When she needs help, she finds it hard to accept it. So while friendship is about giving of ourselves to friends, it's also about accepting what our friends have to offer.

Chapter 6: Rosemary

John and I were on our hooves instantly, rifles at the ready.

“And exactly who the hell are you?” growled John.

I hit S.A.T.S. to examine him. I saw he wore a ragged blue uniform that had the letters NCECF on it. NCE obviously stood for New Crystal Empire, and I figured CF probably stood for correctional facility. He wore strong barding I was associating with military, but he was clearly not a true member of the NCE. He had several long packs of dynamite strewn around him, which I figured he must’ve gotten from his prison.

That would fit if the NCECF used their prisons for demolition clearing, though admittedly that was a very stupid thing to do… not that I knew the NCE wasn’t stupid.

“He’s a prisoner,” I said. “Ex-prisoner I suppose. He broke out of the NCE’s prison no longer than a week ago.”

That part was partly a guess, but he hadn’t had long to look for barding or proper clothes so he hadn’t been on the outside long.

“Who the hell are you?” said the prisoner pony, turning to me.

“Sherclop Pones, and the most brilliant pony you’re ever likely to meet. Now, I suggest you get the hell out of here before my associate and I repaint this bar’s door with your blood!”

“Look lady!” he said, calling over his shoulder to Butter Cake as he walked out. “Rosemary comes to us by the end of the night or we raid your useless town for all it’s worth!”

We kicked the door shut behind the new pony as he went out.

“Butter Cake,” I said turning. “Do you know who Rosemary is?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “She’s a pony who came into town maybe a few days ago, and said she needed some place to crash. Sure, she seemed worried, but I never thought anyone would come looking for her.”

“Where is she now?” asked John.

“In that old sofa shop up the hill.”

“Let’s go!” I said, and John nodded, flying alongside me as I galloped towards the shop she’d indicated. We reached it in less than a minute and I pushed the door open hurriedly. I was greeted by the barrel of a revolver, which spoke swiftly and softly.

“Not another step, or I’ll shoot you.

“If you do,” I growled. “You’d better not miss.”

The mare holding the gun seemed abashed and put it away, leaning back against one of the sofas in the small shop.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so on edge recently. Why are you here?”

I examined this mare. She was a light purple earth pony with blue eyes, which bore the lines one got from lack of sleep. She had her revolver pistol and bore the look of a courier pony. It was hard to tell, considering I didn’t yet know how all the gangs worked, but I bet she was a messenger or delivery pony for one of the smaller gangs.

“I’m Sherclop Pones,” I said. “And this is John Trotson. We heard you’re having some trouble with someone who is looking for you.”

“Well… yeah, but I’m going to just give myself up. I’m not worth this whole town getting blown to hell.”

“We’re here to help you,” said John, smiling kindly.

“R-really? I mean, with the three of us… we’ll still need more. If you can get the rest of the town to help we can maybe get somewhere.”

We nodded and I turned to John.

“Well who can I ask?” I asked.

“What’s this ‘I’ thing? I’m with you too.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“Well I am. No way I’d miss this party. Besides, if we don’t fight, those bastards will just be back with more firepower and grind us dry. We should definitely talk to Butter Cake, seeing as most of the ponies in town love her. I suppose the Doc and Cherry Pie from the general store would be a good fit. I hear he just got a new shipment of armor, so maybe we can get him to give it up. There’s also old man Brawny Steed, and he’s sitting on a huge pile of dynamite if you can get him away from it.”

“How would I do that?”

“Convince him you know all about it.”

That was a small problem. I knew very little about dynamite. However… I didn’t really need to know much… I just needed Brawny Steed to think I did, and I just so happened to have a small pile of Mint-als in my saddlebags. I took two of them and went up the three-legged horse, where my pipbuck was helpfully displaying Brawny Steed’s hangout.

I noticed behind me that John shook his head disapprovingly at my use of the drug, but said nothing. He went inside as I reached the front porch, presumably to talk to Butter Cake.

Sure enough, Brawny was sitting out front, with his feet cheerfully plopped up in the seat next to him, and his hat covering his face. I sat in the only other seat and spoke to him, feeling very smooth.

“Howdy,” I said.

“ello there,” he said, sitting up. “What can I do fer ya?”

“I hear,” I said, leaning in. “You happen to be sitting upon a nice stack of some dynamite. Now, normally knowing I have nothing but the greatest respect for you and you wishes I have ask if I can’t use some of it to fight off these annoying gangsters that’ll be rolling in.”

Brawny eyed me wearily.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “You don’t strike me as knowing one end from the other. You’ll blow yourself and the others to hell.”

“I do so know dynamite,” I lied. “Lemme see a stick.”

Pete handed me one and my brain calculated what there was to see about it at super-speed.

“Pretty standard,” I said, taking a guess. “Looks like a three second fuse, standard internal workings. I’m guessing these have a blast radius of about two and half feet?”

Brawny’s eyebrows raised and I could tell he truly knew as little about the little sticks as I did, but he wasn’t willing to admit it.

“Well…” he said slowly. “I suppose you got that about right… I guess I could spare a few sticks… so long as you don’t go blowing any pony else up or nothing.”

“I’ll be careful,” I said, honestly for the first time in our conversation.

I went inside to see how John was doing, and it was easy to see he could’ve gotten Butter Cake to raise an army for us if he’d asked. A little while later we head off together to the small doctor’s office Trottingham offered.

When we entered I saw a pony wearing a long labcoat with a med box slung around his neck. His dark orange coat and purple mane were in stark contrast with each other, and he bore a disturbing smile the moment his door opened. John smiled jovially as we approached the pony.

“Hello there John,” said the doctor.

“Hello!” said John, not deterred at all. “We were hoping you’d be able to help.”

“There’s going to be a group of convicts shooting the place up tonight,” I said. “We were hoping you’d be able to give us some medical supplies to help in case there’s any injuries.”

“Sure thing,” said the doctor, putting a few health potions into my saddlebags. “I don’t have much, but what I have you can use.”

I was fully pleased, and ready to leave when John cleared his throat.

“Come on now doc,” he said. “These guys are going to be using dynamite and explosives. We’ll need all you got.”

The doctor looked as though he was about to refuse, then went into a back room. He came back a few minutes later, laying two bags down at John’s feet.

“I wouldn’t give these to any other pony… but as it’s you…”

I looked down at the two bags John was carefully putting into his own saddlebags and my pipbuck helpfully labeled them as doctor’s bags, not that I knew what they did. John winked at me as we went outside, moving towards the general goods store. As I opened the door carefully, I saw a large interior where several guns and bullets were displayed. I felt very out of my element.

John, on the other hand was very, very in place. He walked up, cool as you please, to the owner of the store. Now that I could clearly see the pony, I examined him. He had a light pink mane and a dusty brown coat. His eyes were golden-brown and had a greedy shine in them. I had seen that same shine plenty of times in Stable 221 and felt this wasn’t going to go well.

“Hey there Cherry!” called John, waving.

“Cut the friendly carp, pegasus!” said Cherry Pie, frowning heavily. “You here to do business or not?”

“Consider that we are here for a chance to invest,” I said. “There’s a bunch of gangster ponies coming to blow this place to the ground tonight.”

“I had heard,” said the sales pony.

“Well if everypony gets killed in this battle,” said John. “You won’t be able to do any business. We were hoping you could lend everyone a set of that new leather armor you just got in.”

“Oh I see,” said Cherry Pie, frowning. “And who is paying me for this donation?”

“The ponies who live,” I said. “Through future business. They can’t very well trade with you if they’re dead.”

Cherry Pie seemed to consider this for a long moment, finally slapping a hoof down on the floor.

“No,” he said. “I can’t take that hit, and I bet them gangsters would be just as willing to trade as the Trottingham ponies. Besides, there’ll be a fair few left and you’ll be dead. So, that’s a good plus.”

We had no choice but to walk away, defeated.

“A right…” I searched for the proper insulting term… failing to come up with anything colorful enough. “Fuckhead… no I mean… He’s no better than Celestia’s… He’s a jerk.”

John turned to me.

“Yeah… Jerk sums Cherry Pie up pretty well, but he’s in business for himself, and we can’t change his mind on it.”

We returned to the small shop where Rosemary was staying and we found her laying concealed in a corner. John sat next to her, explaining that we’d gotten no small amount of help from the townspeople. I saw a safe laying on the ground that Rosemary hadn’t been able to open and went to work on it with my tools.

The safe was a simple lock, but it still took a couple tries to get it right. Eventually, it popped open, revealing the secrets inside. I found several bullets for my revolver and rifle. There was also a small amount of caps and two vials of something labeled as dash. I wasn’t sure what dash was, and pulled it up on my pipbuck, which apparently could tell me everything about anything.

Dash – A powerful hallucinogenic stimulant. It gives the user a slowed perception of time, allowing the user to think and act faster than they normally can, which makes it a useful combat drug.

That sounded like something right up my alley. My pipbuck flashed several warnings about the drug being addictive, but I wasn’t worried. After all, I’d already been through a completely dry withdrawal of Mint-als, so how bad could this Dash be?

I put them in my saddlebags and then noticed the mattress laying on the floor of the hut and a carton of cigarettes.

“Do you mind?” I asked, indicating both of these.

“Not at all,” said Rosemary,

I lay on the mattress for a short time, smoking and thinking calmly about the upcoming battle. Eventually, it occurred to me that I hadn’t slept for two days, and how very tired I was… I debated staying awake until the battle was over, but that wasn’t a good idea. I would be shaky and unable to aim.

Instead I turned to John.

“Wake me in a few hours, will you?”

He nodded and I let myself drift into the world of dreams for the first time since entering the wasteland.

Note: Level Up!

Perk – Swift learner – Between your natural intellect and several Mint-als, you’ve mastered the art of a true student. You gain experience 10% faster.