Fallout: Equestria - Martingale Fairytale

by Sturmmann

Rating: mature
Tags: Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Adventure
Length: 27395

The fate of the town of Neigh Orleans rests in the hooves of twenty unlikely ponies...

Riots have held Stable 222 in the grip of terror for days, started by a scavenging team bringing back an anti-zebra propaganda leaflet, and the accidental death of a zebra engineer. One night, as Doctor String Bean is making his way home, the Stable is destroyed. Of the hundreds of ponies and zebras that called it home, there are only twenty survivors, Doctor Bean among them.

Emerging into the Martingale night, it's up to String Bean to lead the survivors, whether he wants to or not. Along the way, they become the unlikely heroes of the nearby city of Neigh Orleans, and quite possibly all of the southern Equestrian Wasteland.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-03 14:46:24 UTC

Chapter 1 - Devastation

Chapter 1 - Devastation

The common area of Stable 222 was a cacophony of shouts, none of which made any real sense, all coming from ponies waving equally senseless signs.

I heaved a sigh.

Stable 222 had been my home for a long time. Thirty-two long years, in fact. In these 32 years, there'd been relative peace. Stable 222 had been an experiment, according to the Overseers (both of them), to see if separate communities of zebras and ponies could live together. The Stable was split, with almost a full Stable on both sides of the common area. Everything had gone well, until just over a week ago, when one of the scout/scavenging teams returned. With them, a number of books destined to either be recycled or restored, and among these books an anti-zebra propaganda booklet.

Somehow this booklet had managed to escape recycling and get leaked among the Stable's population. Within days, it had become a talking point, which morphed into zebra protests in the common area, followed shortly by pony protests. After an accident in the pony reactor room claimed the life of a zebra engineer, the protests rapidly became more angry, and more violent.

As I leaned on the railing of the mezzanine above the common area, I watched as ponies and zebras that had known each other for just as long stood off on either side of a line of Stable security, shouting obscenities at each other and waving signs demonizing the other side.

I heard hoofsteps over the metal walkway that stretched over the common area, and looked up to see my counterpart, Doctor Kugusa, trotting toward me. She was...well, quite frankly, an absurdly beautiful zebra mare. She was lithe, with a coat of light grey with dark grey stripes, and a black mane and tail. Her mane was typically medium length and a little wavy, but today it was done up in a ponytail, as usual for when she was on the job. She was the doctor on the zebra side of the Stable, and a little more than a friend to me. I smiled half-heartedly at her, and looked back down at the mess below.

“Who is it?” I asked without looking at her. These days, we rarely saw each other unless it was to ask for the other's help with something. It was often rather dangerous to go into the other's side of the Stable.

“Jiwe, poor stallion. He went to go see his son-in-law, and had to cross the line to do it. He got caught up in a brawl,” Kugusa replied. Her voice had a slight Zwahili accent to it, and I absolutely loved it.

I sighed again. That was a common story...a pony goes out to see a friend on the other side of the Stable, and either gets beaten, or gets swept up in one of the riots. I looked over at Kugusa, who was leaning over the railing as well. As we watched, a light blue stallion got into a fight with a zebra, who's stripes were of the same shade of blue. Security dragged them away, and I shook my head. I recognized them, and knew the zebra was the pony's son, hence the stripes. This too was a common story, the mob mentality snatching up even families, tearing them apart.

“Is it bad?” I asked, looking over at Kugusa again.

“It's...not terrible. He's got a broken hind leg, as far as I can tell.”

I felt a bit of a smile tugging at my lips. “You can't reset a broken leg?”

Kugusa rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. “You're the one who's good for that, String Bean. With Jiwe's age, I don't want to risk there being something worse.”

I nodded in understanding. The two of us, while trained in a wide variety of medicine, had separate skills. I was better when it came to wounds, broken bones and such. Kugusa was better for psychology and the like. I leaned away from the railing and followed Kugusa as she led me across the walkway. A pony below spotted us.

“Zebra lover!” he shouted. I turned toward the voice, in time to see a bottle of Sparkle~Cola flying toward us.

Doctor Kugusa flinched. I reacted rather quickly, wrapping the bottle in a glow of bright blue magic. I glared down at the pony who threw the bottle, and the pony flashed me a rude gesture with his forelegs, bending one on a ninety-degree angle, and slapping his other foreleg against the first, right near the bend. Yet another pony I recognized, this one a chef in the pony cafeteria, and a usually mild mannered stallion.

I frowned, but managed to resist the urge to throw the bottle back. Instead I slipped it into the pocket of my labcoat and trotted along.

“Pathetic, isn't it?” Kugusa asked, looking back at me.

I nodded, looking to my left at some shop windows. I caught my reflection, and I looked exactly as I felt: tired. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my earthy brown mane, usually well groomed and a bit curly, was now a bit of a mess. The labcoat that covered my light green coat was just as messy, and I took a moment to try and smooth out my appearance. Kugusa watched me with an amused smile, trotting over to help with my mane.

“You look fine. And besides, it's not like Jiwe cares what you look like.” She grabbed my hoof and dragged me forward, and I complied.

“Just been a long few days. Things are getting worse, ever since those scavengers brought that book back.”

“What's done is done, Bean. Now we just gotta fix it,” Kugusa said, smiling a little.

“I know,” I said quietly. Down below, the shouting continued.

I sighed again.

It was looking to be another long day.

~~O~~

“ 'bout time! Been sittin' on my ass, waiting for you two to show up!”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jiwe,” I said, a little dryly and with a forced smile. Jiwe was always brusque and a little rude, despite being a generally good stallion. The zebra was stretched out on one of Kugusa's operating tables, his left hind leg at an odd angle to the rest of his body. Aside from that, Jiwe appeared totally unaffected by his injuries. He was nothing if not tough.

“Ah, there y'are, Stringy. Let's get this over with, I'm needed back at the orchard,” Jiwe said as I trotted over to examine his leg. My horn glowed a bright blue and I closed my eyes while he spoke. Even though they were closed, I could see the zebra still on the table, able to see the bones, the muscles, everything. I just wanted to make sure the leg was the only wound, and aside from a slight fracture of the hip, there wasn't anything else. I opened my eyes again and looked at Jiwe.

“Uh, I'd have to advise against that, Mr. Jiwe.” I wrapped his leg in my magic, and looked up at Kugusa. We'd worked together long enough that I didn't have to verbally question if she'd given him anything, and she nodded.

“Local,” she said.

“Perfect.” I looked back at Jiwe. “Now, as I was saying, while the healing potion will work quickly, I would not recommend going apple bucking, or any other kind of bucking, for a few days. Three, at least,” I said. As I spoke, I shifted the leg back into position, so that the healing potion would be a bit more effective. “Your hip is fractured as well as the leg break. You wouldn't want to break it again.”

“Bullshit. I can still work!” Jiwe grabbed the healing potion from Kugusa and took a long sip before hoofing it back. Either from the anaesthesia, or just pure toughness, I noted that he didn't react at all. Healing potions, while effective, were often painful, as you got to feel things like bones grind together as they fused back together, or muscles stretch and stitch themselves again. In this case though, Jiwe barely seemed to register the pain, and I felt a bit more respect toward the stallion.

“I'm sure you can. But while the healing potion will work, I don't want to see you back here with an even worse injury,” I explained. Jiwe simply grunted in response and looked over at Kugusa, who chuckled.

“I agree with Doctor String Bean. At least two to three days of rest, and then you can get back to work,” she said.

Seeing his was out-numbered, Jiwe seemed to relent. “Fine. But you two better not just be pulling my tail.”

“I'm a doctor,” I said with a chuckle. “I would never dream of it. Now, lets get you up...”

For the next few minutes we helped Jiwe to trot around Kugusa's office, and make sure his leg was functional again. Once satisfied, he trotted off, and I had a feeling it was straight to the zebra's orchard.

“Tough stallion, isn't he?” Kugusa said from her desk, where she was inputting something on her terminal. I leaned against the doorframe and watched Jiwe leave, then looked over at Kugusa with a nod.

“Yeah. Just hope that's all we have to deal with today,” I said. The crowd in the lobby was still rowdy.

“Come on in, close the door. I can't concentrate with all that yelling.”

I did and sat across the desk from her, watching as she typed. After a few moments, she pulled her hooves out of the round slots in front of the monitor and turned to look at me.

“You busy tonight?” she asked casually, leaning against the desk.

“No. Not particularly. I have a few reports to type up in my own office, but...”

“Well, one of the scouts from the latest expedition brought back some interesting stuff. Spices and such. The cafeteria's having a bit of a party to celebrate,” she explained.

I grinned a little at the thought. Parties were rare nowadays, with how high tensions were flaring, and nopony seeming to be able to relax. I enjoyed the thought of some good Neigh Orleans style gumbo, perhaps some dancing and music as well. It was better than my plan for the evening, which consisted of grabbing something to go and reading.

“I'd love to go,” I said sincerely.

Kugusa smiled and she leaned across the desk to give me a quick kiss on the nose. We were close, but not romantically involved, though not for lack of trying on my part. It had begun when we were apprentices, and decided to throw the professionalism of our predecessors to the wind, and had continued ever since. I smiled at the kiss, curious as to what, if anything, would ever come from this relationship, aside from the occasional tryst.

“What time?” I asked as I got there. I turned back to look at Kugusa, who had risen from the desk.

“Eight. Should I walk you over?” she asked.

I opened the door while she spoke. The riot below was still going on. Her concern was valid. Even as a doctor, I might not be safe as a pony in the zebra section, just as she wouldn't be as a zebra in the pony one. I didn't want her hurt, and I feared if she did cross the floor to walk with me, she might fall victim to some of the more violent protestors.

“No. It'd be safer for me to go across alone. I'll meet you there,” I said, smiling softly at her. “Don't worry about me, I can handle myself,” I assured her.

I left, heading for my office on the other side of the stable.

~~O~~

The destruction of Stable 222 came quickly, and without warning.

It happened late, and I wanted to believe that was for the better, as those who died in the initial stages never saw the horror of the evacuation.

Stable 222 was designed to house both ponies and zebras in separate, yet connected, communities. As such, the megaspell reactors were linked. I speculated that sabotage to one had the unintended consequence of rippling to the next reactor, causing both to begin overloading, but there was no way for me, or anypony else, to know for sure exactly what happened, nor why the failsafes didn't engage.

It was three in the morning when the first blast rocked the Stable.

I'd left Doctor Kugusa's room a few minutes before then. The party had been wild, and had started winding down shortly after two. I retired to Kugusa's room for a little while, then decided to make my way back, so that I wouldn't have to deal with that morning's inevitable protests. I had just crossed the darkened atrium, kicking aside fallen signs and trash, when the first explosion happened.

I felt the blast, more than I heard it. It was a deep rumbling that shook me to my very core. At first, I was confused: I had never felt a sensation like that before, and at first, I thought I'd imagined it. It wasn't until I felt a second rumble that I realized it was truly happening. All of a sudden, the lighting cut out. An alarm began to wail from the wall behind me. It was the general evacuation alarm, and could only mean that something was catastrophically wrong. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew I had to get my stuff together, and quickly. My horn flared up in a bright glow to serve as illumination, and I galloped down the hallway to my room. I ducked inside as quick as I good, and got to work.

Despite being the head doctor, my quarters were average. Stables were the ultimate equalizers: from the janitors to the head of engineering, we all had a small, basic room. I quickly grabbed everything and threw my labcoat over my Stable barding. I tossed saddlebags on and began to pack everything I would need into them: boxes of preserved food, some bottles of water. Medical supplies.

Another blast rocked the Stable, this one stronger than the others. I had reasoned by now that something had hit the pony reactor. The fire alarm went off as well, mixing with the evacuation alarm and only adding to my confusion. What was happening to my Stable?

My saddlebags stuffed with medical supplies and other essentials, I made for the door, then stopped. I looked back at my room, and the hooflocker at the end of my bed. It was open, the books and other items I'd decided were useless strewn about. Sitting at the bottom of the hooflocker was a magical energy pistol, my only weapon. It had been my father's, who was Stable security. A rather blocky looking weapon, with an adjustment knob on the back and a small hatch on the side.

I debated for just a few short moments before floating it over to my saddlebag. If these continued explosions were any indication, we'd be spending time outside the Stable. As the head doctor, I'd been in the meetings with the other heads, and heard the stories from the scouting teams. From their reports it was dangerous, and I figured I'd rather have the pistol and not need it, than the other way around.

All in all, it took maybe five minutes to get my bags packed and ready to go. In total, approximately seven minutes since I felt the first blast. It wasn't very long, and yet when I stepped back out into the hall, the Stable had been transformed into something out of a horror story.

Red emergency lights had finally turned on, casting an eerie glow that was only magnified by the thick smoke in the air. I could barely see through the red-tinted haze, but I could hear screams, shouts, and hoofsteps. I felt another rumble, and something I had never felt before: the Stable floor shifted beneath my hooves. I feared the concrete pillars that acted as brakes to keep us from sinking into the swampland had been damaged, and that the entire Stable would slide away into the muck.

The smoke began to irritate my eyes and I started to cough. I covered my snout with the collar of my labcoat, looking back as a rush of heat passed over me. The stairwell down to some of the lower levels was engulfed in flames.

By Celestia, all those ponies...

There was nothing I could do. I turned and ran for the stairs up to the next level, needing to keep ahead of the flames. I heard screams, and ponies rushed from the rooms around me. A hoarse shout rang out behind me, and I turned in time to see a pony running up the stairs...on fire. He screamed and screamed before collapsing against a wall. He was finally still, mercifully dead. I winced, but knew I had to keep going, and so I kept running.

On the pony side of the living quarters, I lived on the third of six levels, meaning it was quite a distance up. Along each hall, confusion reigned as ponies shouted with each other and the mob made for the doors. Families were separated in the chaos, and every now and again there would be a body, either asphyxiated by smoke or simple trampled. I was cantering down a hall when a heating pipe behind the wall to my right exploded outward. The blast shot one of the wall panels off, and it soared across the hallway in front of me, before smashing into and crushing a pony against the wall.

The mare let out a scream of pain. I ran toward the mare, but had to stop before I could get close. I couldn't have gotten to her if I wanted to: the superheated steam shooting from the pipe made it impossible to just walk over. In desperation, I put up a shield. It wasn't a spell I was very good at it, but it was strong enough to let me get close to the mare. I crouched and checked her pulse. Gone. I turned back to see a terrified family of four who had seen the whole thing. I edged over to let them get into the radius of my shield, and helped them, one by one, to get through the cloud of steam. Once they were on the far side, I lowered my shield and followed them up to the common area.

I entered the common area, blinded by the smoke. In the semi-darkness, I heard shouts, screams, and rough coughing from all around me. Another blast rocked the Stable, and from a pipe overhead came a sudden wave of heat, and a wooshing noise. The flames had reached the gas lines. I knew time was short, so I tried to clear the way to the front of the Stable and the exit hallway, but the crowd was too thick, too panicked. The Overseers were calling out, trying to get a sense of organization to the crowd. Somewhere, a gun fired, and the screaming redoubled.

I could barely see, my eyes watering from the smoke. This was bad, very bad. An emergency light above my head exploded, showering a stallion next to me in broken glass. I heard another gunshot, this one followed by a wail of despair, but I couldn't see who had been hit. The crowd surged toward the Overseers, trying to push through. I managed to get to the front of the crowd, and made for the exit, guided only by the glowing letters above the door. I flung open the door when I got there, and finally managed to get a breath of mostly clear air.

“This way!” I called hoarsely, brightening my horn to act as a beacon, so that they could find their way to the exit door, past the Overseers. I felt ponies rush past, and I followed down the corridor beyond. It was a short trot to the door at the far end, which would open to the Stable's entrance door. Just twenty paces, not too far...

As I ran down the corridor, I heard the pipes next to me rattling. A quick glance at one, and I saw it was a gas line. Guessing what was coming, I quickly brought up a shield with only a second to spare. The gas line burst with a roar, spewing out flames that engulfed me and my shield. I gasped...the shield protected me from the flames, but the heat was still incredible. I heard a pitiful cry from nearby, and looked down to see a small form below the flames, where a young foal had fallen. I quickly yanked him into the protective bubble of my shield and helped get him through the flames. Once on the other side, I let the shield go, sweat pouring down my coat, and I looked down at the foal I had saved. A zebra, barely even a colt, cowered.

“Come on! We have to go,” I said, my voice still hoarse. I quickly grabbed the zebra by the scruff of the neck and tossed him over my back, running for the great Stable door. Behind us, I hear shouting and an explosion. Somepony cried out “Back! Get back!”

At the door, I saw a small crowd, waiting for it to be opened. A stallion was leaning over the controls, trying various codes to get it open. “Eight-one-seven-A-B-one,” I rasped out. The stallion looked at me in surprise, then recognized me and punched the code into the console. Sure enough, with a soft klaxon that was nearly lost in the mix of alarms, two lights began to flash on either side of the Stable door.

In front of a crowd that had likely never even seen the door, an arm connected to the door, and gently rolled the massive, gear-shaped door along its track. It rattled along to a stop, revealing the way up out of the Stable. The reveal was rather anticlimactic, as the door opened to a small, dark hallway with a set of stairs leading up. The ponies ahead of me ran for the stairs, and I followed.

I stopped in the doorway, looking back at the controls. For a split second, I debated closing the door behind us. However, I decided I'd leave it open, on the off chance that some ponies found an alternate route up to the doors. The Stable rocked again, and I winced. I took one look back at the Stable I had called my home for over thirty years, then ran up the stairs after the rest of the group, to take a look at the real world for the first time in my life.

Chapter 2 - Hope

Chapter 2 – Hope

Stable 222 had been a mastery of pre-war engineering, a pair of Stables linked by a common area, held against the marshy ground by massive concrete pillars that acted as friction brakes. And yet, for all that engineering, it had been built underneath a tool shed. It was barely big enough to contain the trap door and the twenty survivors as huddled together in there. On pure instinct, the same instinct that had been driving me to do it in the evacuation, I brought up light on the tip of my horn again, flooding the tool shed in soft, blue light.

Nineteen pairs of eyes looked up at me, as if waiting for me to speak. I looked back at them, taking in the sight. Of the zebras, there was one full family, the parents and a filly. Two stallions stood by, as well as two colts (the one I'd saved among them), and a filly with a young foal on her back. On the pony side of things, another full family, this time with two kids, a colt and a filly. In addition, two mares held each other close, looking terrified. A stallion, a mare, a filly and a colt rounded up the rest of the technicolour cast of ponies.

I sighed, and opened my mouth to speak. Instead, I only managed to start coughing raucously. I had inhaled a lot of smoke, and my throat was as dry as a bone. I covered my snout as I coughed, then eventually relaxed.

I looked over the group again. They were still silent, looking at me. Apparently, being one of the heads of the Stable made me the unofficial leader. I shifted a little, uncomfortable. I had never been good at talking, especially to crowds. I cleared my throat, then finally began speaking. “I'm not going to lie. This... is not good.” I got a sarcastic snort from a pony stallion, and I glared at him. The red stallion shut up immediately. Like I said... not good at talking.

“I don't know what happens now. I don't know if we're the only survivors. But... whatever happens, I promise I'll keep you all safe.” I looked at the group, which seemed to nod collectively.

“Where are we?” the zebra colt I'd saved asked. He was grey, with crimson stripes and a matching mane. I took a look around the shed, thinking of an answer, and after a moment, it finally seemed to kick in. With the chaos and the fear that had struck me during the evacuation of the Stable, I had been relying on instinct to use my horn for light, and as such, almost totally forgot about the PipBuck strapped to my foreleg. Cursing my own forgetfulness, I lifted my left foreleg and checked the little display. I went to the map function, waiting for the map-making spell to begin updating. All of a sudden, one of the zebras, a young stallion, spoke.

“Martingale. Outside Neigh Orleans.”

We all looked at the source of the voice. He looked barely old enough to be called a stallion, and he scratched a hoof against his black-and-white striped neck in embarrassment at the sudden attention he was getting.

“My Dad was one of the scavengers. He told me about this place,” he explained. I didn't doubt the zebra, but I checked the map anyways. Sure enough, it was labelled as Martingale, and more specifically, the Martingale train station. I could see the other equines checking their PipBucks, coming to the same conclusion.

I looked at the zebra. “What's your name?” I asked softly.

“Kusafiri, sir.”

“No need for sir, here. Just Bean, or Doc Bean if you have to,” I said with a bit of a reassuring smile. The zebra flashed one back, and I looked around.

“Kusafiri, your father tell you anything else?” I asked.

The zebra seemed to think it over, then nodded. “He and some of the other scavengers made little stashes around the train and station. In case we had to evacuate, si-... Doc. But... I don't know how to get to Neigh Orleans from here.”

I nodded to myself. I looked at the door to the shed, then floated out my energy pistol, then steel myself. This had the possibility to be dangerous, and I wanted to be ready for whatever was on the other side of the door.

“Stay back,” I cautioned in a quiet voice.

I cracked the door open a little to take a glance out. For the moment, all seemed quiet. I saw no movement, heard nothing but the wind through the trees. I watched for a solid minute before looking back at the equines, who were all quiet, waiting for my signal.

“PipBuck lights on,” I instructed. “We'll move quietly. I think I can see the train station. Is anypony else armed?” I asked.

To my surprise, a few weapons were drawn. One of the stallions, the father in the pony family, had a small pocket pistol, a 9mm. A pony mare had a kitchen knife with her, and the other zebra stallion that wasn't Kusafiri had a baseball bat. Not much... but we weren't unarmed at least.

“Okay. You, with the gun,” I pointed to the stallion.

“Ginger Beer.”

“Ginger Beer, you'll be behind us, covering our rear. You, and you-” I pointed to the mare and the zebra with the weapons. “Follow along the sides. The rest of you, stay between us four. If anything goes wrong, don't run, let us take care of it.”

I got a chorus of assent, and turned to open the door, and trotted out.

It was the first time any of us had ever seen the outside world. The night was mostly clear, and I heard a filly behind me gasp at the sight of the stars above us. I looked up for just a moment to take in the sight myself. The cloud cover was patchy, but thick where it existed. I could see stars shining through large gaps and holes, and even part of the moon. The clouds drifted slowly, causing the shapes of the starry fields to shift and change. The sky looked infinitely deep, and for a moment, I felt a little afraid, having lived in a sealed in Stable my whole life. Yet by the same token, it was amazing.

“It's beautiful,” the zebra mare said softly. I agreed wholeheartedly. It was incredibly beautiful.

Ahead of us, I could see a building silhouetted in the night. As we approached, I came to see another shape nearby, that of a large train. I turned toward the building first, leading the group that way.

“Kusafiri,” I called. “Any idea where these stashes are?”

“No clue, Doc.”

I nodded, deciding the search could start in the morning. According to my PipBuck, it was getting near four in the morning. It wouldn't be long until dawn, but we could at least get some rest.

I trotted up to the train station, the light from the group's PipBucks lighting it as we passed. It was a long building, a single storey with a tall roof. A squared cupola shot out from the middle, above the curved bay window of the ticket office. I looked through the front doors, and it was eerily empty. A push on the door revealed it to be unlocked, and we all entered the waiting room. The waiting room was a large room, with a semi-circle to our right with a bench under it and even more bay windows.

It appeared to me as if ponies had been here, at least recently. There were areas where the dust hadn't accumulated, and the trash had appeared to be moved. There were no bodies, despite the luggage piled in a corner, so somepony must have moved them. A cursory check of the ticket office and the back storage rooms revealed that it'd been picked clean of most essential items, leaving behind just various bits and pieces, like pencils and coffee mugs.

By the time I had cleared the back rooms with Ginger Beer, most of the younger ponies and zebras were curled up on the bench at the far end of the station, beneath the curved series of windows. The adults were either nearby, sitting on the twin benches in the middle, or else just curled up on the floor. The children were sleeping, but I noticed that most of the adults appeared to still be awake.

I looked over at Ginger Beer, and gave him a nod. He went off to comfort his wife, while I found myself a spot and curled up near the door. I closed my eyes, but found myself unable to rest. All I could see when I closed my eyes were vivid images of the escape. The vent cover smashing into a mare, snapping her neck. The burning stallion. The choking, hellish red-tinted smoke. Fed up with trying to sleep and just seeing nightmares, I quietly trotted out onto the platform to sit in the open air.

I wasn't out there five minutes when the door opened again. A pony mare, the marefriend of the one with the kitchen knife, trotted over to sit next to me.

“You should rest,” I advised in a quiet voice, watching the sky begin to slowly brighten.

“Can't sleep,” the mare said. I looked over, trying to place her. I recognized her, I thought.

“You should at least try... uh... ?”

“Peach Tea.”

“Right,” I said softly. “I can't either.” I found myself wondering what we were going to do, and where we would go. The station was nice, but there was nothing there. No food, no water, until we could find the stashes at least, and those wouldn't hold out. I consulted the map on my PipBuck, while Peach Tea watched me with a curious expression on her face.

“What?” I asked, looking over at her. I didn't quite like it when ponies watched me work, so it came out a bit snippier than I'd wanted.

“Just wondering if you have a plan. You seem... concentrated,” the mare said.

I laughed quietly, bitterly, looking up at the slowly lightening sky. “I barely even know where we are. I've only heard from the scavengers, never been up here myself,” I explained. I was terrified... they all saw me as a leader. I wasn't, not in my mind. I had no idea if I could keep these ponies safe. I was no leader.

“But you know what to do, right?” Peach Tea asked. I looked over at her, and saw the fear on her face.

“I'll figure it out,” I said simply, a small smile on my face. It was a fake smile, because I sure didn't feel all that confident. Neverthless, I gave her a one-legged hug, and looked back over the forest around us, still thinking about how we were going to survive the first few days.

~~O~~

The dawn came an hour later. I watched it, having never seen one outside of a movie before. Peach Tea stood beside me the entire time. It was an image that would stay with me for the rest of my life, and it was stunningly beautiful. The sky began to brighten, and the colours shifted, from blue to shades of orange, as a circle of bright light, diffused by the clouds on the horizon, slowly crested the trees.

“Wow,” the young mare breathed.

“You said it,” I mumbled in return. With the sun out, I saw the cloud cover in better detail. It was odd: in places it was thick, looking nearly solid, but in other places it was shredded open, as if a great claw had torn the clouds. It didn't look natural, like photos of the old Equestria I'd seen, with all their fluffy clouds. I found myself wondering if there were still pegasi around that were working the weather still... and that made me wonder whether they were trying to break the cloud cover, or thicken it, though to what purpose, I couldn't begin to guess.

We watched the sunrise for a few more minutes, then turned back and entered the station. It took another twenty minutes for everypony to wake up. By then, I'd organized the adults into a little conference around a map that was hanging in the ticket office.

“Okay. We're here,” I said, tapping my hoof on a small dot on the map. The nearest township we could see was a small town called Bakersmill, between the train station and the town of Neigh Orleans itself, which I estimated was about a day's trot away, as the crow flies.

“Should reach Neigh Orleans in about a day. Bakersmill, by mid day, if we move fast.” Of course, I was estimating as if I would be doing it, alone. I wasn't an athlete, but I could still move quickly. However, the young ones in the group would slow us down significantly.

“I'm not very comfortable heading straight there, not yet,” a zebra stallion, who's name I learned was Ngao, stated. I looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. “We have a lot of young with us. A long trip to Bakersmill will be difficult, and there's no guarantee there'll be food or shelter when we get there. Could be wiped out. We don't even know if we have the supplies to get there one way.”

“There's ponies there. My Dad said so,” Kusafiri said confidently.

I looked at the young zebra. “When was the last time he and his team went out?”

“Two months.”

I looked over at the map, considering something, while Ngao spoke up.

“Two months is a lot of time, Kusafiri. They might not be around, and they might even be trouble.”

“He has a point,” Ginger Beer said with a nod. “They might not let us into the city, or whatever shelter they have.”

“But we have a foal with us! And children! They can't just turn us away,” Ginger Beer's wife, a pegasus mare, pointed out.

“Rain, honey, this isn't like the Stable. We don't know what kind of ponies are out here,” Ginger replied.

“Well, what do you all suggest?” I asked, looking up at the assembled group.

One of the other zebra stallions spoke up. Mwanga was his name, as I'd learned from Kusafiri. “Ku, what's this?” His hoof was pressed to a certain spot on the map.

We all looked at it. It was a large, circular clearing off the main road into town, near the winding river that passed through Neigh Orleans and Bakersmill. Whatever was there, it wasn't far from us, maybe a two hour trot at most.

“I don't know. Dad and the scavengers just went right to Bakersmill, they never looked around the forest,” Kusafiri replied.

“I can fly up, take a look?” Rain Maker suggested. We all looked at the mare, who stretched some blue wings.

“I don't know who, or what, is in the area though. I don't want to attract too much attention to us,” I pointed out.

The mare giggled a bit, pointing at the window that sat in front of the station master's desk. Another mare stood out there, with a coat of bright pink, watching over the fillies and colts with the help of another one of the ponies, the red stallion (also a pegasus) that had snorted at me during my little speech in the shed the night before. The children were playing around the train and tracks, clearly enjoying themselves.

“I'll bet those kids are loud enough that if anypony wanted to, they'd find us,” Rain pointed out.

I nodded. It made sense to me. “Well, I'm okay,” I said. The others gathered murmured in assent, and Rain Maker kissed her husband, Ginger Beer, then headed for the door.

“Okay. While she's out... Kusafiri, what about the stashes your father mentioned? They're around here, right?” I asked.

The zebra nodded. “I don't know where though.”

“Okay. Ginger, Ngao, Kusafiri, Peach.” I pointed to each pony in turn. “You four search the station. Mwanga, Dewdrop, Elekezi,” Dewdrop being Peach Tea's marefriend, the one with the knife, and Elekezi being Ngao's husband, one of the zebras. “You three come with me. We'll search the train.”

With a nod, the group split, and we headed outside.

The train was unlike any I'd ever seen. Most pony trains were short, metal where needed, wooden otherwise. They were powered by a team of ponies pulling it along, with the steam engine used only on certain occasions or for long hauls.

The train that sat on the tracks outside the station was enormous. Nearly thirty feet long and half that high, it was all iron, with two pairs of four massive wheels in the middle, and two pairs of smaller wheels on either side of them. At the end of the long, cylindrical body were a pair of wings tucked alongside the train, and an eagle's beak, the mouth wide open, graced the front over the cowcatcher. A single, shattered headlamp stuck out from the beak. Above it was a small plate, faded with time, but the numbers were still legible: 6218. The same letters appeared on the sides of the cab, just as chipped and faded.

“That's one ugly looking train,” Mwanga commented. I had to disagree. It was definitely blunt looking, more utilitarian than beautiful, but to get something so big and so heavy to move was rather incredible. That being said, it likely no longer moved.

“Looks like griffon-make. My grandpa had a model of a griffon ship, looked like this. Made to work, not to be pretty,” Elekezi commented.

I looked back at the others. “I'll search the cab. The rest of you check the cars. Go through it with a fine-tooth comb, I don't want to miss anything,” I instructed, climbing up into the cab. I heard the others trot away.

The interior of the cab confirmed Elekezi's suspicions. The controls were a mess of levers and knobs, none of which could easily be manipulated by pony hooves, and all of them were labelled in the guttural language of griffons: 'dampfdruck', a dial next to my head announced. 'Bremshebel', a lever nearby proclaimed. I look a look around the cramped cab, but there wasn't much to see.

I turned to leave, before something caught my attention. A lever in front of the half-circle door of the firebox. I didn't know exactly what 'feuerraum'  meant, but it didn't take a genius to guess what the lever was for. I grabbed the lever between my forehooves and pulled down.

With a shriek of rusted metal on metal, the door to the locomotive's firebox shifted open, just a little. Barely an inch, despite all the force I was throwing onto the lever. I grunted in effort and pushed harder, throwing all my weight into the push. More grinding, then suddenly the lever gave and the firebox flew open. The sudden lack of tension sent me sprawling to the dirty wood floor of the cab.

I got up and brushed my clothing off, then turned to look at the firebox. I activated the lamp on my PipBuck, and got closer to the open steel doors. The inside of the firebox was covered in ash and half-burned lumps of coal. Then, toward the right side of the box came a glimmer of light on metal, and I noticed a stainless steel toolbox sitting there, toward the back. The numbers “222“ were printed on the side, and easily visible.

I wrapped the toolbox is a glow of magic and yanked it across the firebox and out into the cab. With hope rising, I quickly unclasped it and opened the box. As soon as I saw the contents, I let out a happy little shout.

Stuffed inside the toolbox were six emergency ration packs, and four sealed water bottles. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start. A note was taped to the inside of the lid: “Eat, drink, and good luck. - Stable 222 Scout Team A.” I smiled and shut the toolbox, floating it with me as I stepped back out of the cab.

I made my way along the row of cars. Five cars, plus a caboose at the end. The car in the middle had a strange metal bulge at the top, split down the middle. I looked at it, trying to determine what it would be, just as Dewdrop, Peach Tea's marefriend, stepped out. I looked over at them and nodded to the toolbox. She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Nothing. This car was totally empty... just a bunch of open crates. Said stuff like... waffen and kugeln on it, but there was nothing but packing paper in there,” she explained.

“Ah. What's that little bulge at the top?” I asked.

The unicorn shrugged. “No idea. There was a ladder dropped down from the ceiling, but the hatch was locked,” she explained.

As we spoke, the other two, Mwanga and Elekezi, stepped out of the cars they'd been searching. Elekezi had found another toolbox much like the one I had, while Mwanga had found nothing.

“Alright, well, that's something,” I said, looking at the train. “Let's check these last cars.”

I went to the caboose with Mwanga, while Dewdrop and Elekezi checked the other cars. The caboose was picked through as well, the only things left being various papers, and a tin kettle on the stove. I checked the water supply, but the container was empty. The various cabinets were all empty as well. The only thing that appeared to be untouched was a locker near the back door. A padlock hung from it, one that was far too shiny and new to have been there from the war.

“Any ideas?” I asked Mwanga.

The zebra stallion nodded. “Stand back, this might get messy,” Mwanga said simply. He turned and and bucked the lock, hard. I hear it crack, but it took another two bucks for the hasp to snap properly. I nodded, quite impressed. I was no pushover, but there was no way I could buck a solid metal lock. Mwanga was built a little tougher than I.

With the lock smashed, we pried the locker open. I was expecting to find it full, what I wasn't expecting was to find another hooflocker inside, like one of those dolls from Stalliongrad. The hooflocker wasn't locked, and it was different than the toolboxes we'd found, despite it's origin likely being Stable 222. Curiously, I opened it.

“Oh, shit yeah,” Mwanga said with a grin.

Inside the hooflocker were a pair of shotguns. I recognized them as being from the Stable armoury, having seen them in the possession of some of the guards during the riots. However, while those had been loaded with non-lethal rounds, I had a feeling the four drum magazines tucked in among the guns were full of very, very lethal shells. We now had weapons to protect ourselves, and some food to help survive. I took one of the guns, loading one drum and stuffing the other in my saddlebag. Mwanga did the same, his drum ending up in a pocket on his barding.

We trotted out of the caboose. Elekezi and Dewdrop were there with another metal toolbox of food and water. That was good. Just enough food for us to last for a day or two, and some water to boot. As we made our way back to the train station, I saw Rain Maker coming in from over the building. She landed in front of the station and followed us inside.

“You find anything?” I called out to the team that had been searching inside. Ginger Beer looked over at us and shook his head.

“Nope,” Ginger Beer said simply.

I looked around. “Where are the kids?”

“With Berry Medley. She's in the stationmaster's office, keeping them entertained with some stories,” Ngao explained, coming to join us. “What's in the toolboxes?”

“Food, courtesy of the scavengers. And they left us these guns. Here,” I said. I passed mine and its spare drum to Ngao, who took it with a word of thanks. Mwanga offered up the other one, and to my surprise, it was Peach Tea who took it. She loaded it rather expertly, and we all looked at her as she did. She was the last pony I would have ever expected to grab the shotgun.

“What?” she asked. “I worked in the armoury.”

“Alright,” I said after a moment. “Rain Maker, what did you find?” I asked, looking over at the mare.  She ran a hoof through her dark blue-grey mane, trying to smooth it out, before answering.

“That clearing's a mansion. Big one. I had to fly out a ways to see it, but it's there, sitting pretty on a hill. I also got a good look at Bakersmill from above while I was out... saw a bit of smoke. Somepony's gotta be there,” the mare reported.

“Told ya they'd still be there,” Kusafiri said confidently.

I couldn't help but chuckle. “Alright. So there's ponies there. I'm still not comfortable heading straight there, so how about we check out that mansion?” I suggested.

“It looks to be in one piece. And it's pretty close,” Rain Maker said.

“We could bring the kids there, then head out in a small group to Bakersmill,” Elekezi suggested. I looked up at her, nodding and letting her continue. “There might be food there. And it's gotta be more comfortable than the station. At the very least, it'll be a place to stay if Bakersmill won't take us in.”

“Sounds good to me. Anypony got any objections, or suggestions of their own?” I asked.

The group shook their heads, and I nodded, standing up.

“Let's get to it then.”

~~O~~

It was slow going. It took us a little over two hours to find the small driveway that led off the main highway, both because it was well hidden, and because nopony, from the children to the adults, were used to such a long walk. We'd spent most of our lives in a Stable that, while bigger than most, was still a contained, underground structure. Long walks were taken around the common area, if at all. Compounding that problem was the heat: it was already hot and humid, despite the relatively early hour of the morning, and most of us were already drenched in sweat. However, while the children complained, the adults stayed quiet. We had to press on, no matter what.

I started looking around at the trees on either side of the road. The war that had come to Equestria seemed not to have hit Martingale, because the trees were still... not alive, but not dead. Some trees were scorched, dead looking, while others were simply parched. It was making me uneasy, because of how everything seemed almost normal, and yet there was a dead silence. No sounds of ponies, no animals. Just the breeze through the trees.

I also started to guess as to why the area was called Martingale. Like the eponymous bit of tack, the branches of the forest were forcing our heads down, as they'd grown wild and tangled, even across the driveway toward the house. It was difficult to see more than a few steps ahead of us, even when we'd reached the end. I was almost surprised when we'd finally stumbled out of the forest and into the clearing.

“Wow!” a colt exclaimed.

“Would ya look at that...” Elekezi added.

A hill grew out of the clearing, its sides gently sloping down toward us, while the driveway we stood on arced up toward the mansion that rested on the hill. A massive rectangular structure, the mansion stood two and a half storeys high. At one point, it must have been quite the stately building, with its six pairs of tall columns around the front porch, and the tall, peaked roof over the main stairs. However, two hundred years of disrepair, and one major war, had been rough on the mansion. Even from the base of the hill, I could see the columns were darkened with age, the roof was missing a number of shingles, and the bricks were scorched in places. Aside from minor superficial damage, the mansion seemed to be mostly intact.

Finally, some good news.

“See? What'd I tell ya!” Rain Maker said with a proud grin.“Bit of spit polish, it'll look good as new!”  She was halfway up the driveway already, having broken our travelling formation. Her wings were flared in excitement, and I couldn't help but chuckle. “Come on, Windy, Fire!” she called out to her children, galloping up the path toward the mansion.

Ginger Beer, and their children ran to catch up to her. This caused a rush of movement as the other fillies and colts charged up the hill, followed by us adults. The kids cheered, eager to see their new home, and I too was excited to see what the interior looked like.

“What do you think it's called?” the red pegasus stallion asked me. His name was Lode Stone, if I remembered correctly.

“What?” I asked, looking over at him. He shrugged.

“You know. All those old, fancy mansions in the stories had names. Like... Rosecliff, this mansion in a book I read,” he explained.

Berry Medley, who was on my other side, looked up at the mansion as we approached. “Why don't we call it Hope?” she suggested. Lode Stone and I looked at her. “Hope Manor. It's fitting, isn't it?”

I nodded in agreement, climbing the steps to the front door of the newly christened Hope Manor. “Yeah. It is a good name,” I said simply, smiling a bit. I confess I was quite excited myself as I stepped through the front door, and took my first look down the wide hallway that ran straight through the building to a set of doors on the far side.

Hope Manor had seen better days. Paint peeled in some areas, some windows were cracked and broken, others boarded up, and the back door hung loose in its frame. Nevertheless, it was intact, and a quick sweep revealed that there were no bones or bodies. Jdging from the thick layer of dust that covered everything and the lack of bodies, I figured nopony had entered Hope since even before the War. The dust was almost choking, and by the time we'd examined the entire mansion, from the living room, study and kitchen on the first floor to the rooms above, most of us were sneezing and coughing like mad.

Still, it was nice and safe, with room for us all. Of course, we had to share the rooms, but in the end we'd all have a comfortable spot to lay our heads. The mansion itself was big enough for the kids to amuse themselves exploring, and the books in the library were faded, but legible. There was even a grand piano in one room, though it was out of tune, and nopony knew how to play anyways.

And above all, it had food. Lots of food. The fridge did have some perishables in it (and by Celestia was that smell disgusting), but the cupboards and pantry were mostly filled with non-perishable food. If I had to guess, I'd say there was enough for us to last at least a week, maybe more if we ate light. That was more than enough time to go and find more in Bakersmill and beyond.

All said, I felt confident. I'd made the decision to come here as the group's leader, and it had paid off for the better. Now I just hoped that my next decision would work as well. I went around the mansion, gathering up the equines as I went along, to have a little meeting. We gathered in the living room, the brightest and biggest on the first floor. Most equines had settled onto the dusty couches and chairs, while Kusafiri and Lode Stone were at the fireplace, trying to get a pair of rusty sabres down from a mounting plaque.

I looked around at the gathered crowd, noting they were all bright and happy, in stark comparison to the expressions of doubt and hopelessness I'd seen in the shed of the train station, just a few hours before. I now understood exactly why Berry Medley had named this place Hope. “Welcome, fillies and gentlecolts, to Hope Manor,” I started with a smile.

Before I could continue, the group cheered, and I found my little smile growing. For the first time since the escape, everypony seemed truly happy, and I was starting to feel more confident as the group's leader.

“Settle down, come on. Okay, so, we've got food, we've got shelter. But we're going to need a lot more food, and fast. I'm going to head to Bakersmill to search for food, and see if anypony's there,” I explained, looking around at the group. “If there's ponies there, I want to see if they can help us. I only want a small group, to not attract too much attention. Any volunteers?”

A white and black striped hoof shot up from near the fireplace. Kusafiri had managed to extract one of the sabres, and was currently examining it. “I'll go,” he said simply. “I want to see the town. I can handle myself, don't worry. Besides, my Dad used to talk to me about it, so I can maybe help.”

He did have a point. I looked around for more volunteers, and another hoof came up, this one a clear, light green. “Count me in,” Ginger Beer said.

I nodded. “Good. That'll be enough. The rest of you, take it easy. And uh... maybe clean a bit,” I said with a chuckle. As if to underscore what I said, somepony shifted on the couch and sneezed, sending up even more dust from the cushions.

“How long will you be gone?” Rain Maker asked. She seemed a little concerned, and rightly so. I was taking her husband along, after all.

I shrugged, looking over at her. “I don't know. Two days, maybe three,” I said. “It won't be long, hopefully.”

I turned to look at Kusafiri and Ginger Beer. “You two, get ready to go. We're leaving in ten minutes,” I said. They nodded and went off to get armed and prepared. I checked my magical energy pistol to make sure it was still working, then emptied my saddlebags onto the kitchen table. I grabbed only a few boxes of food, some water, and a small amount of medical supplies.

I went back to the front door, waiting for the others. Kusafiri was already there, his saddlebags on and his sabre stuck in a loop on them. Ginger Beer arrived moments later, also with saddlebags and armed with his pistol.

“Ready?” I asked. They nodded.

“Let's get to it,” I said. The three of us turned, and walked out of the mansion.

Chapter 3 - Bakersmill

Chapter 3 – Bakersmill

“Welcome to Bakersmill. Where the good times actually roll.”

I looked over to see Kusafiri reading from the sign outside the town. Most of it was faded, but it was still legible. A stylized drawing of the town accompanied the words.

I looked past the sign at the town beyond it. The road we were on arced through it, and the town straddled the river, connected by one, high-arching bridge. The town was mostly flat, little more than a collection of houses. The area around the river seemed the most built up, with the buildings reaching taller than the single storey of the others around us. As Rain Maker had reported, a small plume of smoke raised from the edge of town, near the river.

“Wonder if anypony's home,” Ginger Beer asked.

I chuckled and shrugged. “We can only hope,” I replied, trotting forward. “We'll check there first.”

It was quiet, unnervingly so. I looked around as we passed the first few houses, trying to not let the heat get to me. Despite, or maybe because of, the cloud cover, it was stifling outside. I, like my two companions, was used to the climate controlled cool of the Stable. Now that the sun had been out a while, the heat had become unbearable, and the humidity made it feel like we were underwater. Ginger Beer and Kusafiri had both opened their Stable bardings, and after a while I unzipped mine too. It didn't help much, but it was something.

“This fucking heat, huh?” Ginger Beer said with a laugh, having watched me unzip my Stable barding. I was heavily regretting taking the labcoat along as well, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

“It's the humidity,” I replied, wiping a hoof across my brow. It came back soaked, and didn't do much. “I can stand the heat. This humidity... it's like we're swimming.”

Kusafiri chuckled, and I couldn't help but grin as well. We had a lot to deal with, and here we were complaining about the weather, as if it was important. I ended up even laughing a bit about it, looking around as we approached the city. Much like the trees, Bakersmill was still intact, and I wondered if the war had even come to the city at all.

“It's so... quiet...” Kusafiri said after a long while of silence. He seemed nervous, and I couldn't blame the young stallion. The buildings may have been sagging with age, and dirty from the unbridled elements, but everything looked normal, as if at any moment, ponies could simply step out and greet us. It looked as if the entire town had simply disappeared. The house to my right even had a sky waggon sitting in the driveway, rusted but still in one piece.

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. Bakersmill appeared to have been a small suburb at one point, mostly consisting of houses spread out along the main road and the few side streets. The houses were all similar in design: single storey, and either very wide, or very long, depending on how they were set up. One or two went to two storeys, but they were few and far between. As we trotted along the highway closer to the river, a few shops and restaurants appeared among the houses, and on the far side of the river were a pair of small factories, and of course, the mill itself, walled off from the rest of the town. From beyond those walls came that small plume of smoke.

Bakersmill must have been quaint, even beautiful, before the war, I decided. Now, it was just eerily empty and quiet.

I looked to my right, spotting a little coffee shop called “The Cheery Bean”. On a whim, I looked into one of the windows to see if there was anything worth taking. I noted it was ransacked, but something seemed off about the whole place.

“Hold on,” I called out to my companions, holding up a hoof to get them to stop. I heard their hoofsteps slow down.

“Come on, Doc!” Kusafiri whinnied. “The mill's right across the bridge, and it's friggin' hot!” I knew that he just wanted to get this over with, as soon as possible. I shook my head.

“What is it, Bean?” Ginger Beer asked, looking over my shoulder. I pointed with a hoof toward one of the tables.

“Look, there,” I said. The stallion to my right nodded, then looked at me.

“What is it?”

“Doesn't that look a bit too... perfect?” I asked.

The table I was pointing at stood upright, and unlike every other table there, was clean of dust and debris. The dishes on top were stacked as well, not scattered about the room. To me, it was as if somepony had been there not long ago.

“Hello?” I called out.

“What?” Kusafiri asked, looking over at us. He'd gone to sit in the shade of a bus stop nearby to try and get some rest.

“Looks like there might be somepony here,” Ginger answered.

“Are they friendly?”

“No id-”

“Quiet!” I whispered to my companions. I wasn't trying to be mean, but I was listening for a reply. I stepped through the front door of the coffee shop.

“Doc?” Kusafiri said quietly.

“Come on,” I called out, waving with my hoof. I looked around the shop to look for signs of anypony being there, but saw nothing. Instead, I went for the cash register.

“While we're here, might as well look for supplies,” I explained. The two nodded and went to the kitchen, while I got to work forcing open the cash register. I would never have considered stealing like this in the past, but at this point, I was desperate. We would need money to trade with the ponies of Bakersmill, if they were friendly, and I was willing to break into this register if it meant keeping the others safe. I opened the cash drawer and pulled out piles of pre-war bills and coins, then shoved them into my saddlebags. Behind the counter were a few empty mugs and glasses, but nothing else of use.

“Find anything?” I called out to my companions.

“Not yet!” Kusafiri replied.

I nodded to myself, then started to wander about the room, taking a stop at the table that had been set upright. I examined it for a moment, then shrugged. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why anypony would have set it up like this. After a few moments, I turned and trotted toward the bathroom, intent on relieving myself. I opened the door to the little colt's room, and jumped back in surprise.

An earth pony stallion looked back at me. He was of average height but skinny and lanky, with a coat of steel grey and an unkempt mane of fiery red. A hat of dead looking straw sat lopsided on his head. He wore armoured barding, that looked similar to the stuff Stable security would wear. Perhaps most prominent, and most frightening feature of this stallion, was the boxy shotgun that hung from his neck, resting against his chest.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, frozen in surprise, then went for our weapons at the same time. I quickly floated out my MEP, pointing it at the stallion's head. He quickly hooked a hoof through his shotgun's grip and raised it, grabbing hold of the bit.

We stood off like this for a few seconds, neither of us firing. It was a long time before any of even blinked. In the end, it was the stallion who blinked first.

“Put the gun down,” I said.

“Ya first.”

“How can I trust you?”

“ 'bout the same way Ah can be trustin' ya,” the stallion replied. I nodded slowly. He did have a point, after all. I began considering my options, and it wasn't looking good. I had never killed a pony before and would never want to, but he might force my had. But at this range, there was no way he would miss with that shotgun, either.

“Doc? Who're you...” I heard Kusafiri call out, and heard him trotting over. When he saw what was happening, he quickly drew his sabre, and shouted. Ginger Beer was there with his pistol seconds later. I watched the stallion with the shotgun look around at us three, then heave a small sigh. He put his shotgun down, and I lowered, but didn't holster, my magical energy pistol.

“Ah know when Ah'm outnumba'd. So... whatcha plannin'?”

I blinked in confusion. “I'm sorry?” I asked. It was an odd question from the stallion.

“Ah said, whatcha plannin'? Y'all gon kill me right here, o' take me t'a hideout, torture me there?” he asked.

I raised an eyebrow, then looked at my gathered companions. We all looked back at the stallion at the same time, confusion evident on our faces.

“Excuse me?” I asked. This time, it was the stallion's turn to look confused. He tilted his head and stared at us.

“Y'all three ain't raidas?” he asked. I shook my head, and stuck my MEP back into my saddlebag. My companions took the cue and stowed their weapons.

“No, we're not,” I assured him.

“Prove it.”

“Um... how about the fact we're all wearing Stable barding?” I offered. That seemed to placate the stallion, who relaxed a bit.

“Y'all from a Stable?”

“We just said that,” Ginger Beer said with a bit of a grunt. I shot a glance at him, and he gave me a bit of a shrug. I looked back at the mysterious, hat-wearing stallion.

“Yes. We were looking for Bakersmill, to talk trade,” I explained. I didn't exactly trust the pony, so I wasn't going to tell him every detail, but the truth couldn't hurt our chances, could it?

The stallion considered it for a while, then nodded. “Well, it just so happens y'all found me. Bakasmill's best procura o' items,” he said with a note of pride.

“Procurer of items?” I asked.

“Scavenga,” he corrected simply, smiling a bit.

I chuckled and nodded. “Could you take us there?” I asked. It was fairly obvious where the settlement was, but if this pony was truly from there, it might help if we approached with somepony from the town, instead of just waltzing in on our own.

“Sho' can! Muh name's Gumbo. Gumbo Pot,” Gumbo introduced himself as, tapping the brim of his hat and grinning. He seemed a lot more amicable, now that we'd established that we weren't going to kill each other. “Y'all just follow me, an' I take ya there.”

~~O~~

Our guide was highly talkative, so I was thankful our trip was a short one. All we had to do was cross the river via the arching bridge, and then trot up to the mill two blocks away. The entire time, Gumbo had something to say, about how well the settlement was doing, how great the ponies there were, how great the weather was, and other such things. It got to be irritating, but thankfully he was harmless.

“This be the mill,” he said at long last, indicating the building. It was one of the tallest in Bakersmill at three storeys, and made of weathered red brick. A matching wall, supported and added onto by rusting sky waggons and other pieces of scrap metal surrounded the entire complex, and all we could see were the top two storeys of the mill, and the second floor of a handsome looking farmhouse. A single gate stood as the only entrance.

Gumbo Pot trotted up to the gate and knocked out a distinct two-three-one rhythm with his hoof. The gate slid aside on a track, squealing slightly as it did. Two guardsponies stood on the other side, pointing pistols at us. I took a step back out of instinct, but Gumbo put out a hoof to stop me.

“S'alright. They with me,” Gumbo assured the guards.

“Alright. Just uh... no sudden movements, and don't even think of drawing weapons,” one of the guards, a mare, said.

“Don't worry, we're not here to cause trouble,” I assured the guardsmare, following Gumbo as he led us into the compound.

It was a beautiful place. The path we were on led right up to the farmhouse, a small, two-storey building with a wraparound porch. It was set to the left of the mill, which was pressed up against the river. I was surprised to see the wheel of the mill still turning after all this time. Behind the house and the mill were two long, redbrick sheds. A pair of ponies wandered past the house, heading toward the sheds.

Our guide began leading us to the house, and a voice suddenly called out to us. “Gumbo! What'd I tell you?” The voice was female, and while accented, was not as heavy as Gumbo's.

“Not to bring random ponies around,” the stallion said sheepishly, bowing his head and pushing the hat down to cover his eyes.

“And what'd you go and do?”

“Aw, these ones alright, Mama. Not raidas o' nothin',”  he assured the voice.

A moment later, the door to the house opened, and an earth pony mare stepped out. She was elderly, which I could tell even from a distance. She trotted over, and I noted that she was rather on the plump side. I wondered if Bakersmill may have had a surplus of food, to give her that body type.

The mare trotted up to us, shaking her head. “Sisters above, Gumbo. I swear, when they were linin' you up at the gene pool, you took the high dive into the shallow end. Get outta here, go make yourself useful somewhere,” she said.

Gumbo nodded and tapped the brim of his hat before trotting off. The mare looked at us and chuckled softly. I noted she was a good head shorter than the rest of us. Even Kusafiri was taller than her.

“Sorry about that. Gumbo's a good scavenger, but sometimes I'd swear he's got nothing between his ears. My name is Praline Sweet, but most around here call me Mama Praline. Now, and with all due respect I ask this, but what in the name of all that is good are y'all doin' in Bakersmill?” she asked.

“My name is Doctor String Bean. This is Kusafiri, and Ginger Beer,” I explained, indicating my companions with a wave of my hoof. “We're here... because, frankly, we need help.”

Praline looked at us for a moment, as if judging the sincerity of my words, before bursting out in laughter. “Oh, my. First time I've ever heard of somepony needin' help from Bakersmill, not the other way around. Y'all look tired. Come on into the house, let's get y'all somethin' to drink.”

I smiled and followed. My companions weren't far behind, looking around as we went inside.

“Y'all from a Stable.” Praline's tone had it more of a statement, than a question. She must have seen our barding.

“Were from a Stable,” Ginger Beer corrected.

“Oh?” Praline looked back at him.

“There was an accident. Only twenty of us made it out,” I explained.

Praline nodded solemnly. “I'm sorry to hear about your loss,” she said softly, leading us through the house. For being a relic of a time long past, the house was well kept. Everything was reasonably clean, and fixed up. It was a true home, not simply shelter. The elderly mare let us to the back of the house, where the kitchen was, and collected a few water-filled bottles of Sparkle-Cola. She removed the caps, and placed them in a small box near the sink, then passed the bottles to us. I took a long sip from mine, eager to have a drink of relatively clean water.

“Thank you, Miss Praline,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, no need for the 'miss' part. Mama Praline, or Praline, works just fine,” she said with a return smile, sipping from her own water. “So. Y'all need help from Bakersmill? If you're looking for shelter, I'm unfortunately going to have to turn you away. The reason I don't like Gumbo bringing others in is we simply have no more room.”

“Oh no, we have shelter, not far up the road. While there many be enough room there, what we're lacking is food,” I explained.

Praline nodded in understanding. “Ah, I see. Well...” she looked out the back window. I followed her gaze and my eyes widened in surprise. Somehow, there was a small crop of admittedly dreary looking wheat along the river's edge, behind the mill. If they could do it, I reasoned we would be able to as well, at least to some degree. Praline looked over at us, and continued. “Our food supplies are not infinite. We've got the town to take from, and a small crop. But I still have to feed twelve ponies, Doctor.”

“So... you can't help?” Kusafiri asked quietly from the table. Praline sighed softly and shook her head.

“Sorry, Kusafiri. I can't. I want to, but we just don't have the supplies. Perhaps if I...” she blinked, as if a sudden thought hit her, then she smiled a little. “There might be something.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Perhaps we may be able to solve your little conundrum after all. We used to have a good trade route with Neigh Orleans, but recently we've lost contact with them. If you could get some of your ponies together, and get our trade route back up and running, we'll be able to trade with your little group as well,” Praline suggested.

I looked at my companions, then back at Praline. “Could you give us some time to think about it?” I asked.

She smiled warmly at me. “Of course, dear. When you've decided, come on down to the mill.” She left out the back door, leaving me in the kitchen with Kusafiri and Ginger Beer.

“What do you think?” I asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“I'm down. I'd love to go see the city,” Kusafiri said, a grin on his face. I chuckled, admiring his enthusiasm.

“Kusafiri, if something took out their trade route, it's going to be dangerous,” I pointed out.

“That's okay! I can handle myself. Besides, I won't be alone.”

“True. Ginger?”

“I'm not so sure,” he admitted, sipping his water. “That's a bit of a ways away, and I kind of want to be with my kids. And besides, other than Peach Tea I'm the only one that knows how to work a weapon. I don't want to be away from Hope for too long, at least not until I can teach others to defend it,” he explained.

I nodded in understanding. “Good point,” I said.

“We don't have a choice though, Ginger,” Kusafiri said. “We need that food.”

Ginger Beer nodded, sipping his water. “I know, and I understand. But I'm not going to be going with you, unless I absolutely need to,” he said.

“That's okay,” I assured him. “We'll get a team together. Maybe Lode Stone or Ngao. I'll go find Praline, tell her we'll help. Get some rest, you two earned it,” I said, getting up from the table. I finished off my water and put the bottle down, then left out the back door and made my way toward the mill, watching with fascination as the giant wheel turned. It was mesmerizing to watch, and I was so enthralled I nearly crashed into the side of the mill, instead of going through the door.

The inside of the mill was empty, and a little cramped. A large crankshaft turned with the wheel, filling and it was rather loud. I looked around, trying to see if anypony was there and I just couldn't see them as my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness.

“Hello?” I called out over the din of the gears turning.

“Up here!” a voice called out from upstairs. I quickly trotted to them and climbed up. An earth pony stallion that looked much like Gumbo Pot stood there with Praline, the only difference being his colours were reversed: where Gumbo was grey with a fiery red mane, this stallion was red with a grey mane. He working on the grind wheel, which was disconnected from the rest of the gears so that it wasn't turning.

“Can Ah help ya?” he asked. His voice had the same accent as Gumbo, a thicker version of Praline's. He didn't look at me, still working on the gears.

“I was told to come by?”

“Oh, y'all must be that stallion Mama was tellin' me 'bout,” he said with a grin. “Name's Stew Pot. Y'all met my brother, Gumbo?” As he spoke, he he finally turned to look at me and extended a hoof.

I took his hoof and shook it, smiling. “Yes, I have.”

“Quite a character, innee?”

“Indeed,” I said with a soft laugh.

“Well now, Stew, Doctor Bean and his friends are going to solve our little trading problem,” Praline put in as she trotted upstairs to come greet us.

Stew Pot nodded. “Ah see. Good to hear we got somepony t'help. So, y'all know anything about Neigh Orleans, friend?” He pronounced it “Neigh Awlins”. I shook my head, and Stew chuckled. “Alright. Let's all head upstairs, quieter there.”

The three of us trotted up to the third level of the mill. It was mostly empty, aside from a number of sacks similar to those downstairs, and a winch jutting from the side to carry them up and down. Stew Pot shifted one of the sacks and sat down. Praline and I followed suit, settling down on. The sack felt like it was full of grain or something. Sure enough, it was quiet, compared to the other floors.

“ 'kay. Ah see y'all got one of them PipBucks, might be good to jot this down,” Stew told me.

I nodded and immediately lifted my hoof to start taking notes with my PipBuck.

“Neigh Awlins be a nice place, but it's dangerous. Split into two sections, North Neigh Awlins, an' South Neigh Awlins. North be the place y'all want to go. Right along the Muddy River is the Fancy Quarter. Can't miss it, they got signs everywhere pointin' to it.” He coughed into his shoulder, then continued. “Down the close end o' the Fancy Quarter is the first place Ah'd stop, place called The Grand. Big ol' hotel, whole block o' the city. Y'all want to get to Bourbon, big street runs right through the Fancy Quarter, or Fancy street. When ya get to Bridle street, you're there. That's where the trader, Tumbleweed, was from.”

“The Grand is the biggest settlement of ponies in Neigh Orleans. Well, nice, civil ponies, that is,” Praline Sweet put in. “Most of the traders have to pass through there at some point, hence why it's so busy.”

“Ayup. An' if'n ya don't find him there, it's an hour walk to the other end of the Fancy Quarter. Down by the river there is Celestial Square, an' the Temple o' The Celestial Sisters. Most just call it the Temple. He might be there.”

“The Temple of the Celestial Sisters?” I asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. I, like most of the other ponies in the Stable, believed in the infinite power of Celestia and Luna, considering them near goddesses. But, at least in my case, I didn't believe in that enough to build an entire temple to them.

“Yes, I know. A little over the top, but it's a pre-war building. Somepony obviously liked those two enough to make it. In any case, the pony that runs it is a good stallion, he'll help no matter what,” Praline assured me.

“Yeah. Crazy ol' bastard thinks he some kinda prophet for Celestia, or somethin',” Stew said with a derisive snort.

I chuckled. “Well, he can believe a talking rock named Tom is the saviour of all ponykind, as long as he can provide us with help.” I couldn't help but grin as I said it, because of how ridiculous it sounded. Stew let out a bark of laughter, and even Praline smiled. “Alright. So first The Grand, and then the Temple. Anything else I should know?” I asked, glancing down at my PipBuck to make sure I had gotten everything so far.

“Yeah. Y'all gunna cross the river an' keep goin', 'till the road splits off, an' both take ya to Neigh Awlins. Y'all want to take the top road. Ah'm sure y'all can figure it out, but ya definitely don't wanna go wanderin' to South Neigh Awlins,” Stew Pot said.

“And why's that?”

“South Neigh Orleans is the raider capital of the area,” Praline said softly. “Most of them come from the Ninth Sector, a neighbourhood along the Muddy River. It's very, very dangerous to go through there, at any time... and going near the Ninth Sector is usually a death sentence.”

I nodded solemnly. No Ninth Sector, and no South Neigh Orleans. Easy enough.

“Y'all got supplies?” Stew Pot asked.

“Some. A few weapons, some food. Money, not a lot though,” I replied, lowering my PipBuck.

Praline and Stew both stared at me for a while, and I shifted a little, feeling nervous. Had I said something wrong? Eventually, Stew burst out laughing, and Praline gave me a small smile.

“Hun, your fancy Stable money isn't of much use here, aside from kindling and toilet paper. I'm sure you could trade it for something, but here, we use a unique currency. We use bottlecaps,” Praline explained.

I blinked. “Bottlecaps?”

“Yup. Pre-war, lotta ponies drank this stuff called Sparkle-Cola and Sunrise Sarsparilla. Lotta beer, too. Thousands upon thousands of bottles. Dunno why caps, but there ain't no shortage of 'em,” Stew assured me with a grin.

“I... see.” I frowned a bit. Bottlecaps. “And how am I supposed to get some bottlecaps?”

“Ah can get y'all a few. If ya got spare supplies, take 'em with ya. Sure to be somepony that can trade with y'all.”

I nodded. “Alright. Well, we'll see if we can't fix this trading issue of yours. We'll be heading back home, organize a proper party. By tomorrow, we should be back through here on the way to Neigh Orleans.” I stood up and stretched out a little.

“Sounds like a plan. Good luck to you, String Bean. We'll make sure you have a few caps to take with you when you pass through,” Praline said. She stood up and smiled warmly. She trotted over and gave me a hug around the neck, then went downstairs.

“Y'all take care. Neigh Awlins can be dangerous, but it's beautiful, too,” Stew Pot said as we headed down together.

I looked over at him and nodded. “Thanks for the advice. Sorry we couldn't stay very long.”

“Aw, that's alright. Y'all welcome back any time. So, where y'all set up?”

“Hope Manor. At least, that's what we called it. Out by the train station,” I explained, ducking under a low hanging beam. “It's a nice place. Room for us all.”

“Cool stuff. An' y'all's Stable? What happened?”

“Accident,” was all I could bear to say. I stood in the doorframe and shrugged. “I'll talk to you about it some other time, maybe. Bit too fresh right now.”

“Take your time. Luck, Doc.”

~~O~~

We made it back to Hope by late evening, and by then I was about ready to get some sleep. I trotted through the door, and was surprised to hear... music? Yes, I definitely heard music, a very energetic brass tune coming from...somewhere in the house. I blinked and looked around in confusion, by my two companions had no answers, and looked just as confused.

“Dad!” Fire Walker had been crossing the hall when she saw us come in, and the young filly ran to hug Ginger Beer around the neck. “You gotta see this! We found a radio in Mtoto's room, and Ngao fixed it up and we found a radio station and-” she didn't seem to need to take a breath to say it.

Ginger laughed and cut her off. “Alright, let's go see this radio of yours.”

We all trotted into the living room, where most of the kids were staying, as well as Berry Medley, who'd apparently taken on the role of mother for all of the orphaned ones. They were crowded around a small wooden radio set on a table, the front dial glowing and flickering on occasion. The brassy jazz tune trailed off with one long note, and a voice cut in.

“Good evening fillies and gentlecolts! Hope you're all doin' alright. We were going to do a weather report, then we realized nopony cares.” I heard the sound of a sheaf of papers flying, and couldn't help but chuckle.

“So how 'bout some news instead? If you're looking for work, you're good with your hooves, and don't mind a bit of bucking, Wise Apple Plantation's looking for some new help. And for Celestia's sake, folks, no, I have no idea what that rumbling last night was. You can stop asking, but if you have any information, I'd be happy to hear it. In the meantime, have a little Fat Cat, who Ain't Misbehavin', if that's what you're implyin'.”

The voice cut out to be replaced by a piano song. I chuckled. “Well, now that's unexpected. How'd you find this?” I asked to nopony in particular.

“It was Dewdrop who found the actual station,” Berry Medley said, looking over at me. “She was fiddling with her PipBuck, and discovered that there was a radio signal. Then Mtoto and Ngao found the radio,” she said, indicating a small zebra colt nearby when she mentioned Mtoto. I recognized him as Ngao and Elekezi's son.

“There's actually a functioning radio station?” It was a rhetorical question, more out of disbelief than anything else. I sat down in a nearby chair, shaking my head. “That's incredible. Has he mentioned where he broadcasts from?” I asked to Berry. I was intensely curious now, and would like to visit the radio station.

“Um... Jazzland, I think. Don't know where that is. And he says his name is DJ Shorty. Why do you ask?”

“I'm just curious,” I replied simply, smiling and sitting down on a chair near the fireplace. I spent the next hour or two listening to music with the children, then got up to gather most of the adults in the study across the hall for a short meeting. I settled into a chair with a soft groan, rather tired from the day's walk. I looked around at the assembled group of equines.

“We found the ponies at Bakersmill,” I began. “They've agreed to help us with trading, but of course, there's no such thing as a free lunch. Their main trading partner from Neigh Orleans has disappeared.”

“Let me guess... we need to go find him?” Ngao asked.

“Bingo. Praline Sweet, the pony who runs Bakersmill, wants us to go to Neigh Orleans, and find out what happened to that trader,” I explained. I let it sink in for a moment, looking at the assembled ponies. “I'm going to need some help. Kusafiri has already volunteered, and I want another small group, no more than four. This is probably going to be dangerous, and we'll be away for what may be a long time. I don't want to take anypony away from their friends and families, so this is all on a volunteer basis. If Kusafiri and I are the only two who want to go, then we'll be the only ones going.”

The room was quiet for a bit, while everypony looked at each other, weighing the options. I could see in their faces that few wanted to go, and would prefer taking time to relax and take everything in first. I was thus surprised when a hoof went up.

“I'll go.”

I looked up to see who it was. I was even more surprised to see that it was Peach Tea. “You sure?” I asked.

“Of course. Always wanted to see the city. Besides, I'm a big mare, I can take care of myself.”

I nodded. “Anypony else?”

“Why not?” A voice said, and another hoof went up. This one belonged to Lode Stone. “You guys could use a bit of flying help,” he said.

I nodded again. “Okay. We'll be leaving early on, so try to get some sleep. Anypony else have anything to say? Questions, concerns?”

Ginger nodded and stood up. “Yeah. With you gone, what happens if we have a medical emergency?”

“I know some first aid. My sister was one of Doctor Kugusa's nurses,” Elekezi replied. “It's not much, but with the medical supplies it should be enough. Besides, I don't think we'll have much to worry about.”

Ginger Beer nodded, satisfied. “Alright, then I just have one other thing to say. We don't know what's out there, so it would probably be best to learn how to defend ourselves. If anypony here wants to learn, I'll be teaching self-defence and shooting starting tomorrow,” he offered. A few ponies nodded in interest.

“Alright. Are we all good?” I asked. Nods and murmurs of assent. “Good. Let's get some sleep, everypony. We have a long few days ahead of us.”

The group got up and broke up, wandering around the mansion. For my part, I hauled myself out of my chair and went to the kitchen to get a quick bite to eat. I grabbed a box of candied apples and a bottle of Sparkle-Cola, then trotted upstairs. I had chosen a small room at the far end of the house, overlooking the river, as my own. I trotted in and sighed softly. I removed my barding and folded it, setting it on the chair for the nearby writing desk, and finally removed my PipBuck. I turned on the device's lamp to give myself some light to eat by, then set it on the bedside table. I ate an apple or two, then closed the box and sipped at my cola. When I finshed it, I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling.

Thoughts came and went, and I was unable to calm my mind and get some sleep. I was worried about a number of things. The mental state of the the group, for one. Sure, they may all seem on the outside to be happy with their new situation, but it could be a facade. I was afraid that, while I was away, somepony would end up with a mental breakdown from the stress. I was worried too about the safety of Hope while I was away, even though there seemed to be no immediate danger. I was worried that we wouldn't make it back from Neigh Orleans, if it was as dangerous as Stew Pot said it would be.

In an effort to put my mind at ease, I pulled out the earpiece on my PipBuck and fit it to my left ear. I picked it up and checked the radio signals, and sure enough, there was one, registered as 90.1 FM Radio Neigh Orleans. I selected it and listened to a stallion with one of the roughest, yet surprisingly soothing voices I'd ever heard. He sang about a street in Neigh Orleans. I ended up dozing to a soft trumpet solo and finally got some sleep.

Chapter 4 - Neigh Orleans

Chapter 4 – Neigh Orleans

We stopped for only a short time in Bakersmill. Praline Sweet met us at the gates and provided us with what she called a care package: a few cakes of something she called hardtack, some dried apple chips and other various foods, as well as a bit of filtered water from the river. She had even included a couple dozen caps, which I had to explain to my companions as we trotted away from the town.

“Bottle caps? Seriously?” Peach Tea asked, floating one ahead of her.

“Yes, bottle caps. I'm not sure how values were attached to them, but they were,” I said as we trotted along the highway. It curved through town, then followed the river toward Neigh Orleans. According to Praline, there was a split in the road where we would cross a second bridge on the northern route into the city.

“Makes sense though. Can't exactly have money if there ain't no banks working,” Lode pointed out.

“Just seems like a strange thing to pick, you know? Like, why not keep with bits?” she asked, pocketing the cap.

“Not sure. I don't think Praline and the others are kidding around, though.” I shifted the pouch in my saddlebag a bit to make sure it stopped jangling so much.

“She seems rather sweet. I hope everypony's like that,” Peach continued, apparently just trying to fill the quiet as much as she could.

“Probably not. Everypony was armed, and they had guards. You don't need guards if everpony's pleasant.”

“Maybe they're hiding something,” Lode Stone offered.

I shook my head. “They're not hiding anything, aside from trying to keep their food stores away from any criminals,” I said confidently.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” Peach Tea said after a moment. “Hope we don't have to fight or kill anypony though.”

“I'm hoping to avoid that as well. The faster we get into town, and the faster we make contact with the ponies there, the better.”

“If we gotta fight, make sure to stick behind me,” Lode Star directed to Peach, grinning a bit. “I'm good in a fight.”

“I have a shotgun, you know,” she pointed out.

“Do you even know how to use it?”

“Of course I do! I worked in the armoury, ass,” Peach Tea said with a glare.

I glanced over at Kusafiri, who was trying not to laugh. I couldn't help but grin as well.

“You on the other hand, have a rusty metal stick,” Peach Tea continued.

“It's a sabre!” Lode Stone was carrying with him the twin to the sabre Kusafiri had. They were rusty, but still reasonably sharp, and better than nothing. I knew I personally wouldn't want to be hit by one. “They're the standard weapon for Destriers in the REA!”

“Yeah, but aren't you a garbage pony?” Kusafiri put in. Peach Tea started giggling at that.

“Alright, enough,” I said, chuckling a little. “Though it may not be glamourous, garbage ponies were still essential to maintaining the Stable.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Lode said happily.

“Oh, alright, fine.” Peach Tea sighed as she said it, but I could see the grin on her face. Kusafiri chuckled.

We walked on in silence for a few more steps, before Peach added: “You still stink, though.”

“Hey!”

I laughed with the three of them, grinning at Lode, who even managed to smile after a bit. We continued walking, spirits a little higher after that.

It ended up taking us most of the rest of the day to get to Neigh Orleans, and even then we weren't in the city proper. The sun was dipping below the horizon as we approached, and I felt butterflies in my stomach, a little frightened of the unknown there. The city spread out ahead of us, straddling the Muddy River that ran along our left side. It was large, but nowhere near the size of a pre-war metropolis like Manehattan or Chicacolt. Ahead of us, what I knew as South Neigh Orleans, looked much like Bakersmill: short, squat buildings for the most part, with a number of larger factories and warehouses along the waterfront. Across the river, the buildings were taller toward the middle, transitioning to shorter ones on the edges, with fewer factories. I couldn't see any details beyond that in the darkening light, not at this distance anyway.

As we walked, a sign loomed along the road. I looked up at it. It was written in two languages, surrounding a fleur-de-lys. Above it read 'Welcome to Neigh Orleans!', below, 'Bienvenue a Neigh Orleans!' Along the bottom of the sign was a tag line similar to the one on Bakersmill's sign: 'Let the good times roll!', followed by a population count (though I highly doubted there remained half a million ponies) and 'Laissez les bon temps rouler!' The top right corner of the sign was sheared off, and a number of bullet holes graced it. The paint was faded and chipped in some places, but altogether still legible.

“What's that crazy language underneath everything?” Lode Stone asked, flicking on the lamp of his PipBuck and leaning closer to the sign, as if that would help him understand.

“It's Fancy,” I said.

“I know it's fancy, but what is it?”

Peach Tea giggled, and I shook my head. “That's the name of the language.”

“How'd you know all this?” Lode asked, looking over at me.

“My mother spoke it. She taught it to me,” I explained. “I can still remember a little, though I'm rather rusty. Probably not enough to carry on a long conversation.”

“I think that's pretty cool. So they speak Fancy in Neigh Orleans?” Peach Tea asked.

I shrugged. “To some degree, apparently. Come on, let's keep going, we'll figure it out once we get to town.”

Just past the sign, the road split: one branch turned left and headed north, the other continued ahead of us. Remembering Praline and Stew's advice, I turned and led the group across the bridge to our left. I noted that, like the one in Bakersmill, this bridge arched high over the river below, allowing us to see more of the city once we'd reached the mid-point. I could make out a faint few lights, and the dark shape of a tall, spired building, a light flashing atop it.

“Wish I could see it better,” Kusafiri said wistfully.

I chuckled and nodded. “Me too.” I was intensely curious as to what the city looked like, and how it had stood the ravages of time and war.

We trotted down the far side of the bridge, and after a half hour's trot, we'd entered the city's outskirts. The sad looking trees and dried grass gave way to buildings. They were sparse, like in Bakersmill, just a few houses and small businesses, and nopony seemed to be around. The quiet of the city and the rapidly darkening sky were starting to put me on edge.

I was just about to suggest something when Lode Stone spoke. “We should stop.”

Peach Tea giggled. “Scared, Mr. Destrier?”

“No, but it's getting dark, and it's probably better if we ain't stumbling around like idiots,” he pointed out.

I nodded in agreement. “Got a point,” I said.

“What about one of these houses?” Kusafiri suggested.

I looked over at the nearest one and shrugged. I trotted toward it and knocked a hoof on the door.

“What are you doing?” the zebra asked.

“Just making sure nopony lives here first,” I said. If ponies still remained in Bakersmill, who's to say there weren't some on the fringes of Neigh Orleans? Nopony responded, so I tried the handle. It was unlocked, and so I just walked on in.

We quickly checked around, but the small, single-storey house was empty. Lode Stone raided the kitchen for some extra food, while Kusafiri searched for a way to cook it. While I poured over my PipBuck's map, he found a barbecue and some charcoal in the backyard of the house. With matches that Lode Stone found in the kitchen, we managed to get it lit and some tins of baked beans and rice warming over the charcoal.

“I dib the big room!” Peach Tea called out.

“Need somepony to keep you company? Big bed in there,” Lode Stone said as he trotted in with a plat balanced on his head. Kusafiri followed behind with a plate of his own, the food balanced on them.

“You realize I'm a lesbian, right?” Peach Tea said with a chuckle. She thanked Kusafiri for the food, and pushed aside her shotgun that she'd been cleaning.

“And?”

I couldn't help but laugh as I took some food from Lode. Even Peach Tea grinned.

“Not to mention, I'm taken,” she pointed out.

“Polyamory exists.”

“You really need to get laid,” Peach Tea said simply. Kusafiri burst out laughing at that, nearly spilling his food as he brought it inside to the table.

Lode Stone simply chuckled and sat down at the kitchen table with the rest of us. “Whatever,” he said. “So, Doc, how far from here?”

I looked up and nodded, to indicate I'd heard him. I made sure to swallow my bite of food before answering. “Well, our first stop will be the Grand. By my estimates, it's a two hour walk from here, but I don't know what the streets are like. I did mark it's general area on my PipBuck though...” I removed it and passed it around so that the others could see and remember it. Once it was passed back to me, I took it and set it back on my hoof.

“The Grand, huh? Sounds pretty fancy,” Peach Tea said.

I chuckled and nodded, then returned to my dinner. When we all finished, we retired to various parts of the house. Peach Tea got the master bedroom, and Kusafiri got a smaller one across the hall. Lode Stone and I opted for two of the couches in the living room. As with the night before, sleep was a long time coming for me, and for a good long few minutes I listened to Lode Stone snore next to me. Eventually, I managed to drift off into a somewhat restful sleep.

~~O~~

“Up.” I watched Kusafiri flung a couch cushion at Lode Stone while I spoke. We'd all been up for at least fifteen minutes, waiting on the lazy pegasus to wake up. When it became clear he intended on sleeping in, Kusafiri suggested our current course of action.

The cushion landed with a thump on the pegasus, causing him to shout and flail his hooves. He rolled off the couch and hit the ground hard, glaring up at me.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” I said with a chuckle. “We were supposed to get moving at first light.”

“Ten more minutes,” Lode whined.

“You had fifteen. Up.”

He reluctantly stood, and grabbed his sabre. “Do I at least have time to eat?” he asked.

“Eat on the road, I want to get going as soon as we can,” I explained, floating over a portion of hardtack from my saddlebags. “The quicker we get to The Grand, the quicker we can get home.”

Despite Lode Stone's grumblings, we were back on the road within minutes. The clouds were thicker today, but still broken up enough to allow the sun to shine through. It had the effect of making the city appear much more welcoming than the night we'd arrived: instead of oppressive darkness, and a fear of the unknown that lay beyond the range of our PipBuck's lamps, we could see the houses and buildings around us in much clearer detail. Nevertheless, it was still incredibly eerie, and incredibly empty. There was no sound aside from the wind and our own noises... and nopony around. The wind rustled the deadened leaves on the trees around us, and a newspaper blew across the road.

“This place gives me the creeps. Too quiet,” Peach Tea said softly.

“Come on, let's get going,” I said, motioning for them to follow. We trotted past a few more houses, and I began to take note of the increase in debris on the road. A number of rusted sky waggons, ranging from simple family vehicles to larger buses, were strewn about where they'd crashed. Most held the skeletons of their occupants, including a sky waggon with the driver still strapped to the harness at the front. The vehicle's nose was in the air, the pegasus' skeleton dangling above our heads. Kusafiri looked up at it in morbid fascination as we passed under the bony hooves. The sky waggon was just one of many other vehicles crashed in the streets, the grand majority of the others being simple horse-drawn carriages.

“The fuck's that thing?” Lode Stone asked, pointing with a hoof.

I looked over to see a strange vehicle, radically different from the others. It was an ugly, brutish looking vehicle, and bore a resemblance to the train in that respect. I guessed it had to be griffon-make. It had eight large, rubber wheels, plenty of sharp angles, and a long, sloping back. A huge gun was mounted in a turret at the front of the vehicle, and the hatch on top of it, as well as the three viewports at the front, were blown open. The vehicle's paint was burned in multiple areas, but I could still see a distinct symbol on the side: a faded hourglass on a shield.

“I'm not sure. I've never seen anything like it,” I admitted, trotting over to take a closer look.

“Careful!” Peach Tea called out.

I nodded and leaned in to examine the vehicle. There was a large hole torn in the bottom of the vehicle toward the back, through which I looked in. The vehicle was empty, with a few smears of blood but no bodies.

“Some kind of griffon tank,” I said simply after a moment.

“Why is there a griffon tank in Neigh Orleans?” Kusafiri asked, climbing on top and sticking his head inside.

“Likely for the same reason there's a griffon train at the station,” I offered with a shrug. I couldn't guess why griffons would have a stake in the city, but perhaps somepony at the Grand could answer. Or perhaps it was simply a pre-war mystery, one with no clear answer.

We left the tank behind, and the mystery only deepened for me as we passed it. Three fancy carriages were wrecked behind the tank, one being riddled with bullet holes, another on its side with a large portion blown off, and the third a burnt husk barely more than wheels and a harness. A number of skeletons remained in these vehicles, all of them equine, though whether pony or zebra, I couldn't tell. The carriage that had been shot at was covered in splotches of brown, dried blood, and one of the skeletons had a metal suitcase cuffed to his foreleg. I debated for a moment taking it to see what was inside, but on closer inspection, the case had been ripped open and emptied.

“Damn,” Lode Stone said quietly, looking at the carnage.

“Got that right,” I mumbled, looking down the road. Trailing this one-time convoy was another griffon vehicle, this one stranger than the other. It had a metal cab, elongated and thin toward the end in an almost hawkish way. There were two wheels at the front, supplemented by two sets of tank treads behind them. An open-air bed took up the rear portion of the vehicle, with a machine gun mounted on a pintle above the cab. A griffon skeleton was slumped against the gun, a single eye socket remaining, as the other half of his skull was a ragged hole. On the side of the vehicle, I noticed the same hourglass and shield symbol as on the tank.

“Ew,” Peach Tea said, giving the vehicle a wide berth. I trotted past as well, eyes set further down the road. I wanted to leave this morbid sight behind and get on with our current mission. The images of the dead, their blank, grinning skulls, were hard to shake at this point. I'd seen dead ponies before, but it was still disconcerting to see. Mercifully, as we continued down the road, the dead seemed to become less numerous, with only the occasional sky waggon crash or skeleton, giving my mind less morbid material to work with. We walked on, past the stout houses and the buildings. A billboard stretched over the road at one point, bearing the faded image of a zebra in a suit, playing a trumpet. A sky waggon was embedded in the sign, covering most of the text, but I still saw the letters “SATC” and “MO” as we passed beneath it.

For the next half hour we walked, the scenery changing gradually around us. The short, single-storey houses and businesses gave way to older, taller buildings that reached to two storeys at the very least, many of them with balconies on the second floor, made of rusty wrought iron. The streets thinned a little, going from the four lanes into the city to simply two. It was still dead quiet, and the four of us were alone... for the time being. We were passing a sign advertising a local club down in the Fancy Quarter, when two figures stepped out from an alleyway, seemingly appearing out of thin air and causing Peach Tea to jump a little with a gasp.

They were zonies, that much I could tell off the bat. They looked like zebras, aside from the fact that one had stripes of red, the other, blue, and the red striped one had a unicorn horn sticking out of his head. The red one also had a pistol hanging loosely from his side, while the blue one had a large sledgehammer strapped across his back. Neither of them looked rather friendly, though I did try and keep my hopes up and not judge them on threathening appearances alone. After all, the four of us were armed, and yet posed little threat of our own.

“Well, well, well. What have we got here?” the red zony asked with a wolfish grin.

I had originally held a bit of hope that these zebras would help us, or at least be friendly... but that grin put me off. I looked over my shoulder to speak to the others, only to spot more equines stepping out from behind cover. A light yellow unicorn mare with far too many knives strapped to her body rose above a cabbage cart next to Peach Tea, grinning wildly at her. A stallion stood nearby with an odd weapon, consisting of a metal shaft with what appeared to be a shotgun shell duct-taped to the end. In total, eight equines surrounded the four of us in a half-circle.

“A couple of lost travellers, hmm?” the red zony continued, grinning the entire time. “Thought you could just waltz on in here, not even drop by and say hello? Shame on you. Guess good old southern hospitality really is dead.” A couple of his companions chuckled at that.

“We don't want any trouble,” I said, attempting to straighten up a bit so I looked a little more confident than I felt. “We're just passing through.”

The zony laughed. “He thinks he can just pass through!” The others joined in the laugh, and I felt incredibly uneasy. “Nu-uh. That's not how it works here, right, Desoto?” he asked, looking over at the zony next to him.

The blue zony smirked and nodded. “Nope.” His tone was little more than a growl, and the look in his eyes when he looked at me was absolutely murderous.

“If you're looking for caps, we don't have any,” I assured the leader. It was a partial lie. We had caps, but a mere pittance. Still, they seemed rather desperate, enough to kill for a couple dozen caps, or even kill for just two.

“I like this one, boss,” the mare said. I looked over to see her edged up against Peach Tea, gently running a knife down the rear of her flank, while Peach looked on. I caught her eye and she gulped nervously, looking helpless. “Can we keep her?”

“Well, we'll just have to see if there's anything left of her when we're done. So, fancy pants,” the red zony said, looking at me and tilting a little to show off his pistol. “Everything y'all are carrying, and just maybe we'll let you four walk. Consider it a fee for getting into the city.”

“Please. I don't think either of us want this. Just let us pass,” I said, still attempting to placate them. I didn't want to have to kill anypony... I had never done it before. As a doctor, I'd taken an oath of ethics, that began 'First, do no harm'. I had lived my entire life by that oath, and I didn't want to break it now on account of these violent equines.

“Oh, fine. You want to play it that way? Let's ge-”

The sequence of events that cut him off mid-sentence happened so fast that to me they were little more than a blur. I had just begun to come to terms with the fact we were heading for a fight and I may have to kill these equines, when I saw Peach Tea, out of the corner of my eye, buck the mare with the knives right in the snout. In almost the same movement, her horn flared up with bright pink light and she rotated to point the barrel of the shotgun at the red zony. There was a loud boom, a bright flash, and I felt something warm and wet splatter across the front of my labcoat. I blinked in surprise. One moment, the red zony had been standing there, going for his pistol. The next, his neck was a mess of pulped flesh.

For a moment, nopony reacted. The red zony blinked, and attempted to speak. It came out as little more than gurgle, then he crumpled to the pavement. There was silence.

“Fuck!” a raider to my right called out.

“Rosco!” another shouted.

“Get the fuckers!” this shout came from the one known as Desoto, the blue zony.

I heard the rasp of steel as Lode Stone and Kusafiri drew their sabres, and to my left came the deafening boom again as Peach Tea dispatched the mare with her shotgun. I took a few steps back as Desoto turned to glare at me. He drew his sledgehammer and took a few slow steps toward me, snarling around the shaft of his weapon, his intent clear in his eyes.

I floated out my MEP, pointing it directly at the zony. Point and shoot. How hard could it be? “I'll shoot!” I threatened. It turned out, point and shoot was a lot harder when you were actually looking down the barrel at somepony. With the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I completely forgot about using the targeting S.A.T.S spell in my PipBuck, which might have made it a little easier.

The zony kept coming, in slow, threatening steps. He knew I was dead as soon as he got to me, and guessed I wouldn't do a thing. He saw me as easy prey.

“I'm warning you!”

“Just shoot him, Doc!” Kusafiri shouted. I chanced a glance over at the zebra, watching him engaged in a two-to-one fight against a pair of knife-wielding stallions. He was holding his own rather well, using his small stature and speed to keep away from them.

I brought my attention back to Desoto, who was mere feet away. I took a deep breath, then let my magic pull the trigger.

I'd never fired my magical energy pistol at a pony before. On occasion I'd taken it to the range and shot at targets under the guidance of some guards, but never had I needed to use it in self-defence. I felt a little underwhelmed by the simple Pew! sound that it made, and its thin red beam of crackling magical energy. I didn't expect it to do much, with how underwhelming it was. I was incredibly surprised when the beam hit the zony in the neck, burning a deep, blackened hole, right into his oesophagus. His eyes widened and he stumbled and collapsed to the ground, the sledgehammer falling from his mouth. He gasped for breath, flailing in the dirt, one hoof clutched around his throat.

I stared for a moment, shocked at what I'd done. Then, realizing I had little choice in the matter (I couldn't let him suffer, after all), I pointed the pistol at his head and fired a second shot. This beam of magical energy lanced through the zony's temple, right through his brain, ending his suffering quickly. I looked up to see who needed some aid. Kusafiri managed to kill one of his attackers, and the other had redoubled his efforts to take him down, but Kusafiri was just too fast for the knife-wielding stallion. Lode Stone was holding his own as well against three attackers, using his flight to get around their weapons. Peach Tea seemed fine as well, using her shotgun to great effect against the melee-only raiders.

I turned my attention to one of the three attacking Lode Stone. I took careful aim down the flat top of the MEP and fired two shots in quick succession. Both cut through the pony's side, and he fell to the pavement, dropping a fire axe he'd been swinging wildly at the pegasus. In the ensuing confusion with the other two, Lode Stone was able to kill one with a sabre, and cause the other to run off, shouting about how he hadn't signed up for this.

Within the span of a minute or two, it was over. It felt like much longer to me. In total, we'd killed five of the eight, with the other three having fled at some point in the confusion of battle. I dropped my pistol and stared down at the zony stallion I'd killed.

I felt strange. I was no stranger to death, having had the occasional patient die on my operating table before. In those cases, however, it was never due to my actions that they died. Here, I had ended the life of an equine, taken the most precious of gifts. I had broken my oath. Was it still breaking it if he had intended to kill me, however? Was I right in just killing him, instead of shooting out his leg and letting him live?

Before I could have much time to think about the ethics of my actions, I vomited.

When I was done retching, I looked up to see the others staring at me. “What?” I asked in a hoarse voice.

“You alright, Doc?” Peach Tea asked.

“Mostly. Just... never felt that much adrenaline before.” As sickening as the actions were, being in a fight had sent my brain into overdrive, flooding my body with adrenaline. I didn't want to admit that, as another natural instinct, I quite enjoyed the high. “Never killed... never killed a pony, either,” I added. I looked over at Peach Tea for a moment. ”Why'd you do that?”

“They were trying to kill us, Doc. They would have, too. I... don't like it either, but I had to do it to save us.” I noted that she was looking a little green too, and shaking from all that had happened.

I nodded, then pulled out a bottle of water from my saddlebags to take a quick drink, and watched as my companions each came down from their adrenaline highs. Kusafiri was first, the Peach and finally Lode. Though none of them were sick like I'd been, I noticed a change in their body language as we moved on, especially in young Kusafiri, who was trembling a little. All of them looked sick, and utterly shaken.

“You alright?” I asked him in a quiet voice.

“I think so.” He didn't sound exactly confident.

I reached out and put a hoof gently around his neck. “You'll be fine,” I assured him.

“It's just... it was so fast... and the way he looked at me...” Kusafiri began, but he couldn't finish it. He sniffled a bit, and for a moment, I realized just how young he was. A stallion, sure, but just barely. There was blood all over his barding, and I realized that he must have had it worse: he had to get in close to his target, and actually cut him.

“Come here,” I said, giving him a tight hug. The others looked at me, then at the bodies around us.

“What should we do with 'em?” Lode Stone asked. “Bury 'em?”

“No,” I said, letting Kusafiri go. He looked a little better, but still shaken. “We need to get going. Doubtless those that got away will be back, and with friends. I don't want to be here when they do.”

We got up and left the corpses behind. Within a few minutes, I was a little more calm, but I couldn't get the image of how easy that had been out of my mind. Just two shots, and the zony had died. I found that I could vividly remember his face as he went down, the eyes wide and staring... I shook my head, hoping desperately to get rid of the image. We had a job to focus on, after all. I sighed to myself and kept trotting.

~~O~~

“Check it out!” Peach Tea called out.

I had been thinking, my mind having wandered off elsewhere, when she spoke. I blinked, brought back suddenly out of my reverie, and took a look around. We'd been walking for over half an hour, and had nearly entered the Fancy Quarter. This far into the city, the buildings had changed yet again. This time, the buildings had started to grow closer together, and taller. Now, all were two storey at the least, with most being taller. As we passed into the Fancy Quarter itself, all the buildings were three to four storeys, and pressed up against each other so that an intrepid pony could, if they were skilled or crazy enough, run across the rooftops. This brought the additional effect of making it feel cramped, but at least the taller buildings did provide a fair amount of shade to the street; it was significantly cooler as a result.

“Did anypony catch the name of the street we're on?” I asked, taking a look around for a street sign.

“Bourbon Street,” Kusafiri said.

I nodded, and consulted my PipBuck. We weren't all that far from the Grand, now. “Just three more blocks. It'll be on our left,” I stated, continuing along the road. I could nearly feel the excitement coming off my companions, the incident with the raiders not forgotten, but pushed aside at the thought of seeing ponies that wouldn't, hopefully, try and kill us. Kusafiri was the most excited, and for a time was the one leading us down the road, instead of me, even though I knew the way.

I was quite excited myself. The eerie quiet of the city was starting to wear on me, and I wanted to relax after the raider encounter. When we finally rounded the corner and got our first look at The Grand, my jaw dropped a little. The building certainly lived up to its name: standing an impressive five storeys high, it stretched down Bourbon street from Bridle street to the farthest one, the name of which I didn't know. To our right, it extended another fair distance all the way to Fancy street, where I assume it continued up Fancy to the street down the far end. Along the bottom floor were a number of faded blue banners, each bearing a name: 'The Grand Equestrian Hotel'. On the second and third floors, a balcony stretched around the corner of the building for a few feet along either side, curved in the distinct Neigh Orleans style at the corner. In front of the door, a number of crude walls had been erected, creating a small guard post. In this post were a number of slots, where undoubtedly we were being watched.

Standing on the balcony, on the second floor, was a pony in black barding, a dangerous looking rifle resting against the railing. He looked down at us and whistled sharply. “Hey'all! State yer business!” he called out.

I stopped and looked up at him, eyeing the rifle. I hoped he wouldn't shoot, though with the way the rifle was just leaning, and the fact this zebra wasn't a unicorn zony, I figured he wasn't going to threate us. “I'm Doctor String Bean, this is Kusafiri, Lode Stone, and Peach Tea. We're not here to cause trouble, just looking to trade.”

The guard stared for a few moments, as if judging the validity of my words. We probably looked a little odd, even though I had stowed both Kusafiri's barding and my own labcoat in our saddlebags, as both were covered in gore. I had a feeling if the guard had seen that, he might not have let us in. He nodded after a moment, and I caught him grinning rather happily.

“Aw-right!, welcome to the Grand! Couple of ground rules first. Y'all gunna get searched before ya go in. Y'all gunna have to turn in weapons, all of 'em. Ya plan to sell one, ya give us the ammo instead. Ya wanna sell both? Get a permit. What else...” he tapped the railing for a moment. “Oh! Y'all got drugs? Leave 'em here. Just potions, morphine if ya really need it,” he said.

“Sounds reasonable,” I said. I heard a murmur of assent behind me by the others.

The guard motioned us forward. “Don't worry 'bout nothin'. We all nice folks here. Enjoy yer stay!” he said. The door at the guard post opened, and a single pony trotted out, though I saw a few figures inside, watching us. He was a unicorn, with a long metal box floating behind him.

“Weapons in here, please,” he said. I floated out my MEP and placed it in the box, alongside Peach Tea's shotgun, and Kusafiri and Lode Stone's sabres. The unicorn patted us down to check for other weapons, and finding nothing, nodded toward the door, returning the weapons to the guardpost and stepping back out. He motioned for us to follow him, and walked through the guardpost. We followed, and I looked at some of the other guards. Two were playing a form of cards at a table, and another watched the road, humming to herself.

We followed the guard through to the second set of doors, which he opened. These led into the lobby of the Grand Equestrian Hotel. It was... unlike anything I had ever seen.

In front of us was a small fountain, surrounded by patterned tile of sand and black, with a bit of greenery around the fountain and a trickle of water flowing through it. To the left, a sign hung over the hallway informed us the market was that way, while to the right was the restaurant. Sun streamed through numerous windows, and behind a rich mahogany desk sat a pegasus mare in a pretty blue dress. She looked up at us, and giggled at our awestruck reactions. I knew my eyes were wide, and I could only imagine my companions had similar looks of sheer wonder and amazement.

“This is...” Peach Tea began.

“Incredible, isn't it?” the mare behind the desk said with a warm smile. “Welcome to the Grand. First time?”

It took me a moment to regain my senses and answer her. “Yes,” I said simply, looking over at the mare. “The uh... the caravans. Where would they be?”

“They'll all be in the market, to your left. Will you be requiring any lodgings?”

“No, no. We're just passing through.”

“As you wish, sir. Have an excellent day,” she said with a bright smile.

I turned to look at the group, smiling myself. “I believe you've all earned some rest. Meet back here in...” I checked the clock on my PipBuck. “Two hours.”

I had barely finished when the others took off to see various other parts of the Grand. I laughed softly, then made my way for the market. I trotted slowly down the hallway. I noted the windows on my left seemed spotless, in comparison to the rest of the city. I stopped for a moment to look outside. The street outside was empty, and I saw on occasion a guard in black barding trot past. I stood there for some time, just staring, and for a moment, everything was normal. A couple trotted past, smiling and laughing to a joke the stallion said. A small, rag-tag band played jazz to the delight of a small crowd under an awning. An older mare kept watch over a trio of young foals playing in the street, while she sipped at a glass of lemonade.

I blinked, and it was gone. The couple had become a guard, who gave me a nod of greeting as he passed me by. The awning was empty, with nothing but a boarded up window underneath. No foals played in the street, and the only glass on the table across the road was a shard from a broken window. I let out a soft sigh, and turned to leave. It was hard not to imagine the world as being normal again. I had references in my mind already, having seen the old tapes in the Stable, read pre-war books, seen pre-war pictures and art. Add on to the Grand's pristine nature, and the fact that Neigh Orleans was mostly intact... and it was as if nothing had ever really happened. I sighed and turned away from the window, trotting along.

I eventually reached the market, and stopped in the doorway to take it all in. What had once been a gorgeous, ornate ballroom had been taken over by a number of makeshift booths. Ponies wandered between them, and merchants of every kind hawked wares. Near to me, a pony with a thick coat and an even thicker accented cried out: “Guns! Glorious guns!” At another booth, a mare was haggling with another over the price of a pre-War dress. Across the room, a stallion with a pair of thick rimmed glasses sat surrounded by a stack of books and magazines. I spotted Kusafiri and Peach Tea at that booth, going through the stallion's wares.

I started wandering through, looking for the caravans. I found them at the far end of the ballroom, their booths different than the others: they were more barren, with most of the gear still loaded into crates. There were a number of booths there, but most were empty, unattended. I found only one with a stallion behind it, known as the Far Trotters Caravan Company.

“Good morning,” I said as I walked up.

“Mornin'!” the stallion tilted back his dirty white hat, the wide brim having covered his eyes a bit. “What can I do for ya?”

I quickly consulted with my PipBuck notes, to make sure I was getting the name right. “I'm looking for a stallion named Tumbleweed,” I said.

The stallion tilted his eye, narrowing his eyes. “What's it to you?”

I blinked at the sudden, thinly veiled hostility. “I'm... looking to talk to him about the Bakersmill trade route. Why, is there something wrong?”

“Oh, yer from Bakersmill?” the caravaner asked. I nodded. “Yeah... there's something wrong.” Now that it seemed like I was here for benign reasons, the caravaner seemed relieved.

“What is it?”

The stallion scratched his chin with the tip of his hoof. “Nopony's seen hide nor hair o' Tumbleweed for about a week now, maybe longer. I don't like the stallion, but personally, I'm a bit worried.”

“Why don't you like him?” I asked.

“He and his daughter, Sugarcane... they do milk runs. Traders like me, an' Crimson Hoof, we take stuff from the northern cities, the farms, and from Wise Apple, all the way to here. Then Tumbleweed and Sugarcane would buy it up here and send it to Bakersmill. Cuttin' into our profits, really,” the caravner said, frowning a little. “We brave the biggest shit of the Wasteland north of here, and they get their caps fo' nothin'.”

I nodded. “Do you think one of the caravans had anything to do with this?”

“Who do ya take me for?” the stallion asked with a frown. “I would never raise a hoof against another caravaner, an' neither would most here.”

I held up a hoof to placate him. “Sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. I just want to find Tumbleweed.”

“Well, if I were ya, I'd go check Temple. Sugarcane's over there now, She probably knows more than I do.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning to leave.

“Could just be that he run off!” the caravaner called out. I looked back at him. “Stallion had a load of gamblin' debt from the card tables at the bar.”

I nodded, then trotted off. Time to find the bar, see if I could find anypony there that could tell me about Tumbleweed.

~~O~~

My search was relatively fruitless. The only pony currently in the bar to know and recognize Tumbleweed was the bartender, and all he could tell me was exactly what the caravaner had said: Tumbleweed had disappeared for the last few days. I was discouraged, but at least there was still a lead in the form of his daughter, Sugarcane, though we would have to go to Temple to find her.

I wandered the hotel for the remainder of my time there, taking in the sights. To say the hotel was amazing was an understatement. From what I'd seen so far, this was the true testimony to pony resilience. After everything that had happened, we still managed to not only hold on, but for one small block of a city, thrive. Beyond that, the hotel was quite beautiful, not to mention fairly interesting. The entire ground floor of the Grand was taken by public spaces of all kinds: restaurants, bars, the market, even just a common area to sit and talk. The upper floors and various rooms were turned into places to stay, and I'd heard tell of a spa on the second floor as well. In the middle of it all was the courtyard, a once incredible oasis in the middle of the city. There was a pool in the middle, emptied and grimy with time, yet a few ponies still milled around the area, relaxing on long chairs and talking amongst each other. I wandered around the courtyard, taking it all in, and eventually settled down next to a radio at a small bar outside.

I sat and listened to the song for a while, just taking a moment to relax.

“The breeze is softly singin' through the willows, as hoof and hoof we stroll along the trail... And love is at it's height, enchanting us tonight, like a Mar'inga~ale Fairytale...”

“What'll it be?” the bartender asked.

I blinked, then looked over at the bartender, having almost forgotten about him. I thought about it, then shrugged. “How much for a beer?”

“Four caps.”

I checked the pocket of my labcoat, and passed over four caps. I had scavenged a few extra from my room at Hope before leaving, and after everything I'd been through today, some alcohol sounded absolutely amazing.

The bartender nodded and retrieved a bottle. He removed the cap, then passed it over to me. I watched him pocket the beer bottle's cap, and couldn't help but admire the operation: every bottle of beer he sold  he was guaranteed to make at least one cap in profit.

I thanked the bartender and sipped my beer, listening again to the radio. The song had ended, to be replaced with the voice of the DJ I'd heard the night before.

“Why hello there, everypony, it's your friendly neighbourhood DJ! That was Fat Cat with “Martingale Fairytale”, and this is DJ Shorty! Just got a weird little report from that little bastion of civilization in South Neigh Orleans, Canning. According to Tapper, sentries at Canning spotted what appeared to be a large pony-shaped robot trotting around. The robot seemed to observe the town for a time, but after a warning shot was fired, it took off.” There was a beat of silence. “No, I'm not making this shit up, ponyfolk. I don't get paid nearly enough for that. The robot was armed with a pair of miniguns, so unless you want to look like a naked Changeling, I recommend keeping a fair distance.”

“A robot?” I said dubiously.

The bartender laughed, then shrugged. “I learned to not doubt anything Shorty says, no matter how ridiculous,” he said simply. “Like, just two weeks ago, he warned about a wave of feral ghouls coming in from the bayou, and sure enough, it was like one of them books come real, all the zombies walking in the streets. Fuckin' nasty. I still remember the smell.” He shuddered at the thought, then went back to cleaning one of the glasses.

I shrugged and took a drink of beer, not sure what to say, really. It seemed a little strange, but then again, I didn't know the area. This could be absolutely normal, and with all I'd seen... I didn't doubt it.

“-aypainting dicks on the back of the studio: we see you doing it, and it's not funny. Next time I'll send Rock to kick your ass. Anyways, thanks for listening, to the best... and, well, ONLY radio station in Neigh Orleans, R-N-O!”

I blinked at the radio, then finished off my beer. Before I had much time to enjoy the next song, Lode Stone walked over.

“Gettin' drunk already, Doc?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No, just killing time,” I said, idly tapping the beer bottle. “Figured a beer wouldn't hurt,” I added.

“Yeah, could use a drink, too,” Lode said, sitting down and paying for his own drink. I nodded and clinked my beer against his when he offered, and we both took a swig. “This place is awesome. The whole hotel. It's just...” He trailed off, grinning and watching a pair of mares trotting past. One winked his way, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

“Focus, lovercolt.”

“Come on, Doc. Good looking mares, booze, food, and the rooms look alright. Plus, pretty safe,” he pointed out. “This is the damn life, right here. Aw yeah.” He took another swig of beer, leaning over to check out the back of the two mares for a moment.

“Perhaps. We do have a job, though. Think about mares on your own time... once we help Bakersmill, you can move here,” I offered, finishing off my beer.

“Fine,” Lode said with a shrug. “Oh! How'd that go, anyways? Find the stallion?”

I shook my head. “No, he's disappeared, but I do have a lead. As soon as Peach Tea and Kusafiri get back here, we'll head out for Temple,” I explained. I looked around the courtyard, then back at Lode Stone. “Where did those two go, anyways?” I asked.

“I saw them in the market, but no idea where they went,” he admitted.

“Well, they deserve the rest. Been a long few days,” I said with a shrug.

Lode Stone and I relaxed outside for a little longer, exchanging idle chatter and listening to the radio the bartender had set up. As the two-hour mark was drawing near, we both got up and made for the lobby of the hotel again. There we found Kusafiri and Peach Tea sitting and waiting for us, the zebra stallion reading a magazine on lockpicking, though how he proposed doing so without magic was beyond me.

“Hey!” Peach said happily.

“Hello, Peach, Kusafiri,” I said as I approached, smiling. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Kusafiri said.

I nodded. “What did you two get at the market?” I asked.

“A few books, some magazines. Stuff for the kids to read back at Hope,” he replied.

“Yeah! Even got something for you, Doc!” Peach Tea said, passing over a large volume. I looked at the the cover, smiling warmly. It was an issue of the Canterlot Journal of Internal Medicine. I smiled and stuck it in my pack.

“Thank you, Peach,” I said sincerely. Even if there wasn't anything of use to me in there, I could use it to help Elekezi improve her medical skills. Besides, it was the thought that counted, and I liked that.

“No problem! So, what did you find out?”

“The trader, Tumbleweed, disappeared. One of the merchants here thinks his daughter might have more information,” I explained.

“Where's she?” Kusafiri asked.

“The Temple, which is where we're going next.”

We headed for the doors, and trotted toward the guardpost. I knocked on the door, and the same guard as before opened the door. “Heading out?” he asked.

“Yeah, we have to get going,” I said. The guard nodded and retrieved our case of weapons. He opened it up and passed around the weapons we'd stored with him. I loaded my MEP and placed it back in my saddlebag. “What's the fastest way to the Temple?” I asked.

The guard thought it over for a moment, then motioned for us to follow. We all trotted outside, and he pointed down the road. “Just follow this road in. Take about an hour, but you'll get there,” he said, looking back at us and smiling. “Good luck.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said with a smile.

This time, the rather loud guard from the balcony was the one to call out. “Ain't a thing! And come on back any time! Y'all're always welcome at the Grand!”

As we left the hotel behind us, Peach Tea smiled happily and spoke. “I liked it there. Almost want to move in...”

“Well, let's get this whole affair sorted out, then we can decide if we're all going to stay at Hope or not,” I said. I wasn't going to force the entire group of survivors to stay in the mansion, and I knew that some would probably want to visit the city. Hope was rather isolated, and I knew some would likely want to move to Bakersmill or Neigh Orleans were there were new ponies to see.

We trotted in silence for the next few minutes, and I looked around as we went, taking in the sights. The Fancy Quarter must have been rather lively place, I decided. A good number of the buildings we passed as we walked along were bars or clubs of various types, and a few still had signs of their past parties frozen there, in the form of strewn bottles on the occasional odd mask. In front of one was a small pile of beads on a string, broken and scattered across the sidewalk.

We also began seeing pony skeletons again, after we made it a few minutes away from the Grand. The first one was a skeleton half-hanging over a railing on a balcony above, the empty eye sockets watching us as we went past, a string of beads hanging from its bony neck. Peach Tea shuddered a little, but for my part, I barely reacted. That actually scared me a little... had I already become used to death, after killing that stallion earlier today? I looked over at the others, and saw that Kusafiri was looking a little sick at the sight, while Lode Stone was pointedly ignoring it, and I began to feel abnormal about this. I managed to hide it as best I could however, and kept going.

Shortly after passing that one, we found another dead pony, this one slumped against a nearby building. The wall was riddled with holes, and there was a pistol lying on the ground. Peach Tea looked over at it, and floated it gingerly away from the dead pony. She checked the magazine. “Ten shots,” she said, putting it in her saddlebag. “Might as well... y'know. Just in case.”

I nodded. I didn't like the thought of looting from the dead, but I was starting to understand that this was not like the Stable, and the old rules didn't apply anymore.

~~O~~

Halfway to the Temple, we decided to stop to rest and eat some lunch. I pointed out a bar nearby that looked reasonably intact, and as best I could tell, was also empty. I glanced at the sign above the door. It was called “Chimes' Bar.” I had a hoof on the door when Peach Tea stopped me.

“I'll go first,” Peach Tea said, readying her shotgun. I nodded, remembering the Bakersmill incident. If there was somepony inside, I didn't want to walk in on them again like I had with Gumbo, because I doubted they would be very pleasant this time around. I took up position on the other side of the door, my own pistol floating at the ready. She gave me a nod, and I threw the door open. She went first and I followed quickly behind.

The bar may have been empty of anypony living, but the dead inside were numerous. The main bar room was set up with most of the tables on their sides, forming a barricade around the bar. A stallion was slumped  dead against the bar, while along the floor near the door were more than a dozen bodies, and a few piles of ash. Shell casings littered the floor, while all around were bullet holes, and near the door a strange set of impact holes, a little larger than the average bullet hole, and each were made of two parallel blasts, like a burned figure-eight. The bodies by the door seemed at first glance to have been barely touched, but on closer inspection I saw the charred holes of a magical energy pistol bored into their bodies.

“What the fuck happened here?” Lode Stone asked when he walked in, looking around in shock at the carnage.

“I'm not entirely sure,” I admitted, looking down a small alcove to the right. It had doors leading to the bathroom. Both doors were opened, and a single body was fallen in the doorway of one of them.

“Back room's clear!” Peach Tea said as she trotted back out. “Just somepony's camp.”

I nodded and took a look at the pony on the bar, where he lay in a pool of his own, dried blood. He was wearing strange barding, made of a black synthetic material. A golden fleur-de-lys graced the front, and on the back was a golden number 51. For a moment, I was reminded of Stable barding, but it definitely wasn't, though I wasn't entirely sure what it was supposed to be either. I examined the stallion, finding multiple holes on either side of the barding. I shifted the garment and noticed a vest of dark green armour underneath, a few bullets having managed to punch through weak points in the armour. It hadn't happened all that long ago, probably while we had just entered the Grand.

“What's he wearing?” Peach Tea asked, looking over at me.

“No idea. Some kind of... uniform, maybe. Could be gang colours,” I offered, looking around some more. On the floor around the stallion were a number of gem packs for a magical energy pistol, most spent but a few still glowing faintly with energy. I pocketed those, then looked up. “What about the others?”

“They look like those ponies from earlier, those bad ones,” Kusafiri said, shrugging. “Most aren't wearing real armour, just lots of spikes and stuff. One has this weird black barding on. There's a bloody horseshoe painted on it.”

“Pretty junky weapons, too. Nails in bats and stuff. Couple guns, might see if somepony at Hope can fix these,” Lode Stone added.

“I could try,” Peach offered.

“ 'kay. Hey Doc, what's the ash from?”

I looked over at Lode Stone to see him nudging a pile of ash with his hoof. I winced a little, because I knew he wasn't going to like the answer. “Ponies. This stallion was using an MEW... magical energy weapon. They have a tendency to... vaporize,” I said as gently as I could.

“Oh, fuck!” Lode Stone yelped, jumping back and shaking off his hoof. “That ain't right!” He ran outside, and I heard a retching sound.

I looked around, curious as to where the stallion's weapon had ended up. I spotted a handle sticking out from under a pile of bottles nearby. I floated the weapon toward me, taking a look at it. It had started life as an MEP, much the same as my own. The top had been cut open, and what appeared to be the working components of a second MEP rigged on top of the original ones. A second barrel had been added above the original, and I noticed extra capacitors inside, which would explain the larger than average holes. Finally, the stallion had bolted on a crude heatshield on top to try and keep debris out, and had painted the image of an eight-ball onto the left side of it. I checked the charge on the gem pack, then looked down the top of the pistol. The sound of a falling bottle made me jump, and I unintentionally yanked the trigger as I did.

A pair of bright red beams shot out at the same time, digging a deep gouge through the bar and eventually striking the floor beyond. Where it impacted, it left another figure-eight burn mark.

“Nice shot, Doc,” Peach Tea said sarcastically.

I looked it over and shrugged, placing it in my saddlebags. I may have already owned a pistol, but with two beams firing at once I had a feeling this newer one had a lot more firepower behind it and would be a lot more effective in a fight.

“What was in the back?” I asked, looking at Peach Tea.

“A bed, some food, a journal. I looked at it, but he can barely write,” she said with a shrug.

I nodded. “Let's head to the back then... might as well use the food.”

We all went to the back and sat down. Lunch was provided courtesy of the dead stallion's supplies, and while I ate I read his journal. Though hard to read, thanks to a combination of poor spelling, grammar, and poorly written letters, I managed to eventually decipher it all. The stallion had been a scavenger in the area, and had found his pistols near the harbour in South Neigh Orleans, deciding to combine them because, as he wrote, '2 iz beddur den 1'. He then pissed off what he called the 'Bath gang', and ended up making his final stand here.

I set the journal down and kept eating.

“Anything interesting?” Kusafiri asked.

“Not particularly.”

We were more than happy to leave Chimes' a few minutes later, and put the grisly scene behind us.

~~O~~

Celestial Square was unlike anything I had ever seen before. We arrived at the area half an hour after leaving Chimes' Bar, and had gotten a glimpse every now and again of the tall spire of the Temple rising above the buildings, but that did nothing to prepare us for what we saw in the Square.

Simply put, it was beautiful. Somepony tended to the Square, mowing the grass and clipping the various hedges and bushes that grew around the polished bronze statue in the middle of the Square, though to what end or for how long I couldn't guess. While all the flora still had the deadened appearance of everything else, somehow Celestial Square still retained most of its beauty.

“Whoa, look at the statue!” Kusafiri said, trotting toward it. The rest of us followed behind, and I looked up at the statue. It was of a mare in combat armour, her mane and tail flowing out behind her. She was standing with her left forehoof resting on a tree stump, looking off into the distance. Below here were smaller carvings of soldiers, looking up at her.

I leaned forward a little to read the plaque underneath the statue. “In Loving Memory of a Hometown Hero, Private First Class Meadow Runner, 8th Equestrian Outriders, Fort Harmony, Peachtree,” I read aloud. “Awarded the Royal Medal of Honour for her actions at the Battle of Tomare. Despite severe injury, she led a relief force through the dense forest and allowed the Royal Equestrian Army to claim victory against the invading Zebra forces.” I took a moment to look up at the statue again. Though time had weathered a lot of the details, I could see that whoever had originally cast the statue had gone to great lengths to ensure a realistic depiction of the mare, down to a scar across her cheek. I looked back down at the plaque and finished reading the last sentence. “She led where others followed.”

I looked over at the others. Lode Stone was examining some of the smaller soldiers. Peach Tea and Kusafiri continued to look at the mare herself. We stayed in silence for a moment, as if holding our own little vigil for this long dead mare.

After a few minutes I turned and looked up at the Temple of Celestial Sisters. Like the Square, it too remained beautiful despite all that had happened. The central portion rose to four storeys, with a spire half that size stretching out into the sky. On either side of the central portion were two smaller sections,  only three storeys with shorter spires. The marble of the building gleamed in the bright sunlight, and while a few sections had scorch marks, the Temple itself was well kept. My eyes ran up the front, stopping for a moment on the clock, which had been frozen at 11:28, before continuing up to the top of the middle spire, where a tall metal tower extended even higher into the sky. I noticed a blinking light at the top, and a large bundle of cables that strung down to another building somewhere behind the Temple.

As we approached, I noticed there were no guards out front, but I saw movement in the windows beneath the two spires on the sides. We were being watched. Before we even reached the massive oak double-door at the front, it slowly swung open. A strange looking equine trotted out to greet us. He was a unicorn, and a zony, his coat a light orange and his stripes a deep red, though most of it was covered in black barding with a white square on the collar. He was alone, and he trotted toward us with the brightest smile I had seen since emerging from the Stable.

“Hello, and welcome to the Temple of the Celestial Sisters. I am Father Sunray, Prophet of Celestia,” he greeted.

I smiled, trying to not laugh. I couldn't help myself, it just sounded so funny to me, to take one's beliefs that far. “A pleasure to meet you, Sunray. My name is Doctor String Bean, and these are my companions Lode Stone, Kusafiri, and Peach Tea.”

The zony nodded and motioned toward the door. “Please, come inside. It's quite hot out here,” he said, opening the doors. I nodded, and we all followed him inside. I glanced back at the others, who looked just as amused and a little confused as I was.

The interior was just as beautiful as the outside. I looked around in awe as we trotted inside. The vaulted ceiling was covered in paintings, depicting stylized versions of the Sisters through various events, culminating in a beautiful stained glass window at the far end of the hall. The window showed a stylized Luna and Celestia circling a sun and moon on a field of stars. I was so awestruck I ended up running into and stumbling over a bench, something Peach Tea and Lode Stone found absolutely hysterical. I brushed myself off, then looked around a little more, making sure to not walk and gawk.

The bottom floor had been split in half, with the left side containing a number of benches, tables, and a kitchen. On the right side were a few books, a radio, and a trading post. I heard movement from the balconies on either side, but couldn't see what was up there.

“This place is amazing, Sunray,” I said, looking over at the zony unicorn. He smiled back and nodded.

“Thank you. We take in equines from all over, if they require rest and a safe place. There is common bedding on either of the balconies, and we serve meals three times a day, at dawn, dusk, and mid-day. If you require anything, just speak with me,” he said.

I shook my head. “Thank you, but for the moment we're just passing through. We're looking for a mare, a trader by the name of Sugarcane?”

“Ah, yes. She's just over here, come, follow me.”

I followed the zony to the trading post, while the others broke up a bit to explore the rest of the Temple. I saw Kusafiri and Peach Tea head out toward the stained glass window, while Lode Stone went to look at some of the books.

The trading post was a series of wooden shelves, filled with various items that weren't considered essential, but that those here would want. Razors, scissors, scrap metal, other things like that. A unicorn mare with a light blue body and a dark purple mane and tail sat behind the counter, counting caps out. She was wearing a brown coat, covered in many pockets, and I spotted a pair of heavy looking pistols holstered on her sides.

“Sugarcane?” Sunray said as we approached. “This is Doctor String Bean.”

“ 'lo,” the mare said without looking up.

I blinked and looked over at Sunray, who was already leaving toward Kusafiri and Peach Tea, doubtlessly to try and preach the glory of Celestia and Luna. I looked back at Sugarcane.

“If you're looking to trade, gimme like, five minutes,” the mare said.

I shook my head. “No, actually. I'm here to ask about Tumbleweed,” I said as gently as I could.

She stopped counting her caps for a moment, then looked up at me. She narrowed her eyes and stared at me for quite a while. I shifted a little uncomfortably, waiting for her to speak.

“What about my Dad?” she asked.

“I was sent by Praline Sweet at Bakersmill. She was worried about your father, he hasn't shown up in the last few days, and at the Grand, they told me he'd been missing,” I explained.

She leaned against the counter and nodded. “Yeah. He ain't missing though. I know where he is... least I think I do,” she admitted.

“What do you mean, you know where he is?”

“Dad was packing up for a trip to Bakersmill, when he'd told me he'd heard that a plantation nearby had been rebuilt, and there were ponies living there. Problem is, I don't think they were the nice kind of ponies,” Sugarcane explained, fetching a map from a toolbox nearby. She unrolled it and pointed to a spot a ways west of Hope. I nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“So he went out there, and that's when he disappeared. Problem is, Dad and I... our caravan wasn't really profitable. We made enough to survive and pay rent at the Grand, but I'm not swimming in surplus caps or anything. I tried to find mercs to help, but Payback's expensive, and nopony else wanted to help look for him, especially if they are raiders or slavers,” she continued, looking up at me.

I could see where this was going. “So you want our help?” I asked.

She nodded. “If you're offering it, yeah. I'll take anything... backup, caps to pay for mercs,” she said, rolling the map back up and putting it away. “Just need the help, Doctor. But I won't lie... might get real messy out there.”

“Don't worry,” I said after a moment's consideration. I was ready, if not entirely willing, to kill again if it was to save her father. “We'll help. We already have some experience with... messy.”

Sugarcane chuckled sadly. “Yeah, welcome to the Wasteland. So, just the four of you?”

“No, we'll have to stop back at a mansion near the train station. I have others there. We can organize and plan there,” I said, looking over at the others. I didn't want to force any of them to come along, but I knew I would need the help of somepony.

“Hey, Doc?” Sugarcane asked. I looked over at her. “Why do you want to help, anyways?” she asked. “I mean, not saying I ain't grateful and all that, but most folks only work for caps, not out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“Like I said, Bakersmill asked us,” I explained. “We... my people, we're survivors from a Stable. We need the trade route that Bakersmill can offer, but they need their trading route back. And he is your father, after all. I can't, in good conscience, leave him if you know he's in trouble,” I added.

Sugarcane smiled and nodded. “Alright! Let me just finish counting my caps, and then we can head out!” she said. “Be ready to go in like, five minutes.”

I nodded, then went to find the others. They were all sitting around a table, waiting for me to return.

“So, Doc, what's going on?” Kusafiri asked.

I sat down before answering. “We're going back to Hope with Sugarcane. We'll then be heading out to a nearby plantation, where she thinks her father is being held. Now, the problem is, it can be a big fight. Start thinking about it now... when we get back to Hope, I want your decisions as to whether you're coming, or sitting it out.” I looked over at Peach Tea. “I don't want to force you, but you're good with the shotgun. I want Ginger Beer to come as well, because you two are our best fighters, I think. Lode?”

“I'll think about it.”

“Alright. Kusafiri?”

“Always got your back, Doc,” the zebra said.

I nodded. “Alright. We'll be going shortly. It's a long walk back home to Hope, so rest up.”