Fallout Equestria: A Robot’s Lament

Chapter 8: Clues

“Dust it for hoofprints!”

I sat by Cyborg the whole time Peddler was out.

It was mostly for protection, but I also wanted to make sure he was getting on alright. Taking a bullet was hard enough, but taking one to the shoulder was probably excruciating. All the muscles in a leg meet at the shoulder, and having a bullet punch through them was probably not the best thing that could happen.

Cyborg himself had fallen asleep in no time; his body moving until it found a comfortable position. Thankfully it wasn’t one that put pressure on the affected area. The bandages that covered it were almost completely crimson red. I’d have to replace them soon, but it’d have to be after Cyborg had woken up.

I almost felt some relief when the door to the Overmare’s office opened. Turning my head, I saw Peddler walk into the room; balancing two medical kits on his back. He walked over to the two of us, grabbed a kit, and handed it to me.

“That one has a few healing potions and med-x. Should be enough to get him back on his hooves”.

Peddler took the other medical kit behind the Overmare’s desk, laying it down next to a small pile of assorted items. He took a seat behind the desk and turned to the terminal that sat on top of it.

I took the time to grab two healing potions, some med-x, and another roll of bandages from the medical kit. Slowly, I shook Cyborg until he eventually opened his eyes. He used his good leg to rub any remaining substances from them before looking at me.

“What’s up,” he asked sleepily.

I held up the healing potions and med-x. “Time for another potion and some more med-x. I’m also going to need to change your bandages too”.

Cyborg huffed. “Didn’t I say that we should save our supplies for latter?”

“Yes,” I said as I uncorked the healing potion. “But this all comes courtesy of our new friend. So keep still and take your medicine like a stallion”.

Cyborg’s face didn’t have a hint of amusement, but he still took the potion. As he did, I used magic to unwrap the bandages, which were practically dripping with blood. I set them aside and examined the bullet wound. The hole was beginning to close up, but blood was still pouring from it.

I injected some more Med-x near the wound, and I could see some of the pain leave Cyborg’s face. After that I wrapped the wound up again, tieing it off once it was on tight enough.

“That should do for now,” I said as I cleaned up the empty syringe and bloody bandages. “Hopefully it’ll be fully healed next time we take it off”.

Cyborg shifted his leg until his shoulder was in a more comfortable position. “Which hopefully will be when we’re out of this hellhole”.

Peddler, who was still typing on the Overmare’s terminal, turned towards us. “Hey, it could be worse. You could be outside, camping in the middle of a field or valley. At least here you’re surrounded by thick concrete walls and metal doorways”.

“And the sickly reminder of what really happened here,” Cyborg shot back.

I paused for a moment, thinking about the experiment that Stable-Tec had pushed onto the stable’s inhabitants. I thought about Clip and how he’d sacrificed himself trying to disable the collars. How the ponies here had suffered greatly by losing their country, and then facing the possibility of death.

“Maybe we should just leave it,” I said quietly. “Thinking about it will only make it worse”.

Cyborg turned his head towards me, then up at the ceiling. He let out a soft sigh, “yeah….you’re right”.

Peddler, who’d been watching the two of us, coughed to get my attention.

“If I might make a suggestion: why don’t you two stay for a while. Night around here ain’t kind to ponies, as I’m sure you’re away. Plus it gives you time to sleep and recuperate before setting off”.

I did a quick check of my internal clock: it was getting rather late. And I still didn’t feel comfortable about Cyborg moving for another few hours.

“Well, I suppose we can stay for the night,” I said, taking a seat in front of the Overmare’s desk.

Cyborg gave me a quick look, then went back to staring at the ceiling. His half-closed eyes gave me the impression that he was too tired to argue with me. And personally, I was fine with that.

Peddler smiled. “Well, if we’re going to be spending the night together, we might as well know a little about one another”.

He nodded in Cyborg’s direction. “First things first; what’s his story?”

I shrugged. “Not quite sure myself. I’ve only been traveling with him for two days; and there hasn’t really been much talking between us”. I paused, “and even when there is, it’s mostly about how I know nothing about the wasteland”.

Peddler put his hooves together, leaning in toward me. “Why?”

“Parden?”

Peddler’s eyebrow rose. “Well when a pony doesn’t know much about the wasteland, it’s usually because they’re a Stable Pony. But you don’t have a jumpsuit or Pip-Buck, not to mention your attitude is far too kind”.

I lowered my head slightly. It was hard to tell whether or not a pony could be trusted with the information about what I am. Would he freak out and think I’m a synth? Maybe he’d be like Cyborg and not care.

And besides; I didn’t want to always hide what I am just because ponies might not trust me. If he didn’t, I’d leave and ask him to make sure Cyborg got out safely. I could wait for him outside the stable. If he did, then I could probably relax for a little while.

I raised my head back up, giving the earth pony the most confident face I’d ever given. “That’s because I’m a robot butler from before the war”.

For a moment, it was hard to read his expression. It looked to be surprised, but then it also looked scared, confused, and worried at the same time. He stayed like this for a few seconds, more than likely thinking over the information he’d be given.

“Well,” he said eventually, “that’s something I didn’t think I’d hear today”.

I raised an eyebrow. “So...are you going to shoot me?”

Now he had a clear look on his face: confusion.

“Now why in Equestria would I do that?”

I shrugged. “Most ponies I’ve meet think I’m one of TSIM’s synths. Either they pull a gun on me or threaten me; but the end result is always hatred.”

Peddler was silent for a second, thinking over what I said. Personally I didn’t really care what he thought about the whole thing, like I didn’t care if he knew I was a robot. If he was sympathetic, I’d add him to the short list of ponies who don’t hate me. If he wasn’t, then he’d just be the next name on the long list I’d already filled.

“Hm...well I’m sorry to hear that. Ponies out in the wasteland usually attack what they don’t understand. And with TSIM being the most mysterious thing this side of Baltimare, anything they make is destined to be hated”. He paused for a moment, “and that includes anything that remotely resembles their technology”.

I grinned slightly; it seemed almost like a cruel joke. I thought back to before the war; how Zebras had been seen as our greatest enemy. Some Zebras had been living in Equestria since before the war, but after it started they were labeled as the enemy. That’s not to say that it wasn’t completely false, but I did think that (perhaps) there were some that were loyal to Equestria.

But I didn’t want to dwell on this subject for much longer. So instead I decided to switch the talk around.

“So Peddler, what about you? What’s your story?”

“Actually,” he said with a hint of annoyance, “it’s PRODIGIOUS Peddler. It doesn’t work unless you say the whole thing”.

I shot a quick glance back at Cyborg, raising an eyebrow as to say “really”. He shot a similar look back at me.

“Okay,” I said turning back around, “Prodigious Peddler. So what’s your story: what kind of pony are you?”

“Simple,” he said with a grin, “I’m a salespony. I travel the wasteland buying, selling, and scavenging items that could turn a profit. As I’ve learned: nothing’s junk. There’s always somepony willing to pay top price for a busted circuit-board or some dirty old dress”.

“Well that explains the cart we saw by the Stable door,” said Cyborg. “You sure do have a large inventory”.

“Yep, before coming here I looked through an abandoned market. Found lots of old food and salvageable tec. Next town I visit will have plenty to choose from”.

It was at this time that a lightbulb went off in my head….not literally but mentally. If this stallion had a cart loaded with “fresh” supplies, then I knew a town that could do with a little bit of business right now.

“If that’s the case,” I said with a grin, “I known a town that could really use some supplies”.

I seemed to peak Peddler’s interest, because he leaned forward and matched my grin.

“Really? And just what might that town be called?”

“Trotsville,” I said leaning back in the chair. “They’ve just been subject to a synth attack, and could use some supplies to get back on their hooves”.

I expected Peddler to be shocked by this, or at least take a moment to think about what he’d just heard. But instead, he contorted his grin into an uncertain frown. He slowly leaned back into his chair, rubbing his chin at the same pace.

“I know what happened to Trotsville. Heard it from a bartender two days ago. Radio stations report the news too slowly; word of mouth is the best source of information in the wasteland”.

“So….you’re going to head over there for trading….right?”

“Why do you think I was heading down the 34 in the first place. Figured the town could use a little trading, and I knew just where to go to get the supplies. Course once I heard rumors about a stable in the area, I had to see if it was true. And, well, you know what happened next”.

Indeed, and it was a good thing that we came along. My hardware could only wonder what could have happened if we hadn’t shut off the collars. Other ponies hearing about this stable could be draw in and unwittingly get three lights.

Still, I knew that was in the past. I had to put my focus back on getting to Buck Crossing. Pulling up my maps, I saw that Buck Crossing was just a three hour walk from here. So as soon as the sun came up, me and Cyborg would finally reach our destination.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to power down for the night,” I said before sliding off the chair and heading towards a corner of the room. “Just give me a kick or something when it’s time to leave. I’ll start up again”.

“Alright, if you say so,” said Peddler.

I laid down in the corner before switching my systems to sleep mode. Slowly, I felt my eyelids droop and the darkness of sleep-mode take over.

The next morning came quickly, and everypony was ready to leave the stable.

Cyborg’s injuries had recovered enough that it was only slightly irritating to walk. Despite my insistence, he refused to take any more medicine. (“We need to save it for later!”). I only hoped that he’d feel no pain after another few hours.

Peddler spent the first hour away taking anything of value from the stable. Now that the security was down, it was easy to get the items deeper in the lower levels. He had to make a few trips, but eventually he was able to load everything into his cart.

Once me and Cyborg had gotten all of our supplies, we met Peddler by the stable door. I made quick work of sealing it back up, and making sure that anypony trying to get in would face a tough firewall. The three of us agreed that the less ponies had access to this place the better.

The three of us traveled back to the 34 before splitting up. Peddler promised to stop by Trotsville, and that he’d alert other traders to head there as well. He also gave us some supplies on the house for “saving his flank”. After a short exchange of goodbyes, Peddler turned and headed up the 34 towards Trotsville.

And that left Cyborg and I once again on our way to Buck Crossing.

Two hours and fifty minutes later, Cyborg and I were coming up on Buck Crossing. The walk there had been pretty silent: the only bit of action was Cyborg impaling a bloatsprite with a piece of broken metal. The radio hadn’t any good news stories, and the music was pretty much the same.

Soon we were traveling over a small hill, which according to Cyborg had Buck Crossing on the other side. I hopped that was true; I was dying to get there and find Hatchet. I was so close to finding where my family was that I was also shaking with tension.

As we reached the top of the hill, I cast my gaze to what lay on the other side. What I saw was one of the most bizarre locations I had ever seen.

A large river cut through the land down below. Even from up here I could tell that it was polluted: dirt and grime piled up at the surface.

But what was even more surprising was that was spanning the river. A large dam sat almost directly in the center of my line of sight. Houses and other buildings sat on the top, and even more along the sliding wall at the front. Walkways spread out, connecting the lower houses to the ones along the top.

Years of wear and tear had caused a lot of deterioration: in fact the left portion of the dam was gone, and water was rushing through the breach. A small bridge spanned it, completing the connection to the other side.

And the other side was quite the sight to behold.

While the side me and Cyborg were on looked dark and depressing, the other side was even worse. Darker clouds rumbled overhead, and a light greenish mist hung over the land. The earth was even more barren and rough than the rest of the wasteland. The only familiar sight was a winding road that lead into the distance.

“Buck Crossing,” said Cyborg. “You’ll never find a more wretched hub of scum and villainy”.

“And the land on the other side of the dam is Raider County, right?”

Cyborg nodded. “Let’s just hope that pony you’re looking for hasn’t gone through there. I’m sure you can tell why only raiders live on that side”.

Yes I did: the place looked like something out of a nightmare. Even by wasteland standards the whole place looked unsettling. Still, that wasn’t our concern right now. That was finding Hatchet and making him tell me what he did to my family.

“Alright, let’s go,” I said before starting my way down the hill. Cyborg followed close behind, keeping his eyes fixed on the dam.

We made our way down the hill and across the small stretch of road towards the entrance. As we got closer, I saw that the entrance was a small circular building. A single pony stood at the top, looking out over the area. It was a unicorn stallion, with a white mane and steel pelt. He wore patched metal armor, which had some kind of sign on it that I couldn’t read.

As we got closer, the stallion finally noticed us walking towards the entrance. His horn ignited and a large sniper rifle floated off his back. And a second later, it was pointing straight at us.

“Stop right there!”

The two of us froze in our tracks: memories of what Cyborg and others had said about this place were coming back. I just hopped that this stallion didn’t have a sensitive trigger on his gun.

“What’s your business in Buck Crossing?”

Cyborg nudged me in the side; clearly telling me to take the lead. I grimaced before turning to towards the guard.

“We’re just here to look for somepony!”

The guard’s rifle didn’t lower; in fact I distinctly heard the sound of it clocking. And thanks to the zoom in my eyes, I could see his face scrunching in concentration. I was almost ready to turn and run, and was hoping that Cyborg had the same idea. But I decided to stand my ground and see what happened.

“So what are you: Bounty Hunters? Hired Guns?”

Okay, I didn’t expect him to ask that.

“No, we're not,” shouted Cyborg. “We’re here looking for a hired gun”.

The stallion’s concentrated face slowly reformed into a sly grin. He floated his sniper rifle onto his back again, then turned and walked into a doorway behind him. A few seconds later, one of the large wooden doors slowly pushed open. The stallion stood on the other side, usher us forward.

“That was easy,” said Cyborg as he walked forward.

I stood still for a few seconds while I thought about what had just happened. This stallion was ready to shoot us, but the moment we say we’re looking for a hired gun he let’s us inside. In most places that would get you turned away from a town, not let in.

“You coming in or not?”

Breaking out of my thought bubble, I saw that the guard was tapping his foot impatiently. Cyborg was already on the other side, waiting for me to follow suite. I quickly gathered my wits and made my way forward. Once I was through the doorway, the guard quickly closed it and turned to us.

“Fair warning: folks in this town aren’t the nicest. If you have a problem….don’t bother asking for help. That’s not part of our job”.

And with that he headed for a small staircase, leaving me and Cyborg on our own again.

“Well he seemed nice,” said Cyborg.

“In what way?”

That stallion had just told us we were on our own if something were to happen. He was a guard: it was there job to protect others. And yet he just told us that wasn’t the case? If this was just the front gate, I could only imagine what the rest of the town was like.

“Like I said; ponies in this town are assholes. He may be one too, but at least he was nice enough to warn us about it. Whether we knew the information or not, he at least cared enough to share it with us”.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Cyborg had a point. But that just meant that there was probably even worse ponies waiting for us in town. I just hoped that one of them was Hatchet.

Cyborg and I headed through the large archway that lead into town. Small bits of broken metal hanged from the top, giving it the look of a large monstrous mouth.

When we passed through the “mouth”, we got a better look of the town. Scrap-metal shacks lined the sides of the road, while the center was taken up by a few small carts. The shacks weren’t particularly large, but still big enough to hold a small family. The carts in the middle looked like they’d been converted into shopping-stands: each had a window display attached to the side.

The spots not taken up by shacks or carts was filled in with ponies. Some had saddle-bags, while others were simply walking around. There really weren’t that many; around 25 in total. So it was easy to make our way down the street.

“Sure are a lot of stores, ” I said as I looked over the area.

Cyborg did the same, but he also let out an uncertain “hm”. He stopped walking forward, and instead headed for the closets shack. He pulled the door open and peered inside, only for him to pull back out and shut the door quickly.

He turned and walked back towards me, looking very disgusted. “What wrong?”

“Drug den,” he said with a snarl. “Just a bunch of ponies sitting on couches injecting themselves with needles or huffing Dash”.

I wish I could say I was surprised, I really did. But after what Cyborg had said and the way we’d been treated at the front gate, I wasn’t really surprised anymore. In fact I distinctly remember Cyborg saying this town was filled with “drunk bastards and drug addicts”.

“Well now we know where NOT to look. Now the only question is where we should START looking”.

Cyborg seemed to have a hunch, and quickly pointed behind me. I turned and saw a set of stairs going up and over the Dam’s railing. From what I saw up on the hill, it likely lead to the buildings on the Dam’s front.

“I don’t think any buildings up here will have Hatchet. So he’s more than likely down in one of the other buildings”.

“Then let’s get to it,” I said before heading towards the stairs. Cyborg followed along behind me.

We walked up the few steps to the to platform, and I took a peek over the side. More stairs led to walkways that zig-zagged down the length of the dam’s front. The buildings looked like they were bolted to the concrete. A few ponies were walking along the paths, while others were sitting outside certain buildings.

The one building the really caught my attention was one that sat at the Dam’s midway point. I pointed it out to Cyborg, who agreed that it was worth checking out. We made our way down the remaining stairs to the walkways below. Thanks to the view from above, I was able to lead us down the path towards the center building.

As we did, I took time to look at the other buildings as we passed by. Most of them seemed to be houses: ponies would take a look out the window, see us walk by, and quickly shut the blinds. We passed by two shops on the second level: one that sold food and another that sold general supplies. The ponies at the counters didn’t seem to pleased when we took a peek inside.

After a few minutes of walking, we reached the center building. It was two stories: with the top floor having a balcony to go along with it. Two signs hung above the door. One read: RESIDENTIAL APPLICATION CENTER. The other read: ESCORT OFFICES.

“Escort? Like another name for a-” I started before Cyborg cut me off.

“I don’t think so,” he said quickly. “But I think this is the place we’re looking for”.

“Why?”

“Because,” he said pointing to the top sign, “a residential application center must keep records of the ponies that live here. So if Hatchet’s in one of these buildings, this place should be able to tell us which one”.

That seemed like a logical deduction, but I just hoped it was true. The closer we got to finding Hatchet, the closer we got to finding my family.

“Alright then, let’s go”.

The two of us pushed open the door and walked inside. From the outset, it looked like a large lobby. A couch and chair sat in the right corner, along with a few dead plants. To the left was a long counter, behind which was a terminal and a few filing cabinets. A rose colored unicorn mare sat behind the counter as well, reading an old magazine. A small hallway stretched along the center of the building, leading to a staircase.

The mare looked over at us when we opened the door. She placed her magazine on the counter and sat up straight. “Welcome to the Residential Application Center. How can I help you today?”

She didn’t sound very enthusiastic, but then again working here must have been boring. I mean, how often were people coming in here looking for residence?

Cyborg and I trotted over to the counter.

“Hello,” I said with a smile. The mare didn’t reply in kind, so I continued. “We’re here looking for somepony that might live in town. We were hoping you could help us”.

The mare snorted. “Not my job to help ponies remember where their friend’s house is”.

“It’s not like that,” said Cyborg. “This pony took something very precious to my friend, and he wants to get it back”.

“Then take it up with the guards,” she said with a huff. “They handle stolen goods”.

Now I was getting annoyed: this mare didn’t seem to have any compassion. “They told us they don’t handle anything beside guarding the gate”.

“Oh, too bad then,” she grabbed the magazine and began reading again. “I’m sure you know the way out”.

I don’t know if it was my anger or sense of desperation, but I found myself igniting my horn and beginning to pull Celestia’s Thunder out. Thankfully for everyone, Cyborg put his hoof in front of me. I got the message and cut the magic, while Cyborg ignited his horn. One of our two jars of caps floated out, and he gave it a small shake.

The sound of the caps rattling around got the mare’s attention. She put the magazine back down and leaned in closer, now smiling happily.

“Let’s try this again: how much to get the information we need?”

The mare’s grin widened. “Are you trying to bribe me? Because if you are...it’s working”. She held out her hoof, “fifty caps for the intell. No bargaining”.

Cyborg took fifty caps out of the jar and gave them to the mare. She placed them in a drawer, then turned to the filing cabinets behind her. “What’s the pony’s name?”

“Hatchet,” I replied.

The mare opened a drawer labeled “A-J” and began looking through the files. After a few seconds, she pulled out one near the back. Even from behind the counter, I saw the name on the tab was “Hatchet”. The mare opened the file and read over the information.

“Okay, let’s see where he lived. It looks like….”

“Wait,” I said cutting her off, “what do you mean lived?”

The mare looked toward us. “This stallion...Hatchet...doesn’t live here anymore. He moved our about….three weeks ago”.

If I had any blood, it would have been running cold. We’d missed him: by a long shot. He was probably far away now, and we didn’t know where that was. How was I supposed to find my family now?

“Did he say where he was going,” asked Cyborg.

“No. And even if he did, I don’t pay attention to pony’s personal lives”.

Cyborg turned toward me. “Looks like we’re at a dead end”.

I was inclined to agree with him, but I wasn’t willing to give up that easily. Even if he didn’t say where he was going, he must have left some clue behind. And I had a good idea about where to find it.

“Has his house been cleared out,” I asked.

“No,” said the mare shaking her head, “we only clean the houses out when somepony buys them”.

“And where is his house?”

The mare checked the folder again. “He lived at the very bottom of a dam. There’s a house there are the very end of the walkway; right next to the waterfall”.

Great, we had a location. I just hoped that we could find some clue as to where he was down there. “Thank you for the information,” I said before heading for the door.

Cyborg ran up to me, “what’s the plan”?

“Find the house, find out where Hatchet went, and then head out after him”.

The house was exactly where the mare had said.

After leaving the Application Center, Cyborg and I made our way to the bottom of the dam. We passed a few more buildings on the way down; houses like most of the others. We also passed a small bar, just as a pony inside was thrown out the door. Unfortunately, the force was too much and he ended up missing the walkway and falling down into the river below. I can still hear the sound of him hitting the water.

When we reached the bottom level, we headed down towards the very end of the walkway. There weren’t any houses along the side; just a lot of graffiti. Most of it was advertisements for drug dealers in town. I could only imagine what kind of ponies they were.

As Hatchet’s house loomed closer, I was able to make it out more clearly. Unlike the rest of the house (which were made of scrap metal), this house was made of wood. It sat on a large concrete square that was attached to the dam. Behind it was the “waterfall” from the hole at the top. Compared to the rest of the houses in town, this one was pretty luxurious.

“So this is it,” I said as he stopped in front of the door. There didn’t seem to be any windows, so there was no hope of us getting in that way. “So how do we get in? I’m not too good with non-electric loc….”

My words were cut short by the sound of a gun going off. With only a second to react, I barely saw a bullet pass into the lock of the door. The mechanism blasted apart, and the door creaked open slightly. I looked back and saw Cyborg holstering his pistol.

“There, problem solved”.

I snorted. “Maybe give me a little warning next time?”

“Noted,” he said with a grin. “But still, at least we got a way inside”.

That was true, and I was thankful for it. Not wanting to waste anymore time, I pushed the door open and walked inside with Cyborg following behind.

The place was, in a wasteland way, nice. A large couch and coffee table sat to the left of the entrance. To the right was a small kitchen; complete with a fridge and oven. The far right corner opened to a balcony that overlooked the waterfall. Two chairs and a table completed the set.

The far left was taken up by a small bedroom and bathroom. Overall the place didn’t look like it had been lived it. Besides a few magazines and a tool box on the table, there wasn’t anything of interest here.

“Maybe they did clean this place out,” said Cyborg. He moved over to the kitchen and began looking through the cupboards. “Still, best to check everything”.

“Right then, I’ll check the bedroom”.

I headed for the left corner and began looking around. Unfortunately my search under the bed and in the dresser turned up nothing. The bathroom didn’t hold anything either: just a syringe of Med-X. I kept it just in case we needed it later.

I headed back out into the main room, where Cyborg was waiting for me. “I check the couches and the balcony,” he said, “couldn’t find anything. What about the bed and bath?”

“Nothing,” I replied with a huff. “I don’t get it: how could a pony not leave behind any….”

I was cut off once again by a sound: but it wasn’t a bullet this time. Instead it was the sound of something creaking below my hoof. Not only that, but I felt the floor push down as well.

Looking down, I saw the reasoning for this. Below my hoof was a square cut out in the floor. My hardrive knew what it was the moment I saw it: a trap door. “Jackpot”, I said as I stepped off the door.

Encasing it with magic, I pulled the board out of the hole. Placing it down, I looked and saw what it was coving. A large metal door with a hatch on it was embedded in the concrete structure below.

“Very clever,” said Cyborg. “A secret room. Maybe that’s why he wanted this place”.

“I have a feeling they didn’t know this was here”.

I encased the latch in magic and pulled, bringing the door up with it. The two of us looked down into the space below, but it was too dark to make anything out. The only thing visible was a small stairway leading down into the room.

“Robots first,” said Cyborg with a grin.

Attempt at humor? Maybe, but I wasn’t in a humor mood. Instead I ignited my horn and headed down the stairs with Cyborg following me. With the magic from my horn, I was able to see where I was going, but not the rest of the room.

As we reached the bottom, I notice a light switch on the wall. I quickly flicked it, and soon the whole room was alight. Me and Cyborg looked it over.

It looked this was, or had once been, a storage unit. Shelves lined the walls of the room, each filled with different sizes of crates. Most of them were open, while others looked like they hadn’t been open in almost 200 years.

In the center of the room was a large table, on which sat an assortment of items. A few folders sat at one end, while the other end had something I couldn’t identify from the stairs.

“Looks like he isn’t here,” observed Cyborg.

“Yeah, but maybe he left a clue to where he was going,” I said as I trotted to the table. “Look at these”.

The objects I’d seen from the table were something I knew rather well. They were holotapes: devices that could record a holographic message for playback later. They were similar to memory orbs, but these could be used by anypony. You just needed a projector to create the hologram.

I picked up one of them and examined it carefully. “Maybe these can give us a clue as to where Hatchet went”.

“Holotapes? You really think that he made a recording telling us where he was going?”

“It’s worth a shot,” I ignited my horn and levitated the holotape around to my back. “At the very least it should tell us what he was doing here”.

I pulled part of my “skin” aside, revealing a slot underneath. Part of my original design was the ability to record and playback holotapes. So I slipped the tape into the slot, sorted through my programing, and started it up.

The color of my horn changed to a light blue, and a beam shot out from the tip. Cyborg stepped back as a pony began to form from the light. It took a second, but soon the image of Hatchet stood before us.

“This is Hatchet, recording my progress as instructed by TSIM. I can report that I have established a temporary base of operation in Buck Crossing. The locals will not be an issue as previously believed. They’re either too drugged to simply don’t care. The few that actually have a functioning brain will be useful while I gather information about the surrounding area. One has already been questioned. From what she said, a pony matching Carbon’s description registered for citizenship a few weeks ago. Once I’ve finished this recording, I’ll be going through town to see if is still here. I’ll report in when I have more information”.

The recording ended, and the image of Hatchet disappeared from sight.

I stood silent for a moment, not knowing what exactly to say. I’d just seen the pony who’d taken my family, and yet he was still so far away. This holotape had given me a few answers, but even more questions. While my family’s location was the biggest one, the one I felt most relevant was:

“He’s working for TSIM,” I floated the holotape out of my back and in front of my face. “But why? I thought synths did all of their dirty work”.

“Synths can’t do everything a pony can,” replied Cyborg. “Sometimes TSIM hires ponies from the wasteland to do tasks for them. Hatchet must be their latest one”.

Cyborg ignited his own horn, pulling the holotape out of my grip. He floated it in front of his face, and I saw his eye zooming in and out. From what I’d see before, I guessed he must have been analyzing it. Of course this just added to my list of questions: what else could that thing do?

“DNA strands on this haven't decayed too much. I say this was last touched three weeks ago,” he looked over at me, "the mare was right".

“That's not important right now," I said with a huff. "We still don't know where Hatchet went next!”

“Maybe not,” said Cyborg. He pointed at the table, and it was only when I looked did I remember the second holotape. “He might have recorded where he was going if he was leaving TSIM messages”.

“Only one way to find out”.

I picked up the holotape and inserted into my back. My horn sparked, and soon the hologram of Hatchet was once again standing in front of us.

“Hatchet reporting in with my findings. After scouring the town and asking everypony that can actually think, I can confirm that Carbon is not in the area. However, my “questioning” of the Escort Center’s manager revealed that a pony matching his description purchased an escort through Raider County. And the same pony confirmed that Carbon arrived at Tunnel 11 at the other end. Therefore, I will be moving on to Tunnel 11 as soon as my lacky arrives from another job. I will transmit my location once I’ve secured a new base of operation. After which I will await further orders”.

The hologram ended, and the holotape popped out of the slot on my back. I turned to Cyborg, and his look told me we were thinking the same thing.

Hatchet had gone through Raider County, to a place called Tunnel 11. But that meant that we were getting closer to finding him. He was probably just a few days away.

However, there was still one problem: he’d gone through Raider County. And if we wanted to get to him, we’d have to as well.

Cyborg broke the silence. “Well we know where he’s going, and I have a feeling you still want to go after him”.

“I’m not giving up now,” I said as I placed the holotape back on the table. “He’s so close: we just have to go through Raider County. If he can do it, so can we”.

“But you should also remember this: he’s a hired gun. He’s probably had his entire life to hone his skills. And he’s likely got TSIM technology on his side”. Cyborg walked up to me, placing a hoof on my shoulder. “He’s a killer, through and through. I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked through there and they made him their leader. Raiders aren’t like normal ponies”.

I snorted, then moved his hoof of my shoulder. “I could tell that from the name. And I don’t care if he is there leader or their slave. He still my #1 priority until I get my family back”.

I turned and looked him in the eye. “The only question I have now is this: are you still with me?”

Cyborg nodded. “Of course. I’m not backing down now. I’m just reminding you of what we’re getting into”.

“Noted,” I said before turning to the stairs. “Now come on, we need to head out as soon as possible”.

“Wait,” said Cyborg, holding me back with his magic. “Before we go running into one of the most dangerous places this side of Balitmare, we should come up with a plan”.

“I already have a plan,” I said with a grin. “And it starts at the Escort Offices”.

We made quick work of putting the house back the way it was before we entered. Though the broken lock was something the next tenant would have to worry about. Still, I felt it was best to cover our tracks: for all we knew TSIM hadn’t retrieved the holotapes yet. And we didn’t want them knowing we were after Hatchet. Any warning could lead to him disappearing forever.

After everything was in order, we made our way back up to the offices. Along the way, I briefed Cyborg on the plan I had. It was simple, yet riddled with problems if things didn’t go right.

The plan was to simply get an escort through Raider County to Tunnel 11. Hatchet had said that a pony named Carbon had gotten one and arrived there safely. So I figured we could get one as well; it would save us on having to find our way through ourselves.

Cyborg, unsurprisingly, was a little skeptical of the whole thing. He went on for a few minutes talking about how we should still gather supplies and make sure we’re well prepared...etc. I saw where he was coming from, and decided that we’d make a proper decision after talking with the Escort Office.

When we finally did arrive back at the building, the mare at the citizenship desk only gave us a small wave. We both rolled our eyes, then headed up the stairs to the floor above.

The second floor was much smaller than the area below it. To the right of the stairs were three doors, each labeled with a number. In front of them was a large wooden desk, atop which sat an old terminal, a busted lamp, and some stained paper. A set of hooves sat at the edge, and were attached to a stallion sitting in the chair behind it. He was a purple earth pony. He wore a black vest, and a stetson sat atop his head. It was currently pulled over his face: a classic sign that he was sleeping.

“I was expecting something….bigger,” said Cyborg.

“Maybe more professional?”

The two of us walked over to the desk, observing the rest of the room as we did. A few old posters sat on the wall. The one that was the least deteriorated sat behind the stallion. It depicted a pony wearing a suit of power armor. Written across the image was: SUPPORT THE MINISTRY OF WARTIME TECHNOLOGY! BUILDING A BETTER DEFENSE FOR EQUESTRIA!

I looked down at the stallion before poking him slightly. “Uh, hello”.

The stallion groaned slightly. He raised his hoof and moved his stetson out of his line of sight. Now I had a clear view of his face….it wasn’t exactly happy. His eyes looked over me and then Cyborg.

“Hm...newcomers. Let me guess: you want an escort through Raider County”.

“That’s right,” I replied with a smile. “We’re looking for a pony and….”

“Stop,” said the stallion, holding up a hoof. “I don’t need your reasons, I only need your payment. The cost is 500 caps per pony”.

“500 caps,” shouted Cyborg!

“Yep,” replied the stallion. “Covers escort, supplies, and a small fee for putting my life on the line to get you across”.

Cyborg grabbed me with magic and pulled me back beside him. He turned our heads so the stallion couldn’t hear what we were saying.

“Garcon, we don’t have 1,000 caps. And even if we did, it isn’t worth it. We’re basically paying the guy to lead us along an already set path”.

“But you said yourself: the place is filled with raiders. Do you really want to go into a place filled with ponies who want to eat us?”

Cyborg snorted. “Not all raiders are cannibals. And if we can hold our own against synths, raiders shouldn’t be too hard”.

“Still, I’d rather just pay the stallion. A guide is still safer than going out on our own!”

“But I told you,” he said huffing, “we don’t have the money. And I don’t think he’s willing to bargain”.

Well there was only one way to find out. I turned to the stallion and asked “any chance you’d take less caps”?

The stallion gave me an evil eye, “my prices are non-negotiable”.

Cyborg trotted up to the desk, looking the stallion dead in the eye. “Then you should really rethink your business practices”. He turned towards me, “come on Garcon, we don’t need him”.

Cyborg turned towards the stairs, but he didn’t make it far. I’d finally had enough of his stubborn attitude, and now it was his turn to be stopped. I grabbed him with my magic and sat him down next to me.

“Stay,” I said, like a pony would command a dog. Cyborg snarled, but I ignored it and turned my attention back to the stallion. “Look sir, we don’t have 1,000 caps to spend. However, we do need to get through Raider County safely. So,” I levitated our jar of caps out in front of me, “what would it cost you for information about crossing it safely?”

The stallion eyed the jar; he clearly was interested. I just hoped that he had information to give. And even if he did, that it wasn’t too expensive to squeeze out of him.

“Hm, alright. Maybe I do know something that can help you”. He held out his hoof, “fifty caps, and that information is yours”.

I counted out fifty caps and placed them on his hoof. He counted them himself, then slipped them into his vest pocket. “You ponies aren’t the first group to think my prices are too high. The last group who thought so decided to head through the place themselves. Started asking ponies to join their group: more ponies equals better protection”.

He leaned back in his chair, pulling his hat over his face. “From what I hear they’re still in town. You can find them in the last building before the gates that lead out of town. If you want to get through for a cheaper price, I’d suggest talking to them”.

If there was any doubt that me and Cyborg could get through Raider County without an escort before, it was gone now.

There were actually ponies out there banding together to make lives easier for themselves. There was an example of it right here in town, and I was eager to join in. You really needed times like this to take your mind off the many, many ways the Wasteland seems to fuck with you.

“Thank you,” I said before turning to Cyborg. “See, don’t make rash decisions when a slower approach can lead to a better one”.

Cyborg rose from the floor, “alright, let’s just go and see if these ponies can even handle themselves. We can’t be responsible for taking care of them and ourselves”.

After Cyborg calmed down, we left the offices and made our way back up to the top of the dam.

Along the way, I began to think over what we were doing. I knew I was the one who suggested finding another way to get through Raider County, but I didn’t know if this was the right way. It was our only option for sure, but as for the best option….I wasn’t sure. We didn’t even know these ponies: would they even want to know us?

Unfortunately I didn’t have much time to think about this. After a few minutes of walking, we found ourselves at the other end of town. A large metal gate stood before us, with another pony in armor standing on a walkway above it. Part of the gate was wired, giving me a view of the bridge on the other side. It was metal: built in the same manor as the suspension bridges in Manehattan.

After taking in the view, we turned to the building to our left. It was a small hut, much like the others that stood at the dam’s top level. But this one stood out from the others: attached to the top of the door was a sign that read Discount Escort! Ponies Needed! A large cart sat outside, filled with some old crates.

“Looks like the place,” I said as I trotted over to the door. Cyborg followed alongside me. Remembering my programing about manners, I knocked on the door thrice before standing back. A moment later, the door opened and a yellow coated mare stepped into view. She wore old body armor, beneath which sat a battle-saddle. Her face was covered in dust, but she still managed to smile: the first real one I’d seen in town.

“Hello, can I help you?” Even her tone of voice just made you want to give her a hug.

“Yes,” I said politely, “we heard you’re looking for ponies to make a journey through Raider County”.

The mare’s smile grew. “Oh, yes we are. Are both of you in need of an escort?”

I nodded. The mare giggled happily. “Oh that’s terrific! We’ve been waiting for more ponies to show up. Please come inside!”

The mare moved aside, giving me and Cyborg space to walk in. I looked around the room, and noticed that it was much larger than it seemed on the outside. The far wall was lined by three bunk beds, with all but two of the beds being occupied. Two ponies (both mares) were sleeping, while the other two (mare and a stallion) were in the middle of a game of chess.

A table and six chairs sat to the left, with a stallion sitting in one of them. He held a long shotgun in on hoof, using the other to gently polish it. He paused when we walked in, then did another quick wipe before placing it on the table. He got up, stretched, and walked towards us.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A few ponies looking to join our little group through a certain hellhole?”

“That’s right Eastwood,” said the mare, gently shutting the door behind us. “And that makes eight. So, we can head out now right?”

Eastwood narrowed his eyes as he turned to look at Cyborg and me. From the look alone I could tell he was observing us: or maybe judging was a better word. Neither of us moved; he didn’t look like the kind of pony to take chances with.

“Hm, I’m not sure Sunny. We need ponies who can hold their own: how do we know these two won’t end up Raider Chow?”

So this pony wanted to know if we could defend ourselves? I could understand his concern: deadweight would only slow them down and make it more likely to get killed. Still, that didn’t mean I wasn’t ready to prove what I’d done.

“We can handle ourselves,” I responded confidently. “We’ve both faced ghouls, slavers, synths, robobrains, and even an assultron. Trust me, we know how to fight”.

Eastwood grinned. “If that’s true, I wonder why you’d even need us. Seems like you could get through without any help”.

“While someone would think that,” I said, glancing over at Cyborg. He rolled his eyes and snorted. “I believe that it’s best to travel with a group. Less likely that something will happen when multiple ponies are watching each-other’s backs”.

“Ha,” laughed Eastwood, “finally, a stallion with the same thoughts as me! Everypony else here kept telling me we were fine with six ponies. But I wanted eight: not too many and not too small”.

Sunny’s grin turned into a pouty frown. “Well we have eight ponies now. So can we finally leave: I’m getting sick of this town!”

“Keep your horseshoes on Sunny,” replied Eastwood. “It’s too late to leave now. We’ll take inventory, get some rest, and head out first thing in the morning”.

He turned back to the two of us, “now there’s still the issue with payment. Our price is twenty-five caps per pony, but if you don’t have that much we can bargain. Just remember this: you supply your own supplies. Everypony here does, so you do too”.

“Noted,” said Cyborg. He counted out fifty caps and handed them to the stallion. “We already have our supplies anyway”.

“Good,” said Eastwood. “Now since we’re going to be traveling together for at least a day and a half, you might as well know who you’re traveling with”.

He held a hoof up to his chest, beaming brightly. “Names Eastwood. Used to be a courier in the Las Pegasus area a few years ago, till some caravan company took all the business”.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Cyborg.

Eastwood waved a hoof dismissively. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’ve earned enough to keep me going for a while”. He nodded towards the mare next to me. “That there is Sunny: been traveling together for over a year now”.

“Wow, that’s long,” said Cyborg, “what were you doing before then?”

Sunny smiled. “I was working for a pony who, well, ran a questionable business. Eastwood came by and told me he was heading to Baltimare to find work. Figured it was my chance to find a better life for myself, so I joined him”.

“What do you mean by ‘questionable business’,” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sunny grimaced. “I...I really don’t want to talk about it. It’s not something I’m very proud of”.

“Now Sunny,” said Eastwood, “we don’t keep secrets in this group. Spill the beans”.

Sunny sighed. “Okay. To say it bluntly, I was a prostitue. Or at least was working to be one. My boss hired mares down on their luck and trained them to have skills that most other prostitues didn’t. I was almost ready to start work, but then Eastwood arrived”.

I gave Eastwood a sly look. “And what were you doing there?”

Eastwood huffed, “don’t get any ideas varmit. I was delivering a package: Sunny met me at the door and took me to her boss. Had me wait until he saw everything was where it should be. Me and Sunny started talking, and when I heard about her situation, I offered to take her with me”.

“And I couldn’t refuse,” said Sunny. “I told my boss I was leaving, then left with Eastwood”.

“He didn’t care that you left?”

“Naw, he had so many mares working for him. Didn’t bother him if one decided they didn’t want to fuck for a living: one less flank to pay”.

“I think you made a great decision,” I replied with a smile. “Nopony should have to submit themselves to that kind of work”.

“Well said,” replied Eastwood. He turned and pointed to the four ponies behind him. “Those four are also traveling with us. Just know, they don’t like talking too much. Like to keep to themselves and all that, so don’t feel insulted if they don’t talk back when you talk to them”.

“What’s there story,” I asked?

“From what they’ve told me, they’re former slaves. Escaped from Fillydelphia about eight months ago. Ran as far south as they could until the slavers chasing them gave up. Now they’re heading to Baltimare: say there’s a place for escaped slaves somewhere near the city”.

“Impressive,” said Cyborg. “I don’t know many slaves that can claim they’ve escaped Fillydelphia”.

I looked at the two of them with some confusion. “What’s wrong with Fillydephia”?

Eastwood looked shocked. “How do you not know about Fillydelphia? You fresh out of the stables or something?”

To some extent I was, but I wasn’t about to say that. From memory Fillydelphia had been a major city before the war. It had produced most of the weapons and armor that Equestria had used to battle the Zebra Empire. I had figured that the city had been destroyed during the war, but I guess I was wrong.

“Garcon, remember those slavers we dealt with a few days ago? And how they worked for a stallion named Red Eye?”

“Yeah”.

“Well Red Eye is the one who rules over Fillydelphia. He uses slaves to work in his factories to produce armor and weapons for his army. They’ve been spreading through Equestria for a while now. He keeps saying that he’s rebuilding the world as it once was, but most (including myself) think it’s just bullshit”.

Most ponies, when told about somepony like that, would think “he’s evil! Using slaves to make weapons for an army!” But for some reason, I actually felt a glimmer of hope. There was a pony out there working to rebuild Equestria, to make the world better again. Was it wrong to use slaves, of course. But maybe, one day, he wouldn’t have to use slaves anymore. It was a slim hope, but I decided to hang onto it.

“Now that history lesson’s over, it’s time to get the final bit of business”. Eastwood leaned in closer to the two of us. “We’ve told you our stories, now you need to be upfront with us. No secrets here: we don’t judge”.

Great, now I was being put on the spot again. Could I really trust these ponies not to instantly shoot at me if I told them the truth? Would they just think I’m a synth, even though I’m just similar in build?

Still, they had been straight with the two of us. Escaped slaves, prostitutes, it was nothing compared to what I was. But I had to remind myself: if I was alway scared to tell the truth, I wouldn’t know who to trust. So, I decided to go for it.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “My name is Garcon. First things first: I’m not a pony. I’m a robotic butler built before the war”. I used my magic to pull part of my torn skin away, showing off the mechanics underneath. “I’m not a synth, I swear. I’m just a robot trying to get to Baltimare”.

Eastwood and Sunny stood silent and still for a few seconds. Their faces said it all: confused, scared, angry, maybe even a bit of sorrow. I just stood there the whole time, not making a single move or sound.

Eventually, Eastwood let out a deep breath as he rubbed the back of his head. “Well, that’s something. Don’t think I’ve ever met a pony more open about something like this before”.

“You said no secrets,” I replied, “and I didn’t want you to find out when we were traveling. Best to get it out now, when I can better explain it”.

Eastwood nodded. “Well your blunt honesty does help to prove what you say. And because of that, you have my trust….just do your best not to lose it”.

“I will”.

Eastwood turned to Cyborg. “And what about you? What’s your story?”

This I was actually interested in hearing: I actually knew very little about Cyborg. This might be my only chance to find out more about him.

“What’s to say,” he replied with a blank expression. “I was in an accident some time ago, and I lost a few limbs. Got these new ones, and I’ve been on my own ever since,” he looked over at me and let out a small grin, “that is, until I met Garcon”.

Eastwood nodded. “Well shit, I’m sorry to hear that. You have my sympathy”.

“Thank you, but I don’t need it. Sympathy to me is just ponies feeling sorry for me, and I don’t like those kinds of feelings”.

Eastwood looked a little taken back, but quickly shook it off.

“Alright, that’s it for the meet and greet. All that’s left is to get ourselves ready and head out in the morning”. He trotted over to the table, sat down in a chair, and began polishing his gun again. “Take a seat anywhere and relax for a while. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow”.

Sunny joined Eastwood at the table, pulled a small 10mm gun from her holster and began taking it apart. The ponies on the beds continued with there game, leaving me and Cyborg on our own.

I quickly noticed a small couch in the corner, and nodded my head towards it. Cyborg caught the gesture, and we each took a seat, placing our bags on the ground.

“You see,” I said grinning, “I knew this would be a good idea. We’ll have no trouble getting through Raider County with these ponies”.

“Yeah,” said Cyborg uncertainly. “I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the flanks”.

FOOTNOTE: LEVEL UP!

NEW PROGRAM: Detective - You’re the next Sherlock Hooves. Gain +2 to perception when looking for objects or secret stashes.

Quest Perk: Sweet Talk - When trying to Barter/Negotiate with somepony, gain +3 to Charisma and Barter. -1 Agility when moving.