Despedida
Fallout: Equestria – Fertile Ground: Despedida
By: Warbalist
The tug boat forced itself through the water. It bobbed only when a gentle wave beat its insignificant resistance against its bow. The rattle of the engine worked in harmony with the glowing spray to disturb the otherwise sleepy atmosphere. It smelled of ammonia.
Red tide.
If it taught anything it was that deadly scum could thrive anywhere and survive anything. Avoiding it was the only reason to travel this far out. The bosses loved their shark fin soup. Hunting would be easy this time. The boat held more than enough chum to tempt quite a few.
Driving from the warmth of the wheelhouse, Limpiador saw the glow fade until only the wheelhouse bulb and deck light remained. The boat groaned to a stop. Tiny waves licked its sides, their lapping the only accompaniment to the heavy gloom. Limpiador tossed a poncho on himself and headed out the door. He neared the steps of the bridge ladder before Almuerzo broke the calm.
“We got the crap job tonight, eh?” He stood in the door frame, silhouetted against the wheelhouse's wash.
“Yeah.”
They climbed down the ladder and walked to the main deck. Limpiador opened the hatch. A rank odor assaulted his senses. Reaching in, he tugged a lumpy tarp onto the deck.
“Who’s for dinner tonight?” asked Almuerzo.
“This guy and the other three are the last of the Mascarpony family. As far as I know, at least.” Another lumpy tarp.
“Jaja! The Mascarponies.” He bent down to stare at a stony face peeking out of one of the tarps. “You all just tried so hard. BP-16 beat your ass, eh holmes? Hmm. I guess West Coast just wasn't for you.”
Limpiador laid the last one out on the deck. He methodically started untying and uwrapping them. A windless chill seeped in through his poncho. The struggle for resources had revealed its grisly head at last. Ever since the Steel Rangers had popped from their hidey-holes, the wasteland had tightened its grip around the fragile neck of its own stockpiles. The ponies at the top were putting the squeeze on it. They were hungry. Before him lay the evidence.
Almuerzo peered into the darkness of the hatch. “Hey, there's one more in here,” he said.
“Yeah. I know.” He had no desire to pull him out. Even from the hatch he could hear the question: Why you? Why did they send you?
“Who was this one?”
Limpiador dragged the first leaking body astern. Struggling under its weight, he heaved the corpse over the gunwale. It spattered against water. With how much they all reeked, it wouldn't take long for the sharks to gather. He grabbed the next one, answering Almuerzo as he worked. “Mi hermano.”
Almuerzo's eyes went wide. “No shit? Ahi, that's harsh, güey. I'm sorry.”
“Don’t feel that. He went against blood, holmes. It's reason enough. Gotta keep a tight ship, right? No, hmph! Hijole, this guy weighs a ton.” Splash. “But no, you can't just run away from Banda Palomina and expect everything’s gonna be all great. You were born en la Banda, that's where you die.” He hauled another stiff across the deck and pushed it over the side.
“Tell me about him.”
“Why do you want to know so bad, anyway?” Limpiador squeezed out of his poncho and wiped the sweat from his forehead with it. He tossed it on the deck. A shiver coursed through him, brought on by the gentlest breeze. It tasted bitter. Salty.
“I just wanna know, güey. C'mon. Tell me.”
“Well... Ahi, this one's sticky. Okay. He liked to draw, you know? He made most of that huge mural.”
“No mames! That thing's amazin'. Frickin' three stories high. How'd he do it?”
Splash. “He was super-frickin’ patient. Seriously, our abuelita would tell all kinds of stories when she was cooking and he would just sit there and listen to her. I don't know how he could stand it. Makes what he did to be marked even weirder.”
“What'd he do?”
The last Mascarpony lay in a small huddle in the middle of her tarp. Even in the stark light Limpiador couldn't tell if she wasn’t fully-grown or just tiny. He gently cradled the poor thing and dropped her overboard with ease. “He thought that he could live a better life with the Fire Stones. Deserted us. Couldn't handle things anymore? That's what I was told, anyway. I dunno. He could fight and party with the best of 'em. Maybe it was a girl, güey?”
“Maybe it was a boy.”
Limpiador crooked his neck, shooting Almuerzo a glare. “What's that, pendejo?”
“Hey, I'm sorry, güey, alright? But I'm being serious. Think about it. He listened to your abuelita's stories. Weren't they mostly about the stallions? He partied and killed and all that, but did you ever see him with a mare for too long? Did he ever hang with them alone? Didn't he seem kinda distracted the past few months, too?”
Limpiador stood still for a second. It was dangerous to be a pony like that in BP-16. Everypony was supposed to have foals in order to repopulate Equestria. He'd never thought of his brother like that before. His brother was someone he could always depend on, the best drinking buddy, and no one could touch his ability with a rifle. How could he have missed the signs? No hidden copies of Wingboner magazine, but always a bit more secretive, like there was something hidden behind his eyes. How could Limpiador have missed it? “But what about Sorpresa?”
Almuerzo shook his head. “She would get too drunk to try anything, güey. Besides, she got bored of his slow pace.”
The trickle of water morphed into a nasty sloshing. “Oops! Gotta hurry.” Limpiador pulled his brother out of the hatch, laid him on the deck and untied the tarp. His face was frozen in the same resigned expression he wore when Limpiador extinguished his life. As Limpiador tugged the board-like corpse to the gunwale, he started to shake. Was that really it? Was that the only reason he was saying “goodbye”?
He could hear the crunching sounds of the hungry sea-dwellers tearing into their meal.
No, he thought. No. Our leaders have protected the barrio for years. They know what keeps us safe. They know what's good for us. Don't they?
Limpiador stared at the pony who taught him everything he knew. His past stared back through closed eyes. He sniffled. “Vaya con las Diosas... mi hermano.” With that, he hauled his brother up and over the side.
-
The harpoon worked wonders that night. Five sharks. He'd done the trip many times, but this was his first hunt alone. It was much easier than he thought it'd be. Hauling them onto the deck was a little tough, but once they were dispatched it wasn't so bad.
Glowing foam sprayed from the bow as the tug coursed through the water. Limpiador thanked the Goddesses for the warmth of the wheelhouse. He glanced at his brother's old drawing dangling near the corner of the clear view screen. The two of them wore power armor, helmets off. His brother screamed “¡Orale!” while Limpiador took up the charge against the evil hordes of zebra warriors.
Good times.
A grim smile spread over Limpiador's muzzle. “Despedida, Almuerzo.”
---
A giant "thank you" to yetanotherpony, a wonderful editor and good friend. Another one to Mittens, for whom you should buy cake.
This story is based on Kkat’s strange and wonderful, Fallout: Equestria. If you haven’t already, please do so. Here’s the link: Equestria Daily
If you’d like to read more Fallout Equestria Side Stories, take a look at: Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan
Thank you also to Arcane Scroll for the excellent site: Fallout: Equestria Resource. There is a chat function on that site, come say “hello.”