//------------------------------// // Slave? No. Freedom! // Story: Fallout Equestria: The Wild West // by Tigerdovefan34 //------------------------------// The buzzer to my cell door rings, signifying the start of the day for me... for us all, I mean. Getting out of my cot that I always slept on in here, I stood in front of the door and waited for my guards to open it and bring me out. A few beeps and the door opened revealing my guards, both covered in SF-67 Battle Armor and with their SK-165 pistol in their holsters. "C'mon, slave. It's time that you work." One of them, a unicorn, said, pulling me out of my cell quickly using his magic. His friend pulled his pistol out on me as he put the shackles on my hooves and a lock around my midsection, keeping my wings restricted. 'Joy. Another day of having practically no control of my body other than to work. What fun! ' I thought dryly. The two guards nodded and together they brought me to my work station. A conveyor belt that was used in the mass production of weapons for my oppressors. The so-called Great Western Caliphate owned me and owned anything I made. I sighed and began to go to work, placing rounds in their casings and piecing together SK-165s whenever one came my way. That was my job and I have no choice. I refuse to work, I get beat, possibly be sent to the Mamur Aleabid and probably get worse punishment from him. I shuddered at the thought, remembering a poor young filly who refused to work one day. I still can see her bruises in my dreams. The mundane task that was my duty eventually just turned into robotic motions, just like I had done for the last 16 years of my life. For the next few hours I worked, every now and then touching red hot metal, but what could do but hold them with my bear hooves and dunk them in the water basket beside me, pain aching through my body as my hooves burned from the heat and my eyes sting from the steam. At least I wasn't working in the Armor department, those poor slaves were working with Liquid metal and, from what I have heard, many die every day. A loud Whistle removed me from my thoughts and I stopped my work. I knew what that meant. Every Guard and Slave did. It was 9 AM, 5 hours since I woke and time for Morning Prayer. The streets and paths that led to each place of Worship in our city were crowded not by civilian, but by slaves and their guards. That was expected, of course. Slaves had the industrial sector of the city, far from the civilian sector in order for a slave to not go rouge or whatever the excuse was. There was always a excuse. As I entered my place of worship, the guards took off my shackles and wingbrace before giving me a look that said 'you run and you're dead.' I rolled my eyes, as if I didn't already know that. I choose my rug and waited for the prophet to begin prayers. It was nothing much once it finished. The prophet spewed some BS lines about good and some other horse shit that no one truly cared about. After 30 minutes of such nonsense, prayers ended and we we're brought back to our jobs. Put round in casing, but butt on pistol, cool hot metal, Rinse and Repeat. Again, the whistle blew and we went toward afternoon prayer before we were allowed to have our food break. We were crowded into the industrial cafeteria, guards on the railings above pointing rifles at us, daring for us to start a rumble. All of us knew better. I got my tray and went down the lunch line with it, gathering the slob that I normally ate as I went along. The only good thing I was able to get was white calcium milk and even then I felt a little sick. You see, milk for us slaves doesn't come from a strange creature called a cow. It came from Slave skeletons that was grounded up with such energy that it became a liquid. I shook my head clear of the thoughts. I needed to feed myself lest I become to weak to work. Picking a table, I sat down and began to use my hood to bring the spoon with the food in it into my mouth. I was making good progress with my meal when a orange earth pony with blue eyes walked up to me and sat down to my side. "Hey, Shadow Flower. How are you?" He asked and I looked down. We both knew my answer and it wasn't fun. "That bad, huh?" "It wasn't bad per say, Steel. More uninteresting and nothing from the norm." I answered, giving a knowing glance to him. He chuckled and gave me a small peck on the nose, causing it to wrinkle. Steel Mustang had been my coltfriend for several years, always making me happier when I saw him during the lunch hours. Slaves weren't allowed to have relationships, but I was able to always sneak being in a relationship with him, mainly the lunch hour. "How's Onyx?" I asked him about my brother, Onyx Hooves. He was 7 years older than me and had known what life was like in the stable that we all lived in before we were enslaved. I have never seen him before but Steel had always told me things about him. "He's ok, sweet pea." He said, giving me a kiss on the muzzle before he looked left, then looked right before staring me dead in the eyes. "Baby, you know I want you to have the best life possible, right?" He asked me, giving me the most serious look he had ever had on his face. I nervously nodded and he continued, bringing out a double edged knife. "I'm going to start a riot today. Me and several friends agreed that today was the best day to do it. We want as many Slaves to be freed that time allows. It'll happen at 8:30. Be prepared to run as soon as I open your door. Take this with you. Once you're out of here, get as far away as possible then stab this into the back of your head and dig out the tracker there. After, continue to run. Just get as far from here as you can." He said, handing me the knife. "S-steel, you can't! If you do this then you can be easily caught and killed. Onyx wouldn't-" "Your brother was the one who convinced me to do this." He silenced me with the phrase. I finally agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and grabbed the knife, placing it in my pockets before going back to my meal and he did the same.. Soon lunch ended and we all returned to our work, I however could not sake what Steel had told me earlier. Throughout the rest of the final work period, nightly prayers and rest time, I had the thought of what would happen in the revolt. In Just an hour, the silence of the factory ended with an alarm blaring and several gunshots being heard. "ATTENTION: CODE BLACK IS IN PROGRESS!!! ALL GUARDS NEEDED TO QUELL SLAVE REVOLT!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!" The loudspeaker blared. I heard the clattering of my guards running from my cell to aid in quelling the revolt. I gulped as I stood up from my cot for perhaps, hopefully, the last time waiting for anything to happen on the other side. After a few minutes, the familiar beeping of my cell's unlocking codes had been sounded, followed by the familiar hiss of the door opening, Steel Mustang on the other side waiting for me. "We've done as much as we can. Go. Hurry, we won't be able to hold them for long." He stated, giving a sorrowful look in the eye. "Will we ever see one another ever again?" I asked gently and he gave me a kind kiss to calm me. "Maybe, Sugarplum. Just hope that you will see me again one day and maybe you will." He said, giving me a short hug before pushing me away, yelling, "NOW GO!" As he ran right back toward the revolt. No more delays. It was time to leave and I knew it deep down. Running for the Window that was only a few hoofsteps from my cell, I jumped clean through it and over the wall that surrounded my plant. As I landed, I felt a sickening CRUNCH on my left foreleg but I ran. I had to get as far from this place as possible. I shivered as the cold air of the night hit me, making me feel weak. Soon, the pain in my left foreleg forced me to stop. It was dislocated and I knew I could not do much of anything until it was reset. Placing it on a nearby rock, I placed all my weight on my foreleg and felt a sickening POP as it came back into place, forcing me to cry out loud from the pain. I had to do something else though. Something I knew I would never be able to live without. Taking out the knife Steel had given me, I raised my mane from behind and counted down from 10. Upon reaching 1, I stabbed my head opened and my hood began to dig for something solid. Finally, I felt what I needed to find and began to pull. The screeching pain made me cry out but I had to continue. After a few more pain filled seconds, I finally pulled out the tracker that had been in my head since I was a foal. I immediately threw it on the ground and ran for it. The farther I got from the tracker, the lesser the chance I could be returned to Slavery. After what felt like forever, I slowly began to lose consciousness. The last thing on my mind was how free I truly was in that Moment before I crashed to the ground, the exhaustion getting the better of me.