//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - Minefield // Story: Fallout: Equestria - Stargazer // by MrShinyObject //------------------------------// Chapter 3 - Minefield “Apparently they're too rare and too scary to try to talk to or study.” --- --- --- /// /// ///  |  |  |  |  |  |  \\\ \\\ \\\ --- --- --- “That can’t be it. Blowing up the country isn’t the same as killing off a people.” “You are wise, young buck. There is more to being a member of the Zebra nation than the land you live on and the stripes on your coat. The ponies believed that all power rested in the gift of friendship, but we knew better. The bonds of our people are beyond that. We are not a nation of friends, we are a nation of families. “But everyone has a family, it’s not that special.” “It is not rare, but it is important nonetheless. The shattering of familial ties are what plunged this world into war. The slaughtering of our people in that pony valley was not simply an attack on those zebras, it was an attack on their families. When I heard that one of us had destroyed that wretched place, I knew in my heart that it was a son or daughter of those massacred. There is no greater driving force than that between a parent and child.” --- --- --- \\\ \\\ \\\  |  |  |  |  |  |  /// /// /// --- --- --- Nyota awoke from a dreamless sleep to find herself still lying on the mattress she had bloodied the night before. She grimaced at the sight of sunbeams shining through the gaps in the wall and rubbed at her eyes, waiting for them to adjust. Once they did, she turned her attention to the room, able to get a good look now that it was better lit than the night before. At some point while she was sleeping, someone had set the shelf back upright next to the door, and all the previously locked boxes had been opened, their padlocks laying undone beside them. To Nyota’s left sat the empty vial, formerly a health potion, that had been poured on her face (and partially drunk) the night before. Three full ones had been placed next to it. For a moment she wondered who had done all this, but as she got back on all fours, she noticed her new right-foreleg accessory and recalled her alliance from the night before. She wondered whether her new ally was in the roots or up and walking. “April?” Nyota whispered to the flower, “You there?” “WHAT?” came a shout from just outside the door. “I’m out here!” A few moments later the door slammed open and the coiled mass of blue-green vines trotted through with two canteens hung around its neck, one large and circular, the other small and boxy. It greeted the groggy zebra, “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, sleepyhead! Boy, you look like you could use a few cups of coffee.” The plant swung the canteens off its neck and towards Nyota. “Here, I grabbed these off some of the dead guys. Small one for you, big one for me, filled ‘em both up at a pump near the center. Don’t know how you’ve survived this long without one, honestly.” Nyota chose to not bring up that “this long” was approximately 24 hours. Instead, she yawned and asked about the potions beside her. “Are those for me?” “Yup,” it answered, “Found them in those locked boxes over there with some bullet casings, glass jars, and bottlecaps of all things. Figured you could use those if things get hairy again.” The plant beamed a toothless grin at the zebra mare. “Wouldn’t want my ride to drop dead, now would I?” Nyota rolled her eyes and stuffed the potions into her bag with the truth serum, finally starting to wake up. “Now now, I thought we had agreed on the term ‘friend.’” Although she wasn’t sure that was the right word either. “And speaking of being friendly,” she added,  “Why aren’t you just keeping them for yourself?” “I don’t really have pockets, on account of not having clothes,” it answered sarcastically. “But really, health potions aren’t that much better than a good drink of water for a Living Joke.” The mention of Living Joke piqued Nyota’s curiosity once again. She walked up to April and studied the creature’s face, then took a look down at the flower on her arm, then looked back up again. “So... what exactly is a Living Joke?” the mare inquired. April facehoofed. “Oh fiddlesticks, that’s right! Yesterday I told you I’d tell you tomorrow! And today is tomorrow, so I should tell you today.” The plant set its hoof back down and cleared its throat. It pushed Nyota back to make room, and she pretended not to be disgusted by the wriggling vines it had pressed against her chest. “Allow me to sing you the song of my people! “There once was a great necromancer, and through our fields, he was a prancer. He got hit with some joke, so incantations he spoke, for he thought soul jars were the answer “But he must have never heard the rumor that poison jokes have a sense of humor, and though it’s not a soul, it still fills the hole, so like us, he became a bloomer.” For a minute Nyota just stared speechless at the creature in front of her, strange in both form and personality. With every action it took, it seemed less and less like the killing machine that it wanted its species to be seen as. Then again, Nyota would be dead now if something hadn’t killed the Blue Demons. And Nyota wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of having an ally who was entertaining. “First of all, that wasn’t really a song, just two limericks,” she commented, “And second, I didn’t really understand a word of that.” The plant let out an annoyed grunt. “Well, you can sing limericks, too, you know. All poetry can be sung!” It snapped back. Its vines started wriggling even more than usual as it was angered, a few coming loose from the body, but they soon settled back into place. It sighed, then continued, “But I suppose if you want to hear it the boring way, I’ll tell you.” “About a hundred years ago there was a zebra who specialized in dark magic. One day he ended up walking right into a poison joke patch, but didn’t realize it until it was too late, and he had until morning to come up with something. Now, he knew nothing about potions, so he figured he’d do the necromancer catch-all: soul jars! Turn them into little vessels to hold a soul, then cut out a little of his own and throw it in. He thought that if he took a chunk of his soul and stuck them to the plants, he could control them, or at a minimum stop them from doing anything bad to him. “But the thing is, we already have souls. Kind of. We have a sense of humor. We have what we think is funny. We have personality. So when he prepared us to take in a piece of a zebra soul, instead we just filled the jar with ourselves. Since we were meant to contain part of a zebra, we took on the shape and voice of a zebra. “So now, instead of an army of deadly zebra-plant hybrids at his control, he had an army of deadly plant-zebra hybrids about to royally screw him over. And we did. Ol’ grandpa PJ said, ‘Hey, this guy made plants look like zebras, it’d be funny if we made him look like a plant.’ So they turned him into some other plant and rooted him in the heart of Enigma forest just South of here.” Nyota considered the story. She wasn’t really familiar with necromancy, only megaspells and potions. She recalled some legends of evil shamans who would cast spells on the heroes of the story. It always seemed so ridiculous, like no one could really want to do such cruel and destructive things. Then again, that was the world she was living in now. And the thing in front of her was proof that it was being done. The story didn’t answer all of her questions though. “So what about that thing you do with the vines?” she asked, “Where you somehow put your entire body onto the roots on my leg.” “That’s just from radiation,” it answered, “Any poison joke can do that, it’s just that for them it’s just like a bunch of really long tentacles, whereas we make a body with ours.” “That was another thing that confused me,” she added, “how exactly can you have a body completely unconnected to your roots and flower? Don’t you kind of need to stay connected to them?” The plant threw a foreleg up and shrugged. “Zebra magic is weird. So long as I stay in pretty much the same area, like 30 or 40 feet, I’ll be able to keep up the body. The water pump in the center of camp was stretching it. The farther I go the less I think clearly, and if I keep going the vines just kind of wither away and my mind jumps back to the flower.” “So if I jump on some chariot and leave you in the dust you’ll just start annoying me from my wrist,” she surmised. “Yup. You can’t get rid of me that easily,” it replied. “And now that we’re done talking about how cool I am, how about we go outside and get some nice, warm, bright sunlight?” Nyota groaned. “Do we have to?” she asked. “Yes, actually,” it answered, then corrected itself,  “Well, I do.” It pointed a hoof at Nyota accusingly. “And that means you have to, too.” Nyota snickered. “You said tu-tu.” The plant giggled. “Hey, I did, didn’t I! Nice catch, zebra.” It swung the door open, then motioned for Nyota to follow. As soon as she stepped out her eyes were floodedwith blue as she looked down at the ground, which was covered with poison joke (or rather, Living Joke) plants. April trotted through the plants thoughtlessly and only turned when it didn’t hear hoofbeats. “Hey, ya coming? Why you waiting at the door?” she asked, then immediately made the realisation. “Oh. That’s right. You probably don’t want to step on those guys.” “If it would result in me getting brutally murdered, no, I wouldn’t,” she snapped back. April sat down and thought. “Hmm... maybe if you just, like, um, or kind of... I don’t know, just not step on anything? Or anyone?” April suggested. “Hey, there’s a lot less on this side. See if you can get over here,” the plant said as it casually walked over the flowers to the barren ground by the corner of the hut in the shade. “Easier said than done ya’ pile of leaves,” Nyota commented as she judged the distance to the plantless corner of the shed, which seemed so much closer when she was hiding behind it last night. She scanned the ground for the tiny spots free of the flowers and roots. Slowly and carefully she moved each hoof to a free spot. Every so often she would see a vine wriggle around, but otherwise the plants stayed motionless. “Almost there, just gotta put one hoof in front of the other!” April informed her. “Not so loud!” Nyota replied, never taking her eyes off the treacherous ground. “You don’t want to wake them. If you can wake them.” Nyota paused, then looked up and asked “They are sleeping, right?” April scratched at its head of vines. “Well, sort of,” it answered. “We just really like the sun, so sometimes we just sit there and soak it in, filter out the rest of the world. Noise wouldn’t really wake us, but bruising a vine or losing a petal would sure piss someone off. So don’t worry, us talking won’t be a problem, but yes, your little dance over here is preventing them all from eviscerating you.” “Oh good,” Nyota said sarcastically. She had gotten past the worst of it, and by now it was really just about walking carefully rather than contorting to fit her hooves in the right places. And with one last step she was in the clear. The bulk of the plants were behind her. On this side of the hut the poison joke plants were few and far between. Looking down the path she took last night, she could see it was entirely clear of the plants. They had all gathered back on the other side of the hut. The side by the gate. The Living Joke had gathered in front of the gate out of the camp. Nyota bowed her head and quietly started letting out swears under her breath upon the realisation that her way out was covered in things that would kill her. “Hey, what are you mumbling about?” April asked. “Are those swears? They sound like swears. You’re swearing.” Nyota whipped her head back up and stared directly into what could be considered April’s eyes. She gave her the look of a mare who was really not in the mood to deal with smart-ass walking plants. But instead of snapping at it she just let out a sigh. She figured she might as well ask, “Why is your family sitting right by the gate out?” Ignoring her apparent frustration, the plant responded, “Well, duh, ‘cause that’s where the sun is! That big ol’ mountain is leaving a big ol’ shadow over the whole camp, except right there at the front. It’s the farthest from the mountain.” Nyota turned to look at the mountain, and after getting immediately but temporarily blinded, she saw that the sun was indeed just peeking out over the mountain, and sure enough the whole camp was in the shade save for the area right by the gate. She also now knew that it was much later than she thought, closer to noon than to dawn. She had lost more time than she thought. Nyota let out another short sigh then turned back to the plant. “Okay, we’ll take another look around the camp for supplies and another way out, then maybe by the time we get back they’ll have moved, or I’ll have come up with something better.” April performed an excited hop as she agreed to the plan, “Okie Dokie Lokie!” * * *                        * * *                        * * * In front of Nyota lied the drying and decaying corpse of a Blue Demon stallion, the blue paint over his face doing nothing to hide his twisted expression, most of it having mixed with blood and dripped off. Nyota had seen some nasty corpses fall out of the pods back in the cave, and she had made a corpse of her own last night, but something about this stallion got to her. She looked at the cuts and bruises across his body, the malnourished limbs of skin and bones, the blood staining his coat, the back leg attached by nothing but a tendon, the old scars that never healed over, the mouth letting out a silent scream. This stallion was a tortured soul, and his body was tortured as well. His death was not quick, and his life hadn’t been any better. As Nyota stood and stared, April, completely ignorant of what she was going through, broke the silence. “So does he have anything good on him?” she asked. The sudden noise jolted Nyota. “Um, I’m working on it. It’s just that he... he...” April stopped poking at another corpse to walk over to Nyota. “What, you never seen a dead body before?” the plant jeered. “No no, I have,” she assured, “It’s just that this one... It’s really getting to me.” She peered into the corpse’s eyes. “I mean, just look at him! He’s got scars all over, his ribs are showing from malnutrition, and that face just-” She was interrupted by April extending a hoof and raising Nyota’s head to make eye contact. “Hey now, Nyota, you’re going to have to get over this. There are people like him suffering all over the Savanna, and there isn’t a thing you or I can really do about it. He’s dead now, so whatever pain’s been dealt his way is over with now.” It turned to look at the stallion’s dying expression as her voice softened. “If I could have done away with it with a smile, I would’ve, but my family’s solution is sometimes the only one that can really offer a permanent remedy.” A moment of silence passed for the poor departed soul as the mare and the monster gave their silent respects. “So did he have any good loot on him?” April inquired. If it were any other single creature in the Savanna, Nyota would have given them a disgusted look and walked away, but April’s mind was an odd place, and this sudden change in topics and mood was something she’d have to get used to. “Um, no, not really,” she answered after readjusting to the situation. “A few more rounds for the 10mm, but his gun’s no good. Seems everyone here just kept firing until their weapons fell apart.” “Pretty much the same for all the bodies I searched while you were being all mopey,” April added. Nyota figured she’s let that one go. “Okay then, so we’re ready to head out” she said. “Has the sun moved?” The two look up and see the sun has just barely gone over the peak of the mountain, however a shadow is still spread across the bulk of the camp. “Looks like that would be a negative, Captain!” April reported. “Great. So the Living Joke are still at the front gate, I haven’t seen a single other exit since I’ve gotten here, and climbing the wall would probably put enough strain on my mostly-crippled legs to make me pass out,” Nyota concluded. “That’s about the gist of it.” “Well, I guess that only leaves us one option,” Nyota announced, “It’s time to meet the folks.” * * *                        * * *                        * * * Nyota and April stood at the edge of the shadow cast by the mountain. In front of them was a field of mutated and cursed poison joke plants basking in the sunlight, and on the other end of that the gate out of the camp. “Let me give them a little wake up call,” April suggested. It took its hoof and placed it right next to the nearest blue flower. A little vine extended out the center of her hoof and gave the flower a tiny little flick. The ground began to rumble for a moment, then vines erupted from the ground, all along the field of plants. They extended high into the air, writhing and flailing around until they collapsed to the ground and started wrapping around themselves. Nyota began to see the bodies take shape, at least 20 separate bodies, each nearly identical to April, but each of them had 5 or 6 flowers placed around their body, and their vines were much looser. The crowd of zebra-plants stood around, some looking at April, some looking at each other, but they all ignored Nyota. “Hey there, guys!” April yelled. For the first time since they met, Nyota felt that her smile was forced. “How ya doin’ Tony, Seymour, Audrey, Lisa, Bruce, Natalie, Dinah, Bob, um... Audrey two-” “Stop calling us by those stupid names!” came a voice from somewhere in the crowd. Like their appearance, their voices were rougher and less refined than April’s. Nyota couldn’t even tell if it was a mare or stallion. “They aren’t names for plants and they aren’t even Zebra names.” “Yeah, well, they also don’t sound like names for SHUT UP!” April retorted ever so intelligently. The Living Joke at the front of the group split apart to let through a group from the back. The group of 5 walking up were not like the rest. Instead of blue-green, the vines that coiled around them were nearly black and white, with only a tinge of green. The way the vines wrapped around them, alternating between black vines and white vines, made them appear striped like zebras. They were also taller than the others, and their bodies were more defined, enough that Nyota could make out their gender without hearing their voice. April begrudgingly greeted them, “Hey uncle Steve, aunt Pam, aunt Rita, uncle Roger...”-there was a pregnant pause- “Dad...” The plant addressed as “Dad” took a few steps forward, out of the crowd and into April’s face. “April,” he said sternly with the authoritative voice like that of the Caesar himself, “Why are you not basking in the sunlight with the rest of us, why do you keep calling us those names, and why is that zebra from last night still alive?” He pointed a monochrome hoof at Nyota without looking at her. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen her there, though she figured that someone would bring her up soon. “We agreed against keeping them as pets,” he added, sending a little chill down Nyota’s spine. “To answer the first two, I’m just kind of an independent spirit that way,” she answered, sounding like a child making excuses, “and about the zebra, well...” a lump formed in her throat, “Remember that idea I had a while ago...?” The plant slapped his face and rolled his nonexistent eyes. “Oh stars and moon, don’t tell me you’ve finally got a hostage!” he groaned. “Actually, no,” April responded matter-of-factly, “She volunteered.” Nyota would have corrected her on the young creature’s use of the word “volunteer” if it weren’t for the striped plant whose vines had just jutted out of its body and started whipping around in a wild frenzy. “Volunteer! Volunteer!” he screamed, throwing his forelegs in the air. He had lost the stern, stoic tone from earlier. “You’re telling me you just sprouted up to her and started talking to her? Having a conversation? Tell her your little idea and have a nice cup of tea? Going against the very nature of who and what you are to talk with some meatsack?” April’s father was going bezerk. Nyota was getting hit with spittle five feet away, and she wasn’t even sure they had spittle. This argument had been a long time coming. “You’re a Living Joke, April, we don’t talk to zebras, we kill them. We don’t take hostages, slaves, pets, and certainly not volunteers. Kill, murder, eviscerate, maybe torture a bit, but that’s it! That’s what works for us, and that’s what works best.” He stopped. His vines pulled back in, and he tried to regain his composure. He sighed, then added, “But that was never what worked for you, was it?” “No,” April replied confidently, “Which is exactly why I need to split from the group.” He turned away from his daughter and just looked into the dirt and sand, trying to find an answer. Silence fell on the camp. One of the other striped Living Joke spoke up, “Speaking of splitting the group, I think I’d like a word with the zebra.” Nyota’s ears perked up at the mention of her species. Without looking up the father responded, “Yeah, sure, just don’t do anything to her yet Roger-” his head jerked up, then he facehoofed- “dang it kid, now you got me doing it!” Roger chuckled as he walked over to Nyota. “I don’t mind the name, really.” He huffed back at him. “That’s not the point.” * * *                        * * *                        * * * Roger and Nyota stood at the side of the hut that she had become so familiar with as of late. Roger leaned against the wall of the camp, Nyota stood nervously by the door. The only thing going through her head right now was April’s mention of a family member named Roger who was fond of making zebras scream. The atmosphere was tense. Roger broke the silence. “So...” he began casually, “April finally found someone who would laugh at her jokes?” Nyota just blinked at first. She was expecting a threat or warning. After a moment though she answered, “Yes, she did.” Though that would have been a sufficient answer, she figured she might as well give the full truth. “Though I was delirious from blood loss at the moment and about to die.” The plant gave a quiet laugh. “Yeah, that would explain it,” he commented, “I told her that if she wanted to find a zebra with a sense of humor she’d have to work on her material, but I suppose delusional hostages work too.” He kicked a shell casing on the ground, sending it spinning away under the wall to the outside. “She’s always been the comedian of the group. Acted a lot more like our ancestors from way back before the war.” Nyota’s nervousness faded as she felt he was confiding in her. He obviously wanted to talk with someone about this outside the family. “Killing for her always looked like a chore, you know? She’d never really get anything out of it.” Nyota thought she’d go out on a limb. “Do any of you enjoy it, really?” she inquired, “I mean, April is proof that you don’t need to kill, and you seem like you could get along with zebras if you just tried. Maybe you’re only killing them because they fear you.” At that Roger’s head shot up and he pulled himself off the wall and turned to Nyota. “Oh no no no, my dear blood bag, I LOVE murdering!” he said with a grin, “We all do! It’s amazing! Zebras, griffons, even ponies on the rare occasion that we see one. I’ll kill ‘em all! Hell, even feels good to kill Phantinis and Beests, but animals only squeal, they don’t scream. Man, when you’ve chopped off a leg or two and just start jabbing at them, and their mouth kinda opens and closes, and they get all gaspy, but their mouth is still making noise the entire time, but it’s all weird and stuff, oh man it makes me smile just thinking about it!” Roger let out a long sigh and put on a big smile as Nyota turned pale under her coat. April did mention how he just loved talking about making zebras scream. After a short silence Roger’s toothless smile dimmed into a frown, and he trudged back to the wall and flopped his body against it and started kicking at the dirt again. “And even though everyone else was fine with that- not a single complaint from anyone! April could never get caught up in all of it. We made sure she got her fair share, and she got the job done, but it didn’t lighten her up like it did with the others.” He wrapped his vines around another shell casing and brought it up to his face. “She needed more,” he added, then turned to look at Nyota. “She needed you.” He flicked the casing at her. It bounced off her unflinching forehead and landed at her hooves. “So don’t screw up.” Nyota shook her head to get the murderous speech out of her head and think about what the plant just told her. She was accepting a mission was all, and this was a higher up making sure she succeeded. She responded accordingly, putting on a determined face and saluting the plant before telling him, “Don’t worry sir, I will not let anything happen to your niece.” He waved his hoof dismissively. “Oh please, she’s much more likely to get you killed than the other way around,” he clarified. “Thing is, that’s what I’m afraid of,” he added. After giving her a second to look bewildered, Roger elaborated on his fear, his tone growing harsh. “If you drop dead in the middle of the desert, she’ll live off the fluids in your corpse for maybe a week, then get her roots about 20 feet farther from the middle of nowhere, then shrivel up and die. As different as she is, she’s still family, and we don’t want her crumbling to dust because of some dumb zebra when she could have just stayed grumpy but alive back with us.” Nyota was finally realizing the weight of the decision she made so quickly last night. “So basically,” she surmised, “If I die, you’ll kill me.” Roger chuckled. “There you go, zebra, you finally got it,” he said, then gave her a leafy jab to the shoulder. “So was that all you wanted to tell me?” Nyota asked, sensing that the conversation had come to a decent conclusion. “Pretty much. Let’s get back to-Oh wait!” Roger answered, holding a black and white vine out to stop her. “When you’re talking with april, don’t bring up that she’s only got the one flowerbud.” Nyota recalled noticing that all the other Living Joke had flowers all around them but April only had the one on her root. When she looked up at Roger, baffled, he added “It’s a plant thing. I figured you probably wouldn’t have guessed that on your own.” Roger pulled back his vine and the two started walking back to the others. * * *                        * * *                        * * * As they walked back to the main group by the gate, now wide open, Nyota overheard the tail end of April’s father ending a conversation. “-But don’t ever think that this means we don’t want you here.” he assured. “No, I understand,” April responded, “This is just because I-” She turned towards the two creatures coming around the bend. “Oh hey! You’re done talking or whatever! And Roger didn’t kill you! Awesome!” “I’m inclined to agree,”Nyota snarked back as Roger blended back into the herd/field. “Are you done talking with your father?” she inquired. “Yeah, I think so. I think we get each other now,” April said. “Though I wouldn’t suggest talking with him yourself, I think he has a thing against zebras.” she warned. “I’m standing right here, you know,” April’s father huffed, “But, yes, I do.” “Well then we better get on our way!” Nyota declared, disguising concern as eagerness. “We got the whole capital between us and the things before we do the stuff.” she continued, partially joking, partially not wanting to reveal much, partially clueless on what her actual plans were. “Then stuff we shall do and to things we shall go!” April echoed enthusiastically. She trotted joyfully away from her family and over to Nyota. The two bro-hoofed, and Nyota realised she was already building up a resistance to the icky feeling of April’s vines on her coat. “Well then... I guess we’ll get out of your way,” muttered April’s father, turning back to the plants. “Living Joke!” he roared, “Part!”. The ground began to rumble as various roots and vines tore out of the ground and moved off the gate’s pathway. The zebra cautiously began walking toward the long sought after gate, careful not to step in any of the holes in the ground left by the Living Joke. April followed happily and hoppily behind. Nyota could almost hear the spring in her step, but could quite clearly hear the plant’s vine of a tail shiping around and smacking the ground after landing each hop. For a second she wondered if that hurt, then quickly came to the realisation that April probably didn’t really care. She was happy, probably more happy than she had been in her whole life. She was finally leaving a family that was by no means bad, only stifling. In a sense, it was really just a matter of ideology. April cared too much about laughing and not enough about screaming. Next thing she knew, Nyota was on the other side of the gate, back into the Savanna. She could see nothing but sand in all directions, even up, as she could see the beginnings of a small sand storm. She stopped and turned to look at the camp she had been in for the last day. This was her first time seeing it from the proper direction and elevation. The walls were much smoother on the outside, but tagged with more graffiti (“Blue Demons, Fuck off!”, “Badasses only”, etc.). Uncle Roger poked his head out around the gate to see the two. “Hey April!” he screamed, trying to speak through the strong wind. “Come back any time if you need anything!” he offered. “You betcha’ Roger!” April hollered back, giving a wave and a wink. And with that, the plant and the mare walked off into the horizon. “Any idea where we’re going?” April pondered. “Um... forward?” Nyota answered. “Good enough for me!” * * *                        * * *                        * * * “I’m booooored” April moaned as she and Nyota continued through the Savanna. “We’ve been out here for days!” “It’s barely been an hour,” Nyota corrected. “But it feels like days. Days and days and days. All that’s in front of us is dirt and sand, all that’s behind is is dirt and sand, all that’s in the air is dirt and sand,” she whined. Nyota chuckled at the plant’s expense. “Remember when we saw that dead tree half an hour ago?” said Nyota, “That was exciting, wasn’t it?” April grunted than feigned a laugh. “Hardy har har, zebra, but I’m the one who’s supposed to making lousy jokes here.” “Well if you’re getting tired we can take a break from walking if you want,” Nyota offered, “We won’t be making it to the city by tonight anyway.” “Bah, you blood and guts zebras may be weak out in the middle of a desert, but Living Joke love it. I’m eating up so much wonderful, delicious sunlight right now I think I may be gaining weight.” She drove the point home by extending her vines out so she looked like she had a bloated stomach. “Well, then quit whining, you’re having the best meal of your life.” “But it’s such a boring meal! I was hoping for more dinner and a show, not dinner and a slowly drudging in what we think is the right direction.” The accusation of being led in the wrong direction irked Nyota more than she was willing to let on, but some annoyance still seeped into her voice. “It’s about 10 AM right now, that means the sun is still in the East, so as long as we keep it at our backs we’ll be going West, a.k.a. towards the Capital.” After saying it out loud, Nyota came to a realization, and amended, “But we’ll have to take a break around noon when the sun’s overhead. Then an hour later we’ll start heading towards the sun.” She turned her head back to the plant as she kept walking. “Believe it or not, I do know what I’m doing.” Mostly. She still didn’t really know what to do when she got to the city, short of a miles long search by a single zebra and a plant that can’t split up. “Well then how about we take that break over there? I think I see shade.” April pointed a vine ahead of them. “I mean, I like the sun and all, but I’ve had about enough photosynthesis for the day.” “Huh?” Nyota turned her head back forward and looked where April indicated. The dust in the air combined with the blazing sun made it nearly impossible to make out, but sure enough, there was some sort of big black blob far in the distance. She figured it was worth a look at least. “Okay, sure. It’s a little earlier than I hoped, but we need to take a break eventually.” April stopped. “Woah!” she gasped. “I’m actually traveling with someone  who will take into consideration where I want to go!” She stood silent in shock, then continued trotting with a bit happier of a demeanor. “This is so weird, but so very much better.” After ten minutes of walking Nyota still couldn’t tell what the big black mass was. Another ten minutes later and she could tell that it was much larger than she thought, taller than a hut, smaller than a house. Another ten and they were standing in front of it. It was huge, about 40 feet long and 10 feet tall. To Nyota it looked like a giant black metal box, with a curved roof on top and a giant plow on what she presumed was the front. Despite looking like it weighed more than the entire residence of the cave and half the cave itself, she could make out giant iron wheels on the bottom, each dug into the dirt two or three inches deep. The upper half of the wheels, along with almost the entire rest of the vehicle, were plated with solid steel, its black paint slowly but surely getting scraped off by the sandstorm to reveal the metallic center. The only places free of armor were the viewport in the front and the windows on either side of the back, all of which were heavily tinted black, so much so that Nyota didn’t even know they were glass until she went up and touched it. She dragged her hoof around the entire thing, feeling the texture of the metal. She felt all the dents from bullets bouncing off, the rough of paint being worn off by the sandstorm, bumps from pieces of metal being welded together. She could tell that it had been through a lot since the end of the war, but whoever owned it had put love and care into keeping it up and running, possibly out of survival, possibly out of wanting to keep the past alive. She was hoping to meet this zebra, and dangerously curious about what this thing was. April, however, was not. “Oh, another one of these things.” Nyota’s head snapped back from peering into the dark window. “What? You know what this is?” she blurted, eager to solve the mystery. “Not really, I’ve just seen one before. One of the camps we murderified had one of these rusting away in the back, it wasn’t all black but it was the same machine.The logo on the side was from some company called ‘Skyline Steamer Locomotives.’ It’s kind of like a carriage, but a lot bigger and stronger, and it doesn’t need to be pulled, only steered. I poked around inside to see if it had some horn or something that I could freak everyone out with, but the whole thing was out of power. I could never get it running, but I did get it moving.” Nyota had turned her attention back to the side of the steam engine. “Well, I don’t think it matters anyway,” Nyota sighed. “I can’t find a door anywhere on it, just big metal plates.” While she could probably break through the window with enough time, she had no intention of breaking such a magnificent machine. “No problem, just pull that little doohickey right there,” April mentioned. “What?” Nyota trotted back over to the back. There was another black metal plate covering the back, but it was small enough that she could make out some of the undercarriage and a few connecting axles. On the corner jutted out a large lever with a stiff rubber handle. “So what, this’ll open a door or something?” “I said I got the last one moving, I can get this one moving, too,” April replied. “Well alrighty then.” Nyota clutched the handle with her right hoof and pulled, but to no avail. She put both hooves on it and pulled it down with all her weight. It slowly started moving downward, and Nyota could hear some gears moving into place further in the machine. Then all at once the lever slammed to the ground. “Uh oh.” Nyota gulped. The whole thing started creaking, and Nyota noticed that the wheels had started turning ever so slowly. It was lurching forward, wheels digging into the dirt as it moved. “April, what did you do!” Nyota demanded. “What? I said I could get it moving!” she tried to say while holding back a giggle. “I just didn’t say that we would be outside when I did it.” She snorted and then broke out into a full on laughing fit. “April, this is serious!” Nyota scolded. She was walking right behind the train, trying to put the poorly-labelled parking brake back the way it was, but it was just as stubborn going up as down, and there was no way to get enough leverage to move it again while the machine was inching downhill. “We could have used this thing! You know how much faster we could have gotten to the city if we could ride in one of these?” April pulled herself up after rolling on the floor and trotted over to Nyota, now beside the steamer looking through the windshield. Only then did her laughing die down to just a chuckle as she wiped away imaginary tears in her non-existent eyes. “Oh, come on, it’s still ours! I mean, it’s not going anywhe-” she snorted at her own poor choice of words “Well, it is going somewhere, but we can still use it. It’s heading the wrong direction, yeah, but we can have some fun riding on top of it anyway until it gets to the bottom of a hill and we try opening it up all over again.” Nyota scoffed at April and went from a trot to a canter as the steamer started picking up speed. She turned to her and asked, “Yeah, but what if it runs into something? Or what if-” she cut her sentence short. The machine stopped screeching long enough for her to hear something out in the storm. “Hey, do you hear that?” she whispered. “Huh?” April finally stopped chortling and listened to the wind. “Hey, yeah... It kind of sounds like...” she shaped her vines into a comically large set of ears. “Yeah, like  a voice. Ooh, and he sounds like a very, very angry voice.” “What?” Nyota listened harder, drowning out the sound of the steamer, and she could tell it was a voice, but not any of April’s details. However, she could hear where it was coming from: the other side of the Steamer. Nyota ran up in front of the Steamer and poked her head around the corner. Barrelling at them and the steamer was a blurred figure of black and white. And it was swearing. “Shit motherfucker ass tits cunt cock motherfucker shit ass tits motherfucker shit fuckity fuck fuckity fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK!” the stallion shouted. “Such a colorful vocabulary for such a monochromatic creature,” April muttered, keeping quiet to try and go unnoticed. As he got closer, Nyota noticed that April wasn’t just making a joke about him being a zebra. Once the sand stopped obscuring him, she noticed that he wasn’t black and white; he was black and silver. Specifically, his entire body and armor was solid black as well, but with metallic elements showing around his joints. He also had a pair of metal welding goggles with a black visor, and a giant iron and brass machine on his back. Nyota had never seen neither the giant device on his back, nor a zebra whose coat was entirely black and free of stripes. Was this what a pony looked like? He got about ten feet away from the steamer before planting his hooves on the ground and gritting his teeth“Okay, WHERE are the FUCKTARDS that DID THIS?” he hollered. “Right over here!” April had jumped up from behind the front of the machine and waved a hoof at the foul-mouthed black stallion. Nyota was so busy watching him that she did a double take when April jumped out. She reached out a hoof to pull her back, but by then the stallion had already started revving up the machine on his back. A flurry of metal flew past the windshield of the steamer and ripped apart April’s waving hoof as Nyota pulled the rest of her back behind the steamer, now moving at nearly a gallop. “What the hell April!” Nyota screamed. “You don’t just pop up and wave to a guy who just called you a ‘fucktard’ and has a giant killing machine on his back!” She groaned at her ignorance, then took a look at her foreleg. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, all good,” the plant responded as if she had not just lost a limb. “Got more than enough vines in me to replace a limb every once in awhile.” She showed off her newly reassembled hoof and gave a toothless grin. “So, are we gonna kill him now or what?” she inquired. “What? No!” Nyota answered. She carefully galloped up in front of the steamer and peaked around it. The stallion was having trouble keeping up with the steamer while carrying the weapon on his back, which Nyota figured had to be stationary to fire, otherwise he wouldn’t have planted himself so firmly before. That would be something they could exploit in a fight, but this time Nyota was not going to kill someone so thoughtlessly. “April, this guy just wants his... train-thingy back. For all he knows we’re trying to steal it, which we pretty much were, so he has every right to shoot at us. Not that I’m going to let him.” Nyota felt a pit in her stomach realizing that she actually sided with the person shooting at her friend. “And I thought you hated killing,” she recalled. “Yeah, but he shot me, remember?” the plant reminded her. “And he probably has the keys on him, you know. All we have to do is loot the corpse and we’ll have our own free ride.” She put her leafy hoof around and lifted her other to the sky, somehow galloping on two legs. “Think about it! We could have out own traveling circus! Or sell ice cream out the window,” she suggested. She ran in front of her to look her in the eyes as she grabbed her head with both forelegs, now walking on two legs backwards. “Think about it Nyota,” she whispered, “Ice cream...” “No April, no ice cream!” she hissed back. “We haven’t really done anything bad yet, just released a parking brake. Once this thing rolls to a stop, we’ll just-” SLAM! The steamer stopped so suddenly that both April and Nyota were five feet past it when they finally turned. The steamer had run into the only tree visible, which also happened to be the thickest tree Nyota had seen this century. And yet, the steamer easily cracked its base, and the tree now lie on the Savanna floor. The wheels are still spinning, but the front of the steamer is elevated off the ground and sitting on the tree’s stump. April was shaking her head. “Second tree we’ve seen in two hours, and we run into it.” She turned to Nyota and sighed. “Typical.” April speaking pulled the shock out of Nyota, who then looked from the tree to the stallion on the other side of the steamer, who could not pull his eyes off the minor wreck in front of him, his mouth agape. Then it closed, then he just looked up into the sky and started spitting out curses. “GOD DAMNED FUCK SHIT ASS TITS!” He swung his head back down and looked at Nyota and April, now in the open. “You god damned whores will ass shit ass fuck until you tits ass fuck shit ass.” He was so angry he couldn’t even form real sentences, but Nyota got the full idea of what he was saying. “What a great command of the language,” April said before joining Nyota in leaping behind the steamer. After a short bit of whirring noises, the former location of the two was peppered with lead. The barrage stopped momentarily, just so that the stallion could add, “AND THAT DAMN TREE TOO!” The tree was then brutally assaulted, so much so that the tree was starting to roll backwards from the force of the projectiles. Nyota was surprised to see that the tree had no bullet holes in it, but was speckled with shrapnel and scrap metal. Looks like that giant weapon on his back isn’t a gun. At least, not a normal one. “AAAAAHHHHHH- wait.” The ebony stallion stopped wailing and revved down his gun. “Shit. No, this isn’t going to- damn it!” Nyota was still hiding behind the steamer trying to keep her heart from beating too fast, but she couldn’t help but be curious why he had stopped shooting. She had hoped to do this peacefully, and she still might. “Excuse me sir!” she shouted over the steamer, trying to sound pleasant and not as scared as she was, “Is there something wrong?” “No shit there is, my steamer’s front axle has a tree growing under it.” A surprisingly straightforward answer. Perhaps he’s not just a raider. “We’re sorry about that. Is there something we can do to help?” Nyota offered, trying to extend an olive branch while waving the white flag. “Okay, there are five reasons I’m not going to kill you right now.” One would be enough, but Nyota wanted to hear them. “One: you’re hiding behind cover that I’m not willing to blow up and too slow to get around.” Not what she was hoping for, but he’s right. “Two: you’re more afraid of me than I am of you.” Once again, not what she was hoping for, but entirely true. “Three: My tribe doesn’t really kill unless it’s a necessity, and you guys have already done your damage.” Now that was a lot more interesting, and was a good sign. Perhaps his entire tribe could be reasoned with. “Four: I’ve never met a pony before.” What. “Five: I’m sure as shit not going to be pulling this thing myself.” Now that was what she was expecting. She isn’t going to be getting off scott free for this little incident. It also meant that he didn’t just not want to kill her, he needed her alive. Seems everybody does now Nyota started slowly inching towards the edge of the steamer. “Okay then,” she shouted. She took a deep, then told him, “I’m coming out, I’ve got nothing in my mouth.” She decided to leave out the fact that she had a weapon operated with hooves. She crawled around the corner, fully aware that the stallion had his gun aimed at her. As soon as she was clear of the steamer, she laid prone on the ground to show that she had no intention of starting anything. Now only a few feet from him, she got her first good look at her attacker. His big back-mounted weapon looked nothing like a gun, and more closely resembled a piece of industrial machinery or a bulky household appliance, no moving parts visible from the outside. She could also now see that he wasn’t a pony, just a zebra who’s white stripes were nearly gone. It wasn’t paint, though, it wasn’t wet looking, and it went all the way down to the roots. Even under his hair she could see his skin was dark. Either it was a birth defect, or whatever dye he used was stronger than anything she’d ever seen. The black stallion started evaluating Nyota. “Leather armor, big sword, elixir mixer, two canteens, and...a...” he paused to lean in and get a closer look out of disbelief “... a flower.” She could feel his disconcerting glare from behind the welding goggles. “Now, bring out the pony.” He nodded towards the steamer. “Um, okay,” Nyota murmured. She might as well play along. “Uh, April? you can come out now. And don’t try and kill him.” April joyfully hopped out and stood merrily at Nyota’s side, the former still lying flat on her belly. “Oh wow,” he gasped. “Solid green pony! Or is it blue? Whatever, it’s cool to finally see one.” He eyed her up and down. “And completely naked of armor, weapons, or equipment. No hair even! My my, you are an interesting one.” April giggled, her voice now suspiciously more high-pitched than previously, “Tee hee, you know just what to say.” This zebra’s vision must be as muddled as his coat, and the dark as night welding goggles probably didn’t help. Whatever his vision capabilities, Nyota was not entirely comfortable letting a stallion think he was hitting on something that had a pulse, and even though she was all for letting April have her fun, she was not going to let this zebra realize it on his own and blow her away. “You know that’s not a pony, right?” she informed him. “What?” He moved up to April and looked at her up close, inspecting the vines. “Wait, are those stripes? But you’re green! Are you- wait, wait.” He flipped up his goggles’ visor and immediately flipped it back down again. “Aw assfucks, it’s just a damn plant. A freakish, pony-colored plant with a zebra body. Though a rather sexy plant body if I do say so myself.” He winked at her with his entire body and whistled a pitch-perfect cat call. April giggled like a little filly. Nyota gagged a little. “Okay, how about we stop with the creepy inter-species flirting and get to work fixing that steamer, eh?” she suggested. April cleared her throat. “Ahem, yes, let’s get to the slave labor!” All of a sudden, the magic was lost, and the stallion turned to his steamer and started digging around under it. “It’s not slave labor, it will never be slave labor, I hate slave labor, and slave drivers can go get fucked by Ares, Taurus, and both the Ursas,” he grunted from beneath the chassis of the steamer. April and Nyota withstood the awkward silence as the stallion poked away at the machine. Nyota was constantly being surprised by this stallion. He had values, he had principles, he didn’t attack those who didn’t wrong him, and he was very practical. She could get past the religious differences if need be. Besides, he probably only did it to extend his rather exceedingly used and constantly expanding vocabulary of swearing. He popped back up and trotted over to the side of the steamer. From a compartment in the machine on his back he pulled out what looked like an iron, but with a multitude of wires and worn away bits of metal. When he placed it near the steamer, it jerked forward and latched itself onto the metal plating. Some moving pieces could be heard from the inside of the cabin, then he just pulled it like a handle and the door swung open. Before stepping inside, he turned to the two mares. “I’ve got some back up harnesses in here. If I keep the back wheels powered, you two should be able to pull the rest of the weight. Then when we get back to base you guys can go on doing whatever the fuck it was you were doing.” He jumped in the steamer and rummaged around a bit. Nyota could hear him humming to himself, rather happily considering the situation, then watched as he jumped back out and threw the harnesses in front of her. “Hook ‘em up and get moving, I want to get there by tomorrow morning.” Nyota was not the submissive type, but she was eager to fix a mistake she and her ally made, so she grabbed the harness and started looking for where it attached to the steamer. She also felt that it would be a good idea to get on the positive side of a tribe that is apparently against slavery and murder. The fact that they had seemingly powerful ancient equipment was just icing on the cupcake. Her real hope, though, was that they were large enough and observant enough to have seen the children. Then again, if they were all as blind as this one, she’d be surprised if they could see the sand in the air. April was putting her harness on, seemingly okay with this manual labor. Nyota suspected it had something to do with the recent flirting. “So where are we going anyway?” April asked. Nyota had a guess, but was interested to know as well. “Home,” He replied “The Coal Mine.” Footnote: Level Up. New Perk: Swift Learner - Take it all in, the good and the bad. +10% experience any time experience is gained. ----------------------------------------------------- Co-written by Mr. ShinyObject and Doctor Felix Whooves Edited by Twilight Sparkle This fanfiction is based on Fallout Equestria by Kkat; a familiarity with the source material may aid your understanding. You can read Fallout Equestria by Kkat on Equestria Daily The Fallout: Equestria logo used above was designed by DotRook, who, according to the original deviantArt page, allows usage in supplementary materials created for and associated with the series. Images really do make a difference, so he has our eternal gratitude and respect. If you enjoy Fallout Equestria Side Stories, you will want to check the Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan The Ponychan group is also a hatching ground that you can join if you want to share your experience, writing or comments with us.