular, and strode boldly forward into the unknown.
Showtime.
Footnote: Level One
Trait Gained- Skilled: You are skilled but not experienced. Gain +5 to every skill, but you suffer -10% to experience point gain whenever experience points are earned.
Spell Gained- Showmare’s Smoke: deploy a smoke screen that heavily obscures the area around you. Very short range.
Fallout Equestria: The Line
2- Wasteland Survival School
“So, I been thinkin’”
Tracker’s voice cut through my earbuds. I withdrew one, pausing Trixie’s voice on my pipbuck. We’d stopped at a crossroads in the woods, large and looming trees on every side of us. They did at least shield us from the wind somewhat, but I was really starting to feel the chill out here. “About?” I returned.
“Thinkin about what’d happen to you if I died.”
I stopped in my tracks, fixing the stallion in front of me with my gaze. Moonbrand turned his way too, tilting her head quizzically. “Now, don’t give me that look.” Tracker preempted her. “I’m not so fatalistic right now. I’m just asking what you would do.” He pointed to me with a forehoof. “If’in there was a sniper up in one of these trees and he took my head off, and you had to run off into the woods to get away.”
The question hadn’t crossed my mind. We’d scarcely started on our journey, after all. “I…guess I’d go back home.” I answered with a defeated shrug.
“Say you couldn’t find your way back.” Tracker threw a forehoof over his back, pointing out the thick lines of trees around us. “Say you get lost. Out here, more likely than not.”
I stayed quiet. It seemed like he had something to say, after all. “So, I was thinkin’ I oughta teach you how to live off the land. Take care of yourself in the woods if something were to happen.”
I nodded in understanding. “I suppose there’s no harm in it.” Although the Trixie in me mentally screamed at devoting my time to learning something ‘not’ magical, I was admittingly a little excited to be learning anything at all.
“Good. What are those?” With his pointing hoof, he shifted it to a copse of thin trees off the path. They kind of reminded me of the old picture of a dairy cow we had hanging above the bar. Black and white spotted.
“...Trees?” I answered with mounting confusion.
“Birch trees.” Tracker hopped off the path and strode amidst the black and white bark. “Let’s camp here for the night. Moonbrand, can you fetch us some firewood?”
She hesitated for just a moment before she spoke. “Should we? If there are hunters from Radiator following us…”
I shook my head. “I doubt it. Mom will assume I’m off gallivanting in the woods with you for a few days.” Mentally, I added ‘which wouldn’t technically be untrue.’
She shrugged her haunches. “Very well. I will return shortly.” She cast her invisibility spell before stepping off into the growing darkness beneath the trees. I supposed there was nothing to be afraid of in the dark when you could do that.
“Chehk dish out.” Tracker grasped one of the smaller tree branches, and ripped it from the tree. It fell. “Birch wood doesn’t burn well enough for a fire, too fast and gives off too little heat, but it’s a good tinder.” As he spoke, he dug the knife into the branch and began to shave off the bark. “But that’sh not the coolest part! Shee, birch bark- see this red dust here?”
I leaned in to take a look at what he was showing me. There was indeed a reddish dust! “Sho, you collect the dust. Shtow it in a tin cup. Fetch one outta my pack here, would you?” He wriggled his hindquarters. I could have done without the display, but I grasped where he indicated in my magic and withdrew a tiny tin coffee-mug looking cup.
Tracker guided me through shaving off the dust, which was much easier in my magic. “And then-”
He was interrupted by a loud ‘snap!’ coming from deeper into the woods. He jumped up, his mouth on the grip of his revolver, as the snaps got louder. Snap, snap, crack! Louder, louder, and then I saw the vague outline of a tree against the darkening woods fall. It slammed into the forest floor with a loud ‘floomph’ noise.
The stallion kept his mouth on his gun until Moonbrand made her way back to our little campsite with several freshly chopped logs on her back. “I did not know how much you wanted so I took a tree. Is this enough?”
Tracker muttered something about being glad we weren’t followed. I didn’t ask how she brought the tree down.
Then, he taught me how to build two different types of campfires. When you could light a spark from your horn, the hardest part you got to cheat on. So, I learned the simple campfire. Tinder to catch the spark, fuel to burn and accelerant if a fire is needed urgently. Like if you’re freezing. Keep the wood dry, watch the wind. Simple enough. Thanks to Moonbrand’s generous amount of firewood collected we had more than enough for me to practise on.
I also learned about a ‘Dakota’ style campfire, which involved building it underground and giving it an extra airway. In that way, one could construct a campfire to give off heat without the smoke or too much light giving your position away. Useful, if I ever needed to hide.
I learned all of this with a bellyful of Birch tea. It tasted like mint! Who knew you could eat trees?
After a summary lesson on watch rotation, and Moonbrand taking the first, Tracker retired to his bedroll with a contented smile. I’d noticed it through the early hours of the night, he seemed to really like teaching me this stuff. And..selfishly, it felt kind of…nice? Nice, that is, to have an older pony be proud of me. Well, I was glad I did a good job.
Of course, if Tracker is listening to this, I mean ‘old’ in the most respectful sense of ‘wise’ and ‘learned.’ Not ‘weak’ or ‘slow,’ perish the thought.
Sleeping under the stars wasn’t completely new to me. I’d been out on hunts before, though rarely, and had to do what Ms. Longhoof called ‘roughin’ it’ and sleep in a bedroll. Still, this was the first time I’d slept without a group of at least four veteran hunter ponies keeping watch around me. I have to say, I do not enjoy ‘roughin’ it’. Given the choice, I’d much rather have my hooves up in a big comfy old world bed. That said, the warm tea in my belly helped keep out the chill. It was comfier than I’d thought it would be.
Tracker had taken the last watch of the night which meant he was responsible for waking us up. As I awoke to the morning sun, I’d noticed a curious glint of glass placed on one of Moonbrand’s felled logs. Oh I'd seen a plinking line before! “Shooting practice?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes with a forehoof and yawned wide.
“Among other things. Fish your gun out.” Tracker had taken the liberty of setting up four old trash bottles in a line. “Before we head out today, I want to see what you can do. Just take a few shots so I can see your form. No pressure.”
Moonbrand had already roused and trotted up next to me. “Perhaps a laser weapon would be better for her? They are superior, both in technology and effectiveness. Not to mention ease of use and lacking bullet travel time to account for over long distances.”
Tracker looked like she’d just insulted his mother. “Please.” He rolled his eyes. “Lasers can’t pierce hardened armour. Not to mention the lack of varied ammo. That’s if you can find any ammo in the first place.”
Moonbrand was quick to reply. “You also need less in the first place; if your aim is good. Which, combined with the lack of recoil and literal lightspeed projectile travelling, it is very likely to be. Combustion weapons are, frankly, a waste of effort.”
“Yeah, okay.” The sarcasm dripped off his tongue like tar. “And when the crystals shatter because you couldn’t find any spare parts? Because nopony stocks laser weapons in a goddamned wasteland!”
“Fillies!” I interjected, hovering my peashooter out of my saddlebags. “Why can’t I just try both out and see which I like better?”
The pair shared a look. “If she wants to let you borrow hers…” Tracker began.
Moonbrand quickly replied. “I would be happy to.”
“Right.” Tracker rolled his eyes so hard I was worried they were in danger of falling out of their sockets. “Take your stance here.” He stood around thirty feet from the bottles and drug his hoof through the dirt. “You too, Moonbrand.”
Moonbrand bit her lip. “I know how to fire my weapon.” She was quick to respond, but she did as she was told, standing beside me along the little line Tracker had drawn. “I do not see what-”
“Quiet.” The stallion commanded, stepping off to the side. “You said you would follow my orders in combat? Consider this training for that, then.”
Moonbrand nodded. “Very well.”
“Alright.” Tracker cleared his throat. “Trixie, you first.”
I stepped up, drawing my peashooter up in my kinesis. I loaded one of the surplus rounds and aimed, levitating it in front of my right eye. It felt strangely awkward in my magical grip. As I said, I had basic training with guns, but I never owned a gun of my own before. The last time I’d been hunting was when I was a teenager. I exhaled and squeezed the trigger in my magical grip.
‘Pop!’ answered my gun as the bullet whizzed out, striking a tree off to the side, well away from my intended glass prey. “Damnit!” I cursed, grinding my teeth.
“It’s fine. Adjust the sights and try again.” Tracker’s words were calm and patient but my cheeks were burning with embarrassment.
“It doesn’t have any sights!” I blurted out an excuse as I fumbled the load, dropping the kinetically lifted bullet to the ground below. I cursed myself again. Goddess I’d hoped to impress him!
Tracker, though, was cool as ice. “Then adjust your point of reference.” I swore I could see him smirking. “Calm down. Elevated heart rate will throw your aim off. I said no pressure, didn’t I?”
“Perhaps the Coriolis effect blew your simple bullet off course?” Moonbrand joked, earning a glare from our instructor. I appreciated the little levity at any rate. Something else to focus on besides my crippling inadequacy.
Right. Calm down. Don’t overthink it, it’s just like a game. Just a shooting gallery with friends. I inhaled softly, aimed at using the spot at about where the last bullet veered off to as reference. I fired again.
‘Pop!’ and another miss as it ‘thwacked’ into a different, unlucky tree. Closer to the bottle, less egregious of a miss, just as infuriating. I snorted through my nostrils.
Tracker wasn’t making fun of me at least. “Not bad. Again.”
“Not bad?” I focused on the load, racking back the single-shot action to load in another surplus round. “I missed twice.”
“It’s a shitty, dinky, little pipe gun. Of course you’re gonna miss.” His words were reassuring if not eloquent. “You flinch before you fire. Try to get out of that habit. I know it’s loud, but as long as it’s pointed away from you, don’t be scared of it.”
I was flinching? I hadn’t even noticed. I drew my peashooter up again, aimed, and-- “Hold it.”
I looked downwards. I was doing that, yes. “So?” I shrugged. “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to shoot?”
“With a rifle.” Tracker trotted up to me and tapped my forehooves with his own. “With a hoof-gun, you wanna have your fores close together and align it with your centre of gravity when you fire. Easier shot that way. Closer. There, about there.” He drew a cigarette from his pack in that strangely earth-pony way with only a single hoof. He took a seat off to the side of our little firing line. “With a rifle, the wider your stance, the less off-balance weight you have to compensate for with your telekinesis.”
Moonbrand chuckled. “You are surprisingly well-versed in kinesis-gripped weapons-use.”
Tracker shrugged his haunches. “She ain't the first unicorn I’ve taught. General rule of hoof? Bigger the weapon, wider the stance. Fire when ready.”
I did my little ritual after assuming the stance I’d been taught. Exhale, breathe, focus on the shot. ‘Pop!’ I heard a ‘ting’ as my bullet jostled the centermost bottle, bouncing off of it but not shattering it. “Damnit!” I’d missed again!
I didn’t need to be told to load another round. Tracker looked on with professional detachment as I took aim once more. Oh, it wasn’t gonna get away from me this time, the little glass demon. I took aim once more in Tracker’s stance and fired. This time, I was answered by the bottle shattering in two. “Yes!” I shouted, nearly leaping in excitement as I looked at Tracker with a wide grin on my face.
“Good!” He chuckled softly. “If you ever need to take on mutant bottles that sit still and glare at you, I think you have it in the bag.” Shaking his head he strode up beside us. “Moonbrand, stand beside her. You’re up now.”
“Very well. Although, please keep in mind, my supply of energy cells is limited.” Moonbrand warned, drawing out her laser pistol. I’d never taken a look at it before. Black frame, chrome front. It looked kind of uninteresting, as strange as it is to say, just like a black rectangle on a trigger.
“Gimme a second. Downrange.” Tracker announced, slipping past us both to set up another sparkle-cola bottle.
In a short moment Tracker was back right beside the alicorn. He was about half her size. It was almost comical when they stood so close together. “When you’re ready.”
In a flash, Moonbrand’s laser pistol shot out four square on-target red beams, slicing through our sparkle-cola branded adversaries with surgical precision. “Was that satisfactory?” She asked, stowing her pistol in the same smooth motion. It took her less than a second.
“No.” Tracker gave us both a hoof wave as he stepped in front of us. “Gimme a sec. No shooting. Going downrange.”
Moonbrand and I shared a quizzical look as Tracker found a few more pieces of trash to serve as targets. This time our prey was old food cans.
When he stepped back to our side, Moonbrand drew her pistol again. “No. Both of you this time.” Curiously, I stepped into place once more, drawing my peashooter and taking aim again.
Tracker cleared his throat. “One more lesson for today. Right now, you’re both facing down four enemies. Pretend these are four raiders that come around the corner, all four have guns. What do you do?”
“I would dive for cover?” I said more as a question than an answer.
“And leave Moonbrand to deal with them all alone? What if they kill her?”
“They probably couldn’t!” I quickly replied, but even I saw the flaw in my reasoning. ‘Probably’ was not definitely.
“What if they did?” The pair of us were quiet.
“I would draw my pistol and shoot all four.” Moonbrand responded to the silence.
“Well and good, you’d probably nail them all, but shooting takes time. Say one of them got a shot off. You have your shield up, it won’t hurt you. What if it isn’t aimed at you? What if it goes wide and hits me? Takes Trixie’s head off?” I cringed, baring my teeth.
Moonbrand’s snout wrinkled. “Do you have something to suggest?”
Tracker nodded. “In combat, you need to be decisive, but you also need to work with and think about your teammates. In the scenario I presented, you’re both facing down four enemies. With that in mind, how do you proceed?”
Thinking I had it, I spoke up. “I would shoot the one closest to me. The one furthest to the left.”
Moonbrand brought her forehoof up to rub her chin. “I, knowing Trixie’s firearm only has one round, would fire on the three farthest away from her, in the order of which one is the biggest threat to me.” After a short pause, she added, “And trusting her to hit her target.”
“Good plan.” Tracker trotted around Moonbrand, and stood next to me. “Let’s see how it goes. On three…one…two…three!”
As one, Moonbrand and I drew and fired. Of course, she hit her targets. It came down to me. This time, there was no time to do my little pre-shooting ritual. If I missed, my life would be in danger, or hers. I simply aimed and fired, using my other shots as a reference, guesstimating about where my bullet would hit.
The soft ‘crack’ of the bottle signaled my shot hitting its mark only a millisecond after Moonbrand’s final target fell. The whole exercise barely took half a second.
Moonbrand smiled. “I see what you are getting at. As a team we are more effective than either of us alone.” She glanced down at me. “And I am proud of you. You have learned to handle that weapon quickly.”
I had to fight back tears. I didn’t know why, but that word, ‘proud,’ it just did something to me in my heart. It made me happy. I wasn’t about to let my new friends see me so vulnerable though, so I made a show of coughing, and thanked her. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling though.
At least, I hoped Tracker would consider me a friend and not just a tag along. The stallion was enigmatic at best when it came to being up front with his feelings.
“It’s a decent start.” Tracker shrugged. “I would like to get in some practice with moving targets, but outside of a range I doubt we’ll find willing volunteers out here.” Moonbrand was looking at him expectantly. “Okay. Gimme a sec, you can take over from here.”
As Tracker said that, he took his cigarette in his mouth, and lifted it to the barrel of my gun. It was still smoking from my fired bullets. He stuffed in the tip of the paper wrap, then pulled it back. It was burning red! Tracker took an indulgent drag off of it and smirked. “And cahn your lasers do dhat?”
I spent the rest of the morning learning to fire and reload Moonbrand’s laser pistol. Tracker let her teach me in peace and packed all our gear up for us so as soon as we were done we were ready to move. It was, like she said, much easier than my own. No recoil. Like holding a toy gun with each trigger pull. It was reloading it, or swapping out the battery, that was difficult. It was small and took fine kinesis to squeeze in right. Goodness, it would be embarrassing to put the battery in upside down in the middle of a gunfight.
Suffice to say it was a productive morning.
A short time later we were packed up and moving. I had the maps on my pipbuck, but I had no idea how Tracker knew where he was going. He never stopped to check his bearings or the wind or anything, just marched forward. According to my maps, he was going the right way. but all these paths down the mountain looked exactly the same. Thick wooded trees on all sides of scarcely trodden dirt paths. If he was faking that confidence he’d give Trixie a run for her money.
An hour later, and we’d made our way down from my heavily wooded home. I turned to look back at the mountain I’d lived on my entire life. The snowy peak, the thick wooded shelf, the little tiny speck of brown way up there that was my old home. I gave it a mental goodbye and turned on my way.
The Line, even before Gardens, had always been rather lush. It bordered the Wendigo Forest in the old days, after all. Those big and imposing trees bled over onto our side from an even thicker wood further East. Then, the war turned them to charred black and sickly husks.
Post Littlepip, though, whatever magic was in the Gardens got some way to bringing them back to life. At this range, there wasn’t enough left in it to purge the radiation, but it did a lot to bring the forest back. Down from the mountain the woods weren’t quite so suffocating, but we’d still find pockets of healthy trees here and there, interspersed with wide plains of dust and a little bit of grass. It was an ecosystem in recovery. A nascent national park for when (if) they rebuild the government back West.
Personally, I never took much stock in the Stable Dweller. Oh sure, everypony had heard of her. ‘Saint of the wastes, saviour of us all’ Yadda yadda yadda. I looked back at Moonbrand and saw her eyes flitting between me and watching the horizon for the new raiders we didn’t have any problems with before. I looked back at Tracker and remembered his brains blasted out on the asphalt. I didn’t feel very ‘saved’ at that moment.
“Fhweet.” A high pitched whistle cut through my thoughts. “Down.” Tracker commanded us, gesturing forward with a hoof.
I hunched down low and crawled up next to him. We’d just crested a small hill, and were looking down at a few old vehicle wrecks. An old motor-wagon with a trailer, quite like Moonbrand’s house, some passenger car now rusted into a hulk. A couple smaller ones that looked like single-pony vehicles.“...What?” I asked the obvious question.
“Ambush.” Tracker flicked his mane. “See that?”
I squinted. I didn’t see anything beyond a swirling dust devil, some rocks, and some old garden patio stuff left out. Probably fallen out of the trailer. “Do you--” I turned to ask Moonbrand but she’d already casted her invisibility spell.
“I do not.” Answered the air next to me, flowing like moonlight on still water vaguely in the shape of a pony.
Tracker smiled, tapping his forehead with a hoof. “Special talent.” He repeated. I arched an eyeridge. “Look, see that old chair over there? How it’s pulled up to that table? Look closer. See the smoking cigarette in the ashtray?”
I shook my head in the negative. “You can see that far out?”
Tracker’s hoof wavered in a so-so motion. “Just the smoke. I’m betting that’s where the scout was posted. I’m betting he saw me crest, then got his lackeys into position. Besides, why would you stay here if not to ambush travelers on the road?”
Moonbrand let out a little ‘harrumph’ “So we are soon to be ambushed. I can take care of this easily. They will not see me coming.”
“Maybe not.” Tracker’s tail flicked. “But if they set up mines, or traps, one wrong step and you’re a goner.”
The alicorn let out an impertinent huff. “So what do you suggest?”
Tracker crossed his forehooves and thoughtfully tilted his head. “Let’s see…place like this, small. Probably only four to six ponies. Not enough travelers around for a big operation. But that being said…if we had a way to get them to come out of hiding. Like a distraction.” He shook his head. “I’d rather not chance it. Let’s turn around and find another way.”
“That may be an issue.” Moonbrand replied. “We lack supplies for a longer trip. We can force our way through.”
“Not all of us have invulnerable magic shields.” Tracker snickered. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a big country, there must be…”
I’d heard enough. “So, you need a distraction?” I was wearing my classic Trixie grin, and had fluffed up my mane back so it looked even poofier than usual. Bright white cotton candy against the drab browns and greens of The Line. “Does The Great And Powerful Trixie serve as an adequate distraction, hm?” I turned my snout up, playing up the hoity-toitiness of my namesake. A little bit of a superiority complex never hurt anypony.
Tracker had a look on his face like I’d just suggested the sky might be made out of pumpkins. “What the fuck are you doing?” He elegantly and poshly asked me.
“Distracting our foes!” I strolled past him, flicking my tail at his snout, leaving the stallion absurdly stunned. “I may simply show myself, and they will be overtaken by the living marvel that is Trixie herself! In the fur! And that should give you peons ” I made sure to really enunciate that word, “time enough to get into position, yes? Then do-- mmh, whatever it is you thugs do.” I turned my nose up and smirked.
…”What the fuck is she doing?” Tracker asked the space of air nearest him I guessed to be Moonbrand.
“Oh right!” The air giggled. “You’ve never met the Showmare have you, Tracker? This is the character she plays on stage.”
Tracker’s hoof found his face so hard I worried he might have knocked himself out. “Are you serious? If you walk down there like this there’s a 50-50 you’ll just get shot immediately.”
I pish-pawed. “Oh come on, Tracker! Would you shoot me?” I fixed his eyes with my own and gave him a wide stare, affecting the absolute cutest look I could. Pursed, pouty lips. Big, wide Showmare eyes. The whole shebang.
His nose wrinkled. “Thinking about it.”
“Then that’s enough time for you to get into position!” I quickly pranced in place behind the hill we were hiding on. “Come on, I can do this. Easy peasy. I’m good at keeping ponies’ eyes on me!”
He sighed loudly and threw his gaze skyward. “Lunar lights, mercy on us....”
Although his little prayer didn’t exactly fill me with confidence it sounded like he was considering it at least. I beamed. “So…can I, just, you know, go down there and…”
“Trixie.” He took a tone I didn’t like. It reminded me of the tone my mother took when she was about to berate me. “If you go down there I’m washing my hooves of this. I warned you that you’ll get hurt. Whatever happens to you, it won’t be my fault and I’m not gonna feel bad about it.”
I didn’t hear a no. “So, I can go down there?”
He turned to the air next to me that looked vaguely Moonbrandish if you squinted. “Has she always been like this and I just never noticed?”
The alicorn giggled. I imagined she did her hoof in front of mouth pose but I couldn’t see it. “She has this stubbornness streak about her. Still, you must admit, she would be a good distraction.”
I swear I could hear his brow furrow. “Fine. We’ll follow your lead, Trixie. I’ll take the left. Moonbrand--”
“Yes!” I nearly leapt upwards, pumping my hoof in the air!
“...Moonbrand,” Tracker continued after giving me a few seconds of happy squealing to get out of my system. “The right. Once they’re all out in the open, we’ll-- Trixie!”
I’d already turned and begun my trot down the hill. I fixed my gaze on the wrecks down below and I cocked a half smile. “Showtime .” I whispered to myself. Tracker wanted a distraction? Trixie didn’t do half measures. Trixie would distract the whole goddamned wasteland!
“Ex-cuh-yooze meee!” I shouted at the top of my longs as I trotted into the open between the wrecks, wary of my hoofsteps lest I stumble upon a mine. “I heard there was a group of devious and dastardly thugs about here! I’ve come to, ahem. Uh. Parlay!”
Silence greeted my calls. I stomped my hoof into the ground. “Hey! I know you’re there! Ugh, do you always make mares wait on you!?” I snorted through my nose and tossed my mane impatiently. “Come ooon! I’m here to talk. Trixie didn’t come all the way down here to put on a show for herself !”
Then, I heard movement. Somepony peeked out over a wrecked car. “See? This is the only one of you that is any type of brave at all? This ONE?” I beckoned him-- her? Either way, I beckoned them forward with a hoof.
The brave pony laid a gun on the hood of the wreck. An old, dinky pipe rifle thing. It was aimed directly at me. “This is a raid!” She shouted. I arched an eyeridge. “Give us all your caps and we’ll…we’ll let you go.”
I was vaguely aware of movement around me. Other ponies taking positions with their guns trained on me. I counted three more. Tracker was right. “Oh come on, you’re surrounding me? Is that really necessary? I’m armed, sure, but look at this thing.” The brave mare leaned over the hood, her hoof feathering the trigger as I levitated out my peashooter. “It’s a single shot action. And it’s not even a good shot! I’m really no threat at all.”
I heard a snort. “Is this one on Dash?” Somepony trotted out from the wrecks, a pipe gun battle saddle trained on me. “She’s fuckin’ certifiable.” A stallion. Matted mane, unkempt fur, patchwork raider barding made out of cloth and an old tire. Charming.
Laughing, I smiled demurely and did a little bow. “It’s nice to have somepony brave enough to meet me face to face!” I batted my eyes, stealing Moonbrand’s disarming mouth-behind-hoof giggle that worked so well on me. It seemed to have the intended effect. Though still curious, the raider pony had at least learned I didn’t mean him any harm. He dropped his guard, mouth coming off the trigger-bit for his battle saddle.
I picked up a few skills as a bartender and a showmare. One of those skills was lying. It’s easy to lie, most ponies do it without even thinking, but that’s how you get caught. The best lies are the ones you trick yourself into believing. Better yet, they’re ones you want to believe. Some lies are really simple; A compliment on somepony’s appearance when they look terrible, a faked laugh at an unfunny joke, a blush at a flirt by an older stallion you have no interest in whatsoever.
Lying is second nature to me, but I know when you have to put a little extra ‘oomph’ in a particular lie to really sell it. Showmareship, as Trixie taught me, is really just lying to a crowd. No, you’re not really great and powerful, but what’s important isn’t that everypony else believes it. It’s that you believe it. Thus, the first step in a successful lie is lying to yourself. If you can convince yourself, you can convince anypony. That, and there’s a second part to that first step. You have to know the type of person you’re lying to.
This stallion? This big gruff guy who was perhaps the single ugliest creature I had ever laid my eyes upon? I imagined he very, very rarely gets a compliment. So, I saw him and zeroed in like a shark.
I lifted my hoof and twirled it around my mane, catching a few strings of white hair upon my black hoof. “Wow. You’re…kinda handsome, heh.” I giggled again, loudly and stupidly. I smiled, wide and dumb.
“Yeah she’s batshit.” Another pony, a mare, stepped out from the wrecks. Same shabby barding. “No one sane could think you look good, Trout.” She had stowed her own pipe weapon in its holster. She smiled at me.
The stallion snorted. “Don’t be jealous. Sweetheart. You know you can have me anytime you want me.” Then his eyebrows bounced, turning back to me. “Say, you coming down off something huh? I can make you feel good while you wait it out.” He trotted around me, bumping his hips into mine. He smelled rancid, like old meat. I forced a smile.
The mare with a makeshift rifle, I now noticed was a unicorn, climbed atop the hood of the wreck and slung her rifle over her shoulder. “Can you at least rob her before we hire another mouth to feed?” That mare was pragmatic! I kind of respected that.
I telekinetically whipped open my saddlebags and showed their lack of contents to Trout, who snickered. “Nope. This one’s broke! Ah well.” He chuckled. “We’ll pawn her off to the Regs up at the police station, they’ll give us something for her.”
The rifle mare rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin the merchandise before we sell it this time.” Then, she fell back down on the roof of the wreck, threw her hoof back over the hood and stretched.
Somepony with a pair of binoculars around their neck hopped out from the wrecks next. She was the only one among the quartet with an actual non-makeshift firearm. A little pistol, but it was much handsomer than the stallion hovering around my flank. I took what little pleasure I could in seeing a real gun again. My eyes lingered on it for far too long. Equestrian army service pistol, standard issue. Nine millimetre. Oh, a real barrel, a real magazine! Not made out of pipes! Luna’s lights I wanted it so badly!
“You lot are useless.” The rest of the raider ponies seemed to look away from her, as if they were afraid to meet her gaze. She wore spiked metal armor. Even Trout stood a little straighter next to me. “Somepony wanders right into our ambush and you idiots don’t even disarm her!?” She trotted up from me, grabbed my peashooter from its holster, and tossed it sideways. “Chain her up. We’ll--”
“But.” I interrupted, she turned to glare at me, her teeth braced in anger. “I want to join you.”
“Hah!” Trout flank-bumped me again. “Yeah? You hear that? She wants to join because of me! I’m attracting mares!”
I nodded quickly, smiling politely at the leader. “Yeah!” I quickly added. “He’s…you know.” I made a show of lifting my forehooves up and tapping them together. “Heh, you know? You know.” Tap-tap.
She made a face like she’d just caught the scent of rotting meat and very nearly threw up. “Fucking crazy mares.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but she strangles you in your sleep, it’s your--” Then her head exploded.
Tracker’s revolver makes a sound like thunder when it fires. Loud, attention grabbing, enough to make my ears ring. I threw myself to the ground, grabbing my peashooter in my kinesis again.
“What the fuck?” The rifle mare quickly stood, before she was evaporated in an ozone flash of laser fire. Her and her gun turned to ash, spattered atop the rusty wreck that was now her tomb.
“Amb--” the other mare didn’t have time to scream before another flash of lethal red prismatic light cut her down to ash.
Beside me, Trout scrambled to put his bit back in his mouth. He turned around. “Come on, fuckers!” He shouted to the air around us he drew the sights over the wrecks. “Come on, come on! Say ‘hi’ and I’ll take your fucking head off!” He turned back. Around again. But he’d forgotten about me.
I called on my magic. The one little spell I knew: smokepop
Confused and coughing, he didn’t have time to swing his battle saddle around before I’d levitated up my peashooter and pressed it to his temple. When he saw me pointing the gun at him, I’d imagine he would show fear or anger. Instead, what I saw in that split second beyond the gray fog of smoke was betrayal. I pulled the trigger, and even my ‘dinky little pipe gun’ wouldn’t miss from point blank.
‘Trout’ fell to the ground, alive one moment and dead the next. Blood poured from his head. His hind leg twitched.
This was the first time I’d killed anypony. In stories I’d read, the hero always felt sad after killing. They’d always say they’d regretted how it came to this and wished they could do better. They would have to do better in the future. Maybe make a vow to never kill again?
I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel happy, no, but I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t feel guilt or sadness. I wonder if that makes me a psychopath?
I’d been staring at Trout’s corpse for a while, long enough for the smoke to dissipate, pondering my feelings or lack thereof, when Moonbrand’s hoof fell upon my shoulder. She hugged me. It…was one of the most awkward situations I’d ever been in. I didn’t know how to tell her that I really was okay because I knew I shouldn’t be okay. Now I felt sad, but it was because Moonbrand felt bad for me. I didn’t want Moonbrand to feel bad for me. How do I tell her I’m okay without sounding like a psychopath?
So, I did what I do best. I lied. Like I said, the easiest ones are the ones you wish were true. “I…wish it could have gone better.” I didn’t. They were talking about selling me into slavery. That stallion I killed had ‘ruined the merchandise’ before, and if that means he did something to another mare that ‘ruined’ her, he deserved what he got and I would do it again a thousand times.
“Sometimes it has to end like this.” Moonbrand nudged me with her snout. “Do you want to go wait by the road? Tracker and I can finish up here.”
No. I wanted to take that dead mare’s pistol. “Yes.” I said, because that’s what somepony in my situation should say.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I not more broken up about this? Maybe I really am insane.
So, I went to go wait by the road while my friends looted the corpses and Tracker tossed that pistol into his own pack. I will admit, I was a little frustrated by being shoved into this-- I don’t know how to explain it, this ‘role’ I was supposed to be that just wasn’t me. Trixie wouldn’t be sad right now. I didn’t want to be either.
“You know, I’m enough of a stallion to admit when I’m wrong.” Tracker trotted up next to me. He double checked his leather barding and gave me a warm smile. “You played that well. Distracting enough to confuse 'em, not threatening enough to get shot. Good work, Trixie.”
Moonbrand followed soon after. I noticed, despite Moonbrand being physically larger and stronger, Tracker had heaped the lion’s share of the loot upon his own backside. Old pipe weapons. Barely worth hauling, but worth hauling. “Yes.” The alicorn agreed. “It is a shame things got violent but I will not mourn them and neither should you.”
I faked trying to fake a smile. “I’ll try.” I hated lying to Moonbrand.
Tracker flank-bumped me and snickered. “Oh, you’re so handsome. You should let me join you. I always wanted to join a handsome cool raider gang…” He threw his head back and laughed out loud. “Goddess, that was great. Freakin’ made my week.”
“Tracker!” Moonbrand berated. “Can you not see she is distraught? Wanton carnage may be standard fair for you, but she--”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “How did you even hear me? Where did you wind up?” I couldn’t hide my smile.
“Behind the trailer. Once the scout jumped off her perch I closed in.”
“Oh! Clever.” I was about to ask where he shot from before I realized that would probably sound a little ghoulish. “Did you…get…anything good?” I asked through gritted teeth.
Tracker shook his head. “Pipe weapons and low power cartridges. Decent enough. Can’t complain.” He saw the disbelief in my eyes and seemed to read my mind. “You can’t have the pistol.”
“What the hell!?” I almost screamed at him. “Come on, it’s the only one that--”
“No.” He snickered. “Learn to kill a raider without needing a few minutes to compose yourself after, and then maybe.” He hip-checked me again and trotted up ahead, taking the lead once more. I cursed him under my breath.
“I…suppose we all cope in our own ways.” Moonbrand said quietly to my side, more to herself than to me. I felt strangely guilty for some reason. If I wasn’t a practised liar when we met it seemed I was rapidly becoming one.
We travelled in silence for a few hours. The sparse woodland got ever sparser, and our small single road widened into a many lane street. I began to see husks of ruined buildings, long turned to rubble.
“Excuse me, Trixie?” Moonbrand broke the quiet. “I was curious about some things.”
“Oh yeah?” Well, I was privately hoping she wasn’t about to ask any hard questions, but I wasn’t about to deny her.
“You didn’t use S.A.T.S. when we were training to shoot. You didn’t use it either in the fight. Why?”
“I didn’t use what now?”
She stopped and arched an eyeridge. “The targeting spell. In your pipbuck.”
“My pipbuck has a targeting spell?” I lifted it to examine it. “How do you use it?”
“I-- well you should just, know. It is your pipbuck. Were you never taught how to?”
I gave a confused shrug. “Really?” She squinted. “May I?” I undid the latch on my pipbuck and gripped it in my kinesis, levitating it over to her and off my leg.
We chatted casually while we walked. I’d never heard of a sats-spell before. Apparently the little thing on my leg I’d just been using as a Trixie content dump and inventory sorter had a few neat combat functions baked in.
At least, it was supposed to.
With a snort, moonbrand floated it back to me after a few seconds. “Somepony modified this to take out all the combat functions. No sats, no combat compass, no injury diagnostics.” She whined, annoyed. “How vexing.”
“Modified? You can do that to a pipbuck?” And here I thought these things were supposed to be tamper proof little bricks.
“Not without developer tools.” She sighed. “Which means, whatever stable this was plucked from was probably a factory for the things. The last OS modification was dated over a hundred years ago, so it must have been when the stable was still in operation. I am sorry I cannot fix it.”
I shrugged. “Hey, at least it still has maps!”
Speaking of maps, I shouted up to Tracker. “Where are we even going? Isn’t this like, a really great spot for an ambush? Couldn’t there be snipers in any of these buildings?”
I saw a smile creep across Tracker’s face. “Good catch. Not around here though, the Loyalists would get ‘em.”
“Loyalists?” Moonbrand and I asked in unison.
Tracker stopped in the street. He took his hoof and pointed skyward. “You two know the-- well you probably fought in it, MB, but you know about the Enclave war?”
“How could I not?” I looked skywards too. The evening sun was warm and comforting. “Two years ago, pegasus enclave invaded the Equestrian surface to disastrous results. Got beat bad.”
“That’s only half the story.” Tracker countered. “Alot of Enclave weren’t happy with the invasion, so they split off to form their own factions. One we got around here, Loyalists, were not loyal to the Enclave, but instead loyal to Rainbow Dash.”
I tilted my head. “So loyal to the element of Loyalty, not loyal to the Enclave. That’s confusing.” Tracker shrugged in response.
Clearing his throat and planting his hoof back on the ground, Tracker nudged his head back skyward. “Yeah, so. Short version? You see any pegasuses in power armour painted blue or with rainbow streaks or a rainbow cutie mark? Don’t shoot ‘em. They’re good pony folk.”
“Pegasi.” Moonbrand quickly corrected, earning an exaggerated eye roll from Tracker.
Tracker turned, flicking his tail to call us to follow. I quickly trotted up after him. “You still haven’t said where we’re going.”
We rounded a corner and I saw it: a wall. A wall made of wood and scrap, taller than a pony, with a simple guard tower behind it. “Pegasus scouts already saw us. Probably let ‘em know we were coming.” Tracker casually mused.
I squinted. I could barely make out the pony in the guard tower waving us in. Waving rather feverishly, too! Below her was a big sign that declared in bold red letters:
Welcome To Crossroads!
Footnote: Level Two
New Perk- Black Widow: Harness your natural charm. You do 10% more damage to members of the opposite sex. In addition, sometimes unlocks unique dialogue options when dealing with stallions.
Skills Up-
Guns: 25
Author's Note
Comments inject dopamine into my brain and convince me to write more please do those