The bar in Sire’s Hollow was a nice place. The Sterling Cat was not just beneath the inn, it in fact was a single huge room that the inn had been built inside of, via lots of pillars and timber bracing.
It took me a few moments to realize the bar had been built inside a pre-war school’s gymnasium, on top of what had once been the basketball court. You really couldn't tell from the court itself. The floors had been worn down so much there wasn’t a lick of paint left on them. What clued me in was that the old mounting points for the nets had been used to mount the heads of a few monsters, and also what I hoped was an empty suit of Enclave power armor crucified on the scoreboard.
There was a good chance the armor still had its original wearer entombed within. The sight of the black, glossy, insect-like armor pinned to a wall by rusty railroad spikes driven through the boots and shoulders made me wince, which in turn made my diodes ache.
On one hoof, I knew exactly what they thought about the Enclave here in the Heartlands. On the other hoof, the armor’s helmet had a hoof-sized hole punched clean through it, and somepony had painted ‘No fight in bar, plz. Thank.’ on the armor’s breastplate in something which had dried a very distressing shade of reddish brown.
This brought into question whether or not the giant mutant bear with the splayed-out ribcage, large, stony-hide-covered wolf-like beast with an obviously broken neck, and stuffed arm of an ungodly large, terrifyingly muscular beast unlike anything I had ever been seen before had also caused problems in the bar. After all, they were also spiked to random parts of the walls almost like how old books showed championship pennants hung up in pre-war school gyms.
Regardless of everything else, it was comforting to know the Sterling Cat was the safest place in Equestria. This is probably why the bar was so busy in spite of the very limited menu. At least, that’s what Wander told me when she came back with our first round. The place was so packed I’d held a table while she placed our order, two of whatever they had to drink and a small plate of hayfries to treat herself.
Apparently they only had five meals and just two drinks. If you were to dine here you could have: hayfries (They came with everything. Even the drinks!), boiled cabbage bowls filled with mashed potatoes, a crumbly unleavened bread, some kind of stew which smelled amazing but looked like raw sewage, a big mushy mass of barley and oats served in a milky porridge, or a big slab of grilled meat only listed as the “Daughter’s Monster Catch of the Day”.
As far as drinks were concerned, Wander got us very, very strong, onyx-black beer which Wander told me was so bitter she wished we could swap tongues. I loved the beer. After three or four more pints and a big block of salt bought from a cooking supply store down the street, I was almost a third of the way back to a full tank of coolant. Foaming, salty, delicious beer coolant.
I flagged down one of the serving mares and asked them what the beer was. She flew over for a moment to explain that the barkeep learned the recipe for a griffon drink called kvass and decided to make it. Then, after deciding it was too weak, he distilled it and used the concentrated kvass in place of water for brewing beer with mutant yeast.
My dad would have loved the stallion for that.
”I love that stallion. Don’t mention this to your mother. She’d be upset about the misuse of bread that could be toast.”
Their other drink was a dull purple wine, which shimmered like the sheen you get atop meat just before it started to decay. It also had a very distressing scent, a combination of rotting fruit and freshly fertilized fields. I had no clue how Wander could knock back half a bottle of the vile stuff without vomiting. Maybe it was a ghoul thing.
Or maybe it tasted amazing. The wine seemed to not be quite as popular as the beer, given that I only saw Wander drinking it. The Cat was lit by only a few oil lamps scattered around the many tables. This made everything dim, which helped make everything feel cozy and private even though a hundred ponies were packed inside for their breakfast.
I knew the sun had to be up, but the old gymnasium lacked windows, preserving the dim atmosphere. The massive crystal lamps you’d expect in a gym’s ceiling were hidden by the Cat’s inn portion, a second and third floor built within the cavernous gymnasium ceiling. A good use for the aerial exercise section of an old gym.
Before we’d descended the stairs, I would have sworn the room we had been staying in was built before the war and repaired over time. That perhaps the intact parts of the inn had been salvaged from an apartment building, but no! It was all new construction. The ponies of Sire’s Hollow definitely took a lot of pride in their architecture.
It made me wonder just how new their wall must be, since it was little more than stray bits of timber framing plated with collected junk.
I also wondered if everypony in town came here for breakfast every day. There were at least a hundred ponies packed into the Sterling Cat, most of which had a plate of food, all of whom had at least one mug of beer or a glass of wine with their meal. It felt like this was a normal day for them.
Wander had fallen quiet again after swigging that wine, and seemed to want to eat fries and drink in peace. It left me little to do but look around the Cat’s dim interior and try to puzzle out what kind of town Sire’s Hollow was based on the ponies who lived here.
The table to my left had four ponies seated at it. They were huddled close to each other and talking nervously over their meal. The mare closest to me stood out for more than mere proximity. She was wearing a dusty-red suit of pre-war combat armor made with extra large, extra thick, rounded plates designed to deflect bullets. Big bullets. Even baby cannonfire, I’d wager.
The mare was wearing a historic relic. A mostly intact set of Macintosh Barding, the biggest, heaviest, most protective set of unpowered armor Equestria had ever produced. Any more weight, and even an Earth Pony couldn’t fight in all that metal.
To my surprise, the mare carrying all that backbreaking armor had a light SMG slung over her back, and a single throwing knife sheathed on her left foreleg. You’d think a pony in that much armor would get the heavy weapon as well, but that fell to the other pony at her table I could see clearly.
The pale emerald mare to her left had a battle saddle straped on over her weird looking jumpsuit, metal-circle studded white and gray leather and rubber. She had her saddle set up with a flamer on the left flank, and what looked like a repainted SkyTech PD-3 Pulse Rifle on her right!
Where was that mare and her compressed magical energy blaster last night?! Why had nopony bothered to wake her up and say “By the way, raiders with an Ultra-Sentinel are at the gate”. Or, you know, borrowed her very rare anti-armor energy weapon for a few minutes.
That thing would have been able to put the robot down in short order. Even if she’d painted it hot pink and written ‘buck you gently’ on the side in gold.
I stopped watching the two mares after managing to hear a few snippets of their conversation over the general buzz which permeated the Cat. Sire’s Hollow would be safe when I left. The mare with the Macintosh Barding was the captain of the town’s guard. Apparently the two of them had been out on road patrol last night and missed out on the firefight entirely.
Just. My. Luck.
The other ponies I could see were less well armed, but not by much. It was clear that the fight at their town’s gate was being taken seriously even by normal citizens. A dark orange earth pony off to my left was eating her breakfast with an old M60 leaning up against her table. The young stallion sitting across from her had a large revolver resting on the table. Judging by the leather and scrap-metal armor covering his body and his large dark gray stetson, he was fixing on being something of a cowpony.
That never works out well… I hoped he wasn’t her coltfriend or brother. Or they were going to go after the Tainted together, at the very least.
At least, that’s what I thought at first. Turns out everypony was armed. There was a light raspberry colored mare with a pair of three-headed flails, a stallion with a battle saddle jury rigged to hold a quartet of shotguns, a pegasus stallion who was attaching an old straight razor to an SMG as a bayonet…
I smiled to myself. Sire’s Hollow was pretty darn safe, if you asked me. Everypony I could see was not just ready to defend their home, they were actively planning how to do it while getting ready.
Wait…
Getting ready?
”Hon, maybe you should go top up on coolant,” Imaginary dad suggested right as I realized if they were preparing for battle, that meant a battle was probably about to be had.
Not wanting to alarm Wander too much I looked across the table and cleared my throat. “Hey, so… Everypony here seems to be ready for war, or getting ready for one.”
Wander nodded and levitated her bottle down onto the table. “Yeah. I noticed that too… I think they are just on edge about last night. Worried that the Tainted might try something again later today.”
I nodded slowly and flicked my tail. “That’s not exactly unlikely.”
Wander nodded. “Yeah… They know there’s a Water Talisman here all packed up and loaded on a cart. It’s basically gift wrapped.”
I looked down at my empty mug. “I uh… I think I’ll go top up on coolant now. Just in case.”
Wander sputtered, her eyes going wide at my simple statement. “What?! You’re not done?”
Her outburst made half a dozen ponies turn to look at us.
“N— No,” I said with a nervous smile.
“You had five pints of Dire Beer! How could that possibly not be enough?” Wander demanded, her jaw hanging open behind her scarf as she shook her head.
“W— Well, it’s not pure alcohol, there’s some water and body,” I explained with a stammer.
I wasn't quite sure if that’s something a pony might say in public. After all, the other ponies here must think I’m just a regular Zebra. Which was good!
“Soooo, there’s a lot of waste. I think this beer is only fifty percent, so I've really only had two and a half pints. I’ll need… Five more to be my usual self,” I corrected, finishing with an awkward smile.
Somepony at a nearby table dropped their mug. It made a rather loud thunk, but I couldn’t place exactly where the sound came from.
Wander took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Okay, but you buy this round.”
I nodded, remembering I had the voucher. “I’m sorry. I hope they weren't very expensive.”
“Nah. This place is cheap! But, I bought the first two rounds, so you buy the next two. That’s drinking game law between fr—” Wander said before flinching. “That’s right! Heads up. The barkeep is pretty intense!”
I nodded and pointed up to the crucified set of power armor.
Wander smiled slightly. “Yeah. I didn't need to say that.”
“Nope,” I said as I stood up and looked around for the bar.
The Cat’s bartop was rather conveniently situated along the wall to my back, which just so happened to be the closest one to our table. As packed as the Cat was, I was able to make my way through the dimly lit room to the bar almost as fast as I could have if I had been able to walk in a straight line. Unfortunately, all that got me was a place in a pretty long line of ponies waiting for their food.
It was odd to see so many ponies wearing clothes, just… To wear them. Back home, most ponies would not bother dressing except for a formal occasion. The Heartlands appears to be the opposite. I understood the third or so of the ponies who were wearing some form or armor or another, but the other two thirds were also fully dressed.
They made the line ahead of me into a riot of clashing colors. A first class fashion disaster train! Of course, it’s not like they had much choice in what to wear… But bare pony fur is so pretty on its own! Why cover it up trying to look nicer? It’s silly, if you ask me.
I was the only pony here who needed clothes. White with black stripes is pretty much visual white noise… Heck, it’s literally camouflage. I was, by design, not pretty. In fact, I was so plain I’d ideally just blend in anywhere.
The bar had been built from the roof of a bus, or some other truly lengthy vehicle. I could see just a bit of it, enough to see the ten big oil drums they used to hold the drinks on tap and two very busy serving mares helping to dispense each order as it came in.
The Sterling Cat’s team of serving mares had a uniform, of sorts. A little leather outfit consisting of a leather-strip skirt and sandals, with monster pelts vests. They were pretty cute…
Not wanting to feel even less pretty than I usually did, I decided to divert my attention away from them and to the small shortwave radio located on a shelf above the bar. It was surrounded by glass jars filled with various tinted mystery liquids, and playing some music.
I was able to enjoy the last few bars of a mare’s soft, quiet, vocal-only performance. I’d never heard her music before. She had a wonderful voice. A very distinctive voice. One you’d recognize if you’d ever heard it before. You’d remember that sweet voice for the rest of your life.
That mare had a special talent for singing. No doubt about it.
Just as I was about to ask the dusty peach stallion in front of me if he knew who the singer was, the song finished and a somber DJ’s voice answered my question.
“Good morning, children! We have a real mess to talk about today. That’s why I thought we’d start things off with some Velvet Remedy. To remind everypony that no matter how bad things get, there’s always something nice around the next corner.”
I winced. If there was bad news to report now, imagine what the poor DJ would have to play to compensate for Magebridge.
“And now… The news,” the DJ continued. “If you live in the northern NCR and ordered anything from Los Pegasus, don’t expect it to come in any time soon. Those rainbow clad raiders decided they weren't happy with murdering the occasional merchant and burning the odd caravan or two. Magebridge, my little ponies, is gone.”
I gasped and turned to stare directly at the radio. How the buck did he know?! Nopony could have traveled very far— OH! Of course, somepony had radioed the news into whatever organization he worked for and his boss gave him the report to read. Duh!
“By gone, I really mean ‘everypony living there was brutally murdered’. Stallions, mares, foals, all dead. All, except, a hooffull of NCR troopers, a caravaner, and two poor ponies who had to watch all their friends die…”
The DJ paused for a moment, taking a quick breath. I could hear the anger in his voice. “You know me. I bring you the truth, no matter how bad it hurts. I was asked to gloss over the details of the massacre. I’m not going to.
“You need to know that those rainbow raiders are not just an especially psychotic throwback gang of wastelander burnouts and psychos like the old days. I have a copy of the trooper’s own report right here. If they want to, the rainbow raiders can bring some really nasty toys to the table. Madgebridge was attacked by a group of fifty of them, all with that same flak-vest. They were supported by an ultra-sentinel, and lead by a horse in power armor.
“Yes. A horse. This sick bastard was taller than any alicorn you may have seen, but lacked a horn. He had his posse round up everypony in Madgebridge, announced they were all drafted into military service, then opened fire on the lot of them when some ponies refused.”
I heard the ponies around me begin to murmur to one another. I wanted to join them. He tried to conscript ponies into his gang? No… Draft. The DJ said draft. As if he had legal authority to do so.
Was someone trying a little nation building?
”Either they’re late to the party, or you’re right and somepony is up on their high horse.”
... Really, dad?
”Joke aside, sweetheart, there’s a real short list of who this might be. You need to get word to the queen.”
Oh… You’re right. I need to find a place to make a call from soon.
The DJ continued speaking. I missed a little as I strained to listen in on the broadcast through the sudden buzz in conversation.
“The rainbow raiders chased the survivors to Sire’s Hollow. Obviously, they survived, but the how of it is quite interesting! The gang’s leader left during the chase, but their death-robot stayed on the job. I’m sure everypony out there knows how dangerous one of those beasts is, especially in the dark. Fortunately for Sire’s Hollow, a zebra happened to be traveling to the town and arrived just in time for the party, because the party was her!
“Turns out this sentinel had a real problem with zeebs existing and focused on nothing else but smashing the poor mare into a pile of chunky paste. Don’t raise a glass to her memory yet folks, because here’s your first good news of the day. That mare, kicked, its, plot!”
I giggle-winced. Not as hard as it kicked mine…
“In the middle of a wild storm, this mare came down the road, opened fire on the raiders with her exotic energy rifle, and as soon as the mechanical monster noticed her, it focused everything it had on her. Let me tell you, our colts in brown say this zebra is a real professional. She blasted through its eye with a pistol and used that opening in the armor to fry that monster with a single well-placed shot of actual bucking lightning. Set the entire thing up while dancing around its shots and punches. She even moved so the robot’s stray shots wouldn’t hit anypony in town!
"The only thing that robot killed early this morning was a whole bunch of wheat. Thanks, mystery mare. I hope somepony over there buys you a drink!”
Oh, hey. Yeah! I had moved in a way which would make sure that didn’t happen. I did a nice on accident. Yay!
“Guys, look!” A mare shouted behind me.
Her voice held a mixture of excitement and urgency. I spun around, worried that a certain giant in flying power armor had just dropped into town.
Instead, I looked into the faces of about a dozen excited ponies.
I smiled faintly. “Uh, hi?”
The short dark scarlet unicorn mare at the forefront of the group pointed at me. “Is that you DJ Pon3’s talking about?” She asked.
”Oh no! Groupies,” Imaginary dad groaned. ”Hon, before you say yes, think about—”
I’m not a liar, dad!
I nodded and held out my hoof for her to shake. “Yes, that was me. My name is Whir—”
“You’re here for a drink, right?” A tall plum colored stallion in a leather duster asked just as eagerly.
I nodded again. “Yes. I—”
I was suddenly picked up by the unicorn mare’s bizarrely itchy magic and pulled along as the group pushed its way to the front of the line.
“Hero coming through!” The mare hollered.
“DJ Pon3 said somepony should buy her a drink, and he’s right!” The stallion added.
The ponies in line turned around, annoyed at first, but then to my amazement all nodded and stepped aside. Some even smiled. One even said thanks as I was carried by.
Everything melted into a single bizarre blur of… Praise. I had no idea what to do. None of the four-and-a-half books I’d read on social etiquette had anything about this! What do?!
”Take the drink, smile, be happy. These moments never last long, so drink fast and keep putting your mug down a little ways away from where you’re sitting.” Imaginary dad advised as I was set down in front of the bar.
“Conan!” The unicorn mare called loudly. “This is the zebra that stopped the bot this morning.”
I blinked and turned towards the bar. What kind of a barbaric name was Conan? Oh, that’s Griffon, isn’t it? Of course, the bar must be run by a grif—
The floorboards shook slightly. Once, twice, three times. Rythmicly. As if something colossal were walking towards me. My ears stood up in alarm, and then a monstrously huge Hellhound ducked out of the back room to stand behind the bar.
I had no choice but to look up at him. He was as big as a tree and built like a pile of steel bricks. I sometimes got to see the arctic bears when delivering mail to our northernmost settlements, and Conan made them look scrawny. The way his muscles rippled beneath his cornsilk fur was terrifying. Because you could see them. Under all that thick shaggy fur.
The Hellhound crossed the two meters from the back room door to the bar in a single step, then squatted down to rest his elbows atop the bar. The thick slab of metal groaned and buckled under his weight.
”... I could take him,” Imaginary dad said.
The buck you could!
“Drink? Food?” Conan grunted in passable Equish.
The thick, gravely, resonating Hellhound accented speech cast my mind back to the village of Jutlandver. Sure, Conan here was a good half meter taller than those Hellhounds, and his claws were a hoof longer, and he had a pair of swords bigger than me lashed to his back with a pair of dragonhide straps…
But, he’d once have been one of those tiny little floofs that had begged me for ‘stripy pone rides’! Aww, he’d have been so cute as a tiny little puppers!
That sucked all of the menace right out of Conan for me. I let myself relax and offered him my best polite smile.
“A drink, please,” I asked. “The strongest you have. The beer is wonderful, but I need something with more…”
I pursed my lips as I tried to think of a polite way to phrase my request.
“More bite,” I said as I settled on the word choice.
Conan nodded sagely, turned around, and delicately stepped into the back room, making the floor creak and groan again.
A dark mulberry stallion tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to him and asked, “Yes?”
“Uh, look, just take whatever he gives you to your table and I’ll bring you a couple beers. You wont… You know.” He made a wobbling gesture with his hoof I didn’t quite understand. “Survive.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve had stronger stuff,” I promised.
He winced and shook his head. “No. No you haven't.”
I decided not to tell the silly pony I regularly drink pure ethanol and waited for Conan to return. He came back within a minute, holding a large glass jar very delicately between his claws. The jar contained a pale orange liquid which had a rather noxious chemical scent to it, along with a hint of potatoes, roses, and something I couldn’t quite identify.
Conan set the jar on the counter with a grunt and smirked. “Strongest drink. Atop the den… If zeeb drink all.”
I picked up the jar and sniffed it. Whatever it was, it was almost entirely alcohol. Perfect!
“Thanks!” I said with a smile before fishing around my saddlebags for the block of salt I got earlier.
A few ponies murmured as I set the bar on the countertop. I wasn't paying attention to what they were saying, I was too happy to be a mere few moments away from not constantly cooking in my chassis. The dull ache in my left side was bad enough without being hot.
Gripping the jar with both forehooves I tipped it back and poured it down my throat in one single smooth motion. My tongue provided a breakdown of the drink for me. Chemically speaking it was 80% ethyl-alcohol, 5% assorted trace organic compounds, and 15% saturated hydrocarbons.
I decided to add it to my list of tasty things. It just felt like something that would taste good, and it was almost ideal for processing into coolant.
I set the jar down on the countertop and smiled at Conan. “Thanks!” I said, my ears perking up as I remembered I’d promised to get Wander another drink. “Can I have another?”
Conan barked out a laugh and nodded down at me, lips pulling back into a fanged smile. “Yes! Zeeb welcome in Cat. Any day, any night.”
He turned and vanished back into the back room to get another jar.
The unicorn mare who’d carried me to the counter shook herself as if emerging from a state of shock. “I— Y— Throw up right now! That stuff has kerosene in it!”
So that’s what that the additive was. Delicious! I licked my lips happily, seeking a bit more of the ‘taste’.
“I’ll be fine,” I promised her before picking up my salt block and taking a bite of it.
The buzz of conversation stopped. The crowd of ponies began to stare at me. A sea of eyes in every color of the rainbow. It unnerved me so much I almost missed Conan setting a second jar of moonshine on the counter top.
Almost, but not quite.
“Thank you,” I said as I took the jar and headed back to my table.
Ponies parted for me as I walked through them. They stared at me like I was some kind of… Something. I had no idea what they were being incredulous about. By the time I sat back down at Wander and my table, I was just getting a little weirded out by the townsponies stares and hushed whispers.
On the upside, I could feel my systems processing plenty of coolant! I might be topped up again after that one jar.
I sat back down at the table and offered Wander an apologetic smile.
“So uh… I got a drink on the house. Here’s yours,” I said as I passed her the second jar.
Wander frowned. “Hey, he told me there was only beer and wine on the menu! Not—” Her pale blue aura lifted the jar’s lid up so she could sniff out its contents.
Wander’s face grew even more pale as she got a whiff of the jar. Her eyes shrank, as if she were looking into the face of death herself. She put the lid back on the jar and looked up at me. “This is jet fuel.”
“So, you don’t want it?” I asked hopefully, raising a hoof to take it back and flicking my tail eagerly.
I may not have a real sense of taste, but my systems really liked this stuff. It was so easy to convert into coolant!
Wander’s ears drooped backwards. “W— Why did you use that tone of voice to ask that?”
“Can I have it?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah… Go ahead.”
I took the jar, opened it, and downed it in a few large gulps. The patrons’ shocked silence returned.
Wander joined them, staring at me in shock for several long moments before quietly muttering, “Shouldn’t have gotten into a drinking contest with a machine.”
I flashed her a quick hurt look then turned away to finish munching on my salt block.
“What did she say?” One of the security mares at the next table whispered.
“She said she shouldn't have gotten into a drinking contest with The Machine,” another whispered back.
“Must be her nickname,” somepony said sagely.
“Yeah, no shit!” Another whispered loudly. “You saw how she…”
The sound of munching on my salt block drowned out the incredulous whispers. I didn’t feel like correcting them and admitting I’d never had a nickname.
I was chewing on the last of my tasty sodium chloride crystals when somepony cleared their throat behind me, clearly asking for my attention. Wander looked up before I could turn around and nodded towards the mystery pony.
“Looks like the troopers from last night want to chat with you, Gears,” Wander said.
I turned around, doing my best not to look distressed. After all, if a soldier wanted to talk to me, it must be official business of some kind.
This was my first time seeing either pony without their masks. They both had their armor, dusters, and weapons on, as well as their helmets, but they had removed their masks. The sergeant was a really pretty dark violet, which went well with her glittery ultramarine eyes. Her mane, while messy and curly, was neatly trimmed and went well with her coat, being a two tone pattern of lilac and mulberry running through her curls.
Instant jealousy! Why couldn’t mom have at least let me have an equestrian style mane? Or even something other than a mohawk? Zebras can style our manes into more than a mohawk, mom! There’s dreadlocks, braids, waves…
”Focus, dear.”
Oh. Yes. Thanks, dad!
The unicorn stallion with her was good looking as well. He had a nice olive green coat, brown eyes, and a dark almost but not quite black mane. How appropriate for a soldier to come in camouflage colors!
Without his mask on, I was able to see that he had a nice chiseled jawline, and high cheekbones. I wondered if the rest of his body was as statuesque.
“Can I help you?” I asked the mare, since it looked like she had more rank stripes.
She nodded. “Sure can. May we sit down?”
I nodded and scooted over, wincing as my chair scraped against the floor and squeaked loudly. The two soldiers took seats at our table, setting down their bowls of mashed potatoes and beers. The mare immediately began talking as soon as she was seated.
“My name’s Onyx Castle, this is Open Bolt,” she introduced, pointing to herself then her sergeant. “For the sake of this conversation, we’re all civilians here. Got it?”
I tilted my head. “I’m not a soldier… But I gather you want to speak about something outside of any official connotations?”
“I have a hard time believing you're not a soldier, but yes,” Onyx said with a knowing smile.
“It’s true,” Wander said with a blank look on her face. “She’s a mail mare.”
Bolt snorted as he choked back a laugh that almost cost him a mouthful of beer. “Sure she is!”
“Bolt. Manners,” Onyx said coldly.
Bolt fell silent immediately, turning back to his potatoes.
Onyx cleared her throat. “Look, you pulled off something most ponies couldn’t. Soldier or not, you can handle yourself out there. Right now, my colts can’t. Bolt and I aren’t fit for duty. He’s got a hole in his left flank, and I’ve got some nasty energy burns. We could limp our way to Tenpony, but we need to stay here and make sure the rest of our squad recovers.”
I nodded and sat up in my chair. “I think I know where this is going. You have orders to return the Water Talisman to Tenpony, right?”
Onyx sighed and leaned back in her chair, making it creak. “Yeah… The brass don’t care that we’re almost dead. They want it secured as soon as possible. If the rainbow raiders want it bad enough to wipe out a town… It has to be someplace fortified. Tenpony’s the best place for it. But, we can’t move it.”
The mare turned towards me, her face filled halfway with admiration and half with trust. I wasn't sure how to feel about being given a look like that… All I’d done was barely survive stopping a war robot with tools meant for the job at hoof… Even if they weren’t working right in the rain. “I believe I can trust you. Would you be willing to do me a personal favor and deliver the talisman to the security chief at Tenpony Tower?”
Wander flashed them a look, then sighed.
I turned towards her and asked “Is there a problem with us going to Tenpony Tower?”
Wander nodded then sighed and shook her head. “No… And also yes. I— I have a history with the place. Can’t let anypony there see me… I— I knew we’d have to go there eventually. There’s an old club near the tower I can wait for you in. Also, they have a no ghoul policy.”
I made a mental note to ask what she’d done to be unwelcome at a town. That had to be a good story!
Onyx’s eyes widened in surprise. She turned and stared at Wander for a moment then shook her head. “Woah! I thought you were just half-starved! You’re a lucky mare, you know that?”
“I don’t get as lucky as you’d think,” Wander muttered to herself.
“I'd be happy to deliver the talisman for you,” I said clearing my throat as I put on my best business face. “I’m a Royal Courier, delivering the mail is my job, and that Water Talisman and I are heading the same way.”
Onyx turned back to me and raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you’re actually a mailmare?”
“Courier,” I corrected. “Mailmares distribute mail to homes. I take the mail between post offices, or deliver important packages directly to the recipient.”
I turned and opened my delivery saddle bag. “Since it's for the safety of your community, and I’m going that way already, I’ll take it at no charge,” I said as I held out my hoof to accept the Talisman.
Onyx hesitated for a moment then reached under her duster and handed me a small locked aluminum box with the NCR’s emblem painted on in in white via the use of a crude stencil. She placed the box into my hoof slowly, looking into my eyes the entire time to emphasize its importance.
“Be careful with this… Not only because my job’s on the line, but also because this is the only talisman we can spare. If it never gets to Two Bits, every ghoul left in the NCR will stay on their exported rad rations forever, and the Herd will get to keep waving their ‘NCR is anti-ghoul’ flag.”
I nodded in perfect understanding. With a talisman to create water and a big pit of irradiated rocks hauled in from the mountains mass production of Aqua Cura in Two Bits would be a breeze!
“It will be safe in my bag,” I promised. “Nopony other than myself, my boss, and Her Majesty can open this delivery bag, and they are a few weeks hike over mountains away.”
Onyx frowned slightly. “Are you implying you’re not from Equestria?”
“Well, technically no,” I admitted with a bashful flick of my ears. “The Crystal Empire was a crown colony… So, it was kind of its own nation, but also not really?”
I stowed the talisman away in my bag and locked the clasp. No way was I going to let something that important get stolen… Well, unless somepony took my whole bag. But at least they would never be able to get into it!
Unless they cut it open with magic...
Onyx and Bolt sat upright. Wander smirked, seemingly enjoying their reactions. “Yeah, turns out they survived and rebuilt up there. I’m helping her deliver diplomatic stuff. There’s a whole kingdom up there that wants to trade.”
Onyx looked over to Bolt, then turned her attention back to me. “Are you allowed to like, talk about that? Or are those docs eyes only?”
Of course a soldier would be interested in what could be a national security matter. I smiled apologetically and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I can't let anyone other than the recipient or a direct subordinate of theirs examine their mail. I can tell you that Her Majesty's standing offer is manufactured goods for food.”
Bolt nodded slowly. “It would be hard to grow food up in that ice box.”
I frowned as I realized how long it had been since I’d woken up. The dim light of the Sterling Cat had a timeless quality to it. It was almost time for me to go to the mayor’s office. I cleared my throat and bowed my head politely as I stood up. “Thank you for reminding me of my appointment with the Mayor. I need to go now. I’ll have somepony tell you the talisman is safely in the security chief’s hooves.”
Onyx nodded understandingly. “Just be sure to have DJ Pon3 make an announcement when you get there. That way the raiders will know the Water Talisman is back in a fortress and not a farm town that… That could become Magebridge part two if they have another ultra-sentinel.”
“Good idea,” I said with a nod before turning to Wander. “Meet me at the town gate in… Half an hour. We need to get the talisman away from here as fast as possible.”
Wander stood up and slipped her half-empty bottle of wine under her cloak. “Good idea. See you in a while.”
Onyx reached under her duster again and took out a small wooden card. It had a lot of writing on it in very fine print, but I could make out the words Contracted Delivery Writ in the middle of the card at a glance.
“Take this too. It’s a courrior’s pass. It will let Tenpony’s security team know you’re supposed to be let in there,” Onyx informed.
“Thank you,” I said taking the card from her and tucking it into my personal saddlebag. “I promise it will be safely in their hooves as soon as possible.”
“Hey, if The Machine delivers mail half as well as she kills war-bots, it will be there in an hour,” Onyx joked with a grin.
I smiled and shrugged, not really knowing what to say. For whatever reason, I settled on the one Griffon phrase I knew. “Ya mashina!”
I turned around and made my way through the dissipating crowd to the door. Hopefully this mayor wouldn’t be as bad as the last one.
Also, hopefully, somepony could tell me why I thought a random Griffon phrase was appropriate for this conversation. Or even where I’d picked it up to begin with...
☢★★◯★★☢
Five minutes later I arrived at Sire’s Hollow’s town hall. The hall was very close to the Sterling Cat, hardly a five minute walk. I’d spent most of the time cleaning myself up and quickly making my courior’s robes look presentable.
Sire’s Hollow was such a nice looking town. Every last building carefully repaired, or built to resemble the old world styling as closely as possible. The ponies here all dressed in what was presumably their best all day, presumably every day. Sire’s Hollow cared about appearances.
Sire’s Hollow cared about appearances a lot. Like, a lot a lot.
They had cobbled streets, and a pony sweeping them! I’d never even seen that kind of community decadence before.
So I’d taken the time to polish up my courior’s pin, comb my mane properly, wish I could style it into something without it just poofing back into my brushy mohawk in defiance of my will, physics, and common courtesy, and even borrowed a hot iron to quickly press my robes.
Sure, I didn’t look good enough for royalty, or even a Lord Mayor’s court, but at least I looked better than I had traipsing around the wasteland as I walked into the town hall.
I liked this town hall. Unlike the last one, this one had all the proper architectural flourishes you expected to see in an official building. The hall was built in a large rectangular building with a nice little courtyard containing two functional fountains. The hall itself had a lovely peaked roof with clay tiles, which made it stand out from the other buildings, which were all wooden slat roofed.
There was even a nice overhang supported by large decorative wooden pillars, big double doors with nice polished brass handles, and a freshly painted sign. It felt proper, it felt official, it felt old-world.
In a way, it perfectly symbolized the entirety of Sire’s Hollow. A desperate attempt to return to the way things had been before the war. A desperate attempt which had found a little success.
The hall’s interior was not as nicely decorated as the outside. The waiting room was fairly bare, with just a few benches to sit on and a small metal office desk for the secretary. I’d been hoping to see another alicorn, if only to help me refine my tallness hypothesis, but she was an earth pony.
A very old one. Her once ocher coat was nearly colorless, and her mane had turned a bright platinum in her old age. In spite of her venerable body, she was very energetic, welcoming me the second I came inside, walking me through the paperwork required to get an audience with the mayor as only a seasoned bureaucrat could, and even turning on the radio and bringing me a cup of tea while I waited for my appointment.
Unfortunately for Wander, I had a twenty minute wait… I was definitely going to take more than half an hour to finish this delivery. Fortunately for me, I was able to listen to music for most of the wait. Extra fortunately, that included another song by Velvet Remedy!
I’d have to see if anypony had her on holotape. Odonata would love to hear Velvet’s music. I’ll bet she could write the most amazing melody to go with the vocals.
So could Wander, come to think of it. Their skill level was almost the same, only Odonata preferred slower more classical styled music, and of course lacked Wander’s sound spells. I was starting to picture the distilled awesomeness a duet between Wander and Odonata would be when the music faded out and the same DJ from earlier cut in.
“Ladies and Gentlecolts, hold onto your hats, your coats, your plots, whatever you got because it’s time for some news!”
I blinked and turned to face the radio. A silly thing to do since it was a radio, not the stallion speaking through it, but it still felt like the right thing to do.
“I have an update for you on Stable 88, fresh from the airwaves. That’s right, you get to hear some of what’s going on there for yourself. You can thank a certain pony who won’t be named for providing today’s extra special newstime treat!” DJ Pon3 announced just a little too enthusiastically.
”What is this DJ’s show called? Exposition Express?” Imaginary dad chuckled from the back of my mind.
It seems like her reports on things almost as they happen. I agreed.
”Remember what I taught you about playing spy, dear.”
If it seems like magic, it’s probably not.
”Exactly. We’re probably looking at a news organization with a lot of little helpers.”
Maybe, just maybe, some sort of dedicated reporting network existed. If that was true, there would be a fortune to be made in two-way radios!
I focused my attention on the radio, wondering what might be so important that the DJ would call it a treat.
“Our mares in brown are still trying to make contact with the stable dwellers, and managed to get them to talk again. This time, they managed to record a bit of the Overmare’s saber-rattling. Now, don’t worry too much. Like I said before, these ponies let raiders in last time they opened up. Of course they’ll be worried about opening their doors again. Listen closely to the background. I’m sure you’ll hear it… If your ears are still good that is.”
The radio hissed for a moment, not with static, but with the warbled electronic clicking of holotape being aligned to the correct point to play back a file. Then, a quavering, high pitched, somewhat echoey mare’s voice came through.
“I am Overmare Platinum Vein. This is my vault. I am asking you nicely one more time to leave,” the mare’s voice hissed and crackled, as if the microphone she was using couldn’t quite pick up all of her voice. “My vault does not wish to have any contact with the outside world. I understand that we are located beneath your territory, but let’s be honest. You have no business underground. The skies and soil are yours. The stone beneath is mine.
“We do not need to trade. We do not wish to exchange cultural elements. I ask you now to please leave us in peace. Our Stable contains military training programs and Dream Chambers. We are not the same Stable we were when we last opened our doors. Many of our young ponies since then have chosen to use these chambers to become warriors. While antithetical to our values, they stand ready to defend our Stable with violence, if need be.”
A high pitched squeak assaulted my ears. For a moment I thought the radio broke, but then another different squeak answered the first one. The second one had an odd pitch modulation unlike anything a technical malfunction would produce. The squeak was recorded by the microphone…
Had the Overmare been attacked by a pair of giant mice? That would be so cool!
The Overmare’s voice came back, sadly not shrieking about an attack by giant mice people. “You need to repeat that in Outsider… I doubt they speak our language.”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am! Master Gunnery Sergeant Speed Run, reporting as requested, ma’am!” An excited and eager young mare’s voice instantly replaced.
“Can you tell them your qualifications and how you obtained them, Miss Run?”
“Yes, ma’am! I was promoted via the Dream system’s automated merit system, rank by rank, via completing all available special training dream sequences, ma’am! I have completed training programs for, and qualified as a: Pathfinder, Sniper, Artillery Crewmare, Cavalry Forces, Special Forces, MoA Ops, Basic Recon, Pararescue, Counter-Magic Operations, Infantry, Mobile Infantry, Asymmetric Warfare operations, Combat Engineering, Aquatic Operations, Avionic Operations, Armored Cavalry, Power Armor training, all twenty two available CQC courses, and Shock Trooper training! I also passed the program to be transferred to Star Drop HQ for further training… But uh… I can’t do that training remotely. And it’s not like anypony will come by to pick me up to go do it... Sorry, Overmare! I’ve done everything I can do.”
”Luna’s engorged tits!” Imaginary dad sputtered.
What?
”Well, for starters, if she did all of that, she’s done nothing but train for war her entire life. Secondly, if those Dream Chambers are working correctly, she’d be the deadliest mare I’ve ever heard of!”
“And why did you do all of that?” The Overmare asked.
“It’s fun! Besides, mom told me if I was going to get access to the military programs I should learn all I could. Which is everything available, obviously. Also it really helped me dominate the Omen leaderboards!” Speed answered matter of factly.
“And if I asked you to go into the tunnel and remove the trespassers, would you?” The Overmare asked while the other pony beat-boxed out a rather energetic tune.
“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” She exclaimed, immediately stopping her rendition. Whatever that song had been.
The Overmare’s tone shifted, becoming a little sinister, but only enough to indicate she was showing a card she didn’t really intend to play. Her Majesty used that same tone enough for me to recognise it. “Would you feel bad about killing anypony who didn’t retreat from your assault?”
“Of course not,” Speed said with terrifying honesty... And a whole heap of confusion. “Why would you ask that? I know my file mentions— Oh! They don’t know! Duh! Sorry, ma’am!”
I felt the fur on the back of my neck stand up. There was no way to take Speed’s reply as anything other than ‘I’m a psychopath’.
“If you don’t fall back fifty meters up the tunnel, I will send Speed and a squad of ponies like her out the door,” the Overmare said with chilling honesty.
“Uh, ma’am? I mean, sure, I could take care of them myself, but why lie about there being other sold—”
The recording abruptly cut off with a sharp click. Then with a hiss, DJ Pon3 returned. “Did you hear that, children? That squeaking in the middle there? If you’ve ever had the rare chance of bumping into a certain Canterlot Ghoul who used to be a part of the Lunar Guard, you might recognise that as… A language! Thestril, specifically. To them, and forgive my accent, it’s called Eeee. Yes, like the letter.
“Now, I don’t speak it, because I can’t speak it. Heck, nopony can. At least, nopony who doesn't happen to be a subterranean pegasus, or a mutant. If you’re listening to us, Overmare Platinum, things up here aren't so good. You know that well enough. We’re trying to rebuild, we’re doing a good job, but there’s still a lot of work for soldiers to do. Maybe you don’t need anything from us, but if your great-great-grandparents could see you, do you think they would be happy with you letting Equestria suffer when you could lend a hoof?
“And now, some music,” DJ Pon3 concluded as the radio faded in a rather rousing patriotic rendition of the old Equestrian Solar Anthem.
I smiled. I see what you did there, DJ. Maybe it will work, Celestia willing. Or Luna willing, in this case.
The radio clicked off. I looked up to see Bluegrass, dressed in old, well worn, but clean silk vest with a bright red tie. He’d just flicked the radio off. “Nice to see you again, Miss Gears,” he greeted.
I smiled. “Hello! Is the mayor ready to see me yet?”
Bluegrass blinked, closed his eyes, and visibly resisted facehooving. He gestured to the secretary, and that’s when I realized I was a complete idiot.
“Mister Bluegrass is currently serving his third term as our mare, Miss Gears,” she informed.
I blushed brightly. “I… I realized it… As I said… Yeah…”
My ears drooped down as far as their servos allowed. It didn’t feel like they permitted enough droop. A clear design flaw…
Bluegrass chuckled. “It’s alright. You did take that rather nasty hit. I’m certain you'll be a little out of it for at least the rest of the day. Come on in,” he said as he turned and walked through a door not into a hallway, but directly into his office.
I trotted after him into a very clean and functional office. Much like the waiting room, the decor was as austere as could be. I frowned, not understanding why the mayor's office wouldn’t be the town’s best hoof forward for visiting dignitaries, when it hit me.
That was why Sire’s Hollow was so well repaired. It was a statement. A way to say “This pony isn’t important. The town is what you need to care about. This pony merely represents it.”
Brilliant!
Bluegrass trotted around his slightly rusted, dented, and scuffed old salvaged office desk and took a seat in a creaky old wooden chair. He gestured to the stool across from his desk, and I took a seat on it.
As soon as I sat down, Bluegrass chuckled and flashed a playful smirk in my direction. “Well,” he intoned. “Fancy seeing you here! I sure hope you don’t mind me listening into my own conversation. Boy, think of all the time we could have saved… No, scratch that. I needed the nap.”
I groaned, facehooved, and realized I must never let him know I thought he was the mayor’s husband. “Sorry… I—”
He raised his hoof to tell me to stop. “No need for that, miss. I’m only teasing. I find it’s best to start these things off informally,” he explained as he leaned back in his seat. “That said, I’d like to thank you on behalf of Sire’s Hollow for your help this morning. Half my security force was off chasing down a criminal who’d stolen our town’s set of power armor. Without your guns, I can’t tell ya how many ponies we’d be burying.”
I nodded solemnly. “I may not be a soldier, but dad taught me to help if I can.”
Bluegrass nodded solemnly. “He sounds like a wise zebra.”
“Pony,” I corrected.
“Adopted?”
“Yes,” I said with a proud smile.
“Well, I’m still mighty interested in those guns of yours,” Bluegrass admitted. “I got a good look at them this morning, and seeing as how matrix-tech is something of a hobby of mine, I’d like to know what those are.”
“Of course,” I replied politely, glad he was making conversation to move us away from my lapse of wit. “These are LAERs. Uh, sorry, Laser Assisted Electro-Rifles.”
Bluegrass’ eyes focused in on my saddle’s remaining LAER “Lasers assist what now?”
“Think of them as a laser pointer that guides lightning bolts into your target,” I said after a moment’s thought. “It’s weaponized pegasus magic. Like how laser weapons are weaponized unicorn magic, and plasma is a weaponized version of the charm in old toasters.”
“Oh!” Bluegrass said with a smile. “An ionized electro-static weapon? I thought those only existed on airships.”
“Yes! We were able to miniaturize them. I wrote a paper for school on—” I blushed and kicked my rear hooves slightly. There was no need to nerd out on the job. Sadly.
“Sorry. I’m getting off topic. I am afraid I can’t sell you these particular ones, but I can certainly ensure you get a few in trade. They are very effective against robots and ponies in power armor. They’re best suited to emplacements where they can be powered directly.”
Bluegrass nodded sagely. “I reckon they would be effective against any sort of matrix tech. Well, if it wasn't’ hardened.”
“Even if it’s hardened,” I corrected. “Well, assuming you can find a ‘hole’ in the armor. That’s how I took down the sentinel.”
“Good thinking. May I ask what your pistol is for? Organic targets?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s for ammunition capacity. LAERs are pretty power hungry. I can drain their power cells really quickly if I’m not careful.”
Bluegrass hummed and looked me over. I gathered he was using this conversation to get a better picture of what kind of a person I was. “Then your pistol is basically a spare energy cell?”
“No. It’s a recharger pistol. It belonged to my father,” I explained.
Bluegrass shook his head slowly. “You’ve got a lot of high-end tech on display there miss. I don't blame you for packing that much firepower to visit the NCR one bit, but it’s still quite the sight to see a little mare carrying that much of a punch with her.”
I put a hoof over my mouth to stifle a laugh. “My dad would come back from the grave and lecture me for days if I didn’t.”
”Damn straight.”
Bluegrass chuckled and shook his head, smiling wistfully smile. “Sounds like you were raised by a good father. Celestia knows the wasteland is… Especially hard on mares. I’m just glad you’re here now and not fourteen years ago. The old wave of raiders were a plague,” he shifted in his seat and leaned towards me. “I don't’ suppose there’s a chance you’d part with the broken rifle, is there? I may be able to repair it. Our town could use a good anti-robot defense.”
I shook my head firmly. “I’m sorry, but no. It’s not mine to sell, I was issued them for my mission.”
“Mission?” Bluegrass frowned, seemingly genuinely confused for a split second before nodding to himself. “Ah! Of course. A Queen gave you an errand to run. I suppose I’d call that a mission too, in my youth. Would you please give me the details as if I knew nothing about you or your mission? I’d like the full story, as it were.”
I nodded, fully understanding the need to make things crystal clear for a poor pony who was short on sleep.
“Of course I will, sir,” I said with a polite bow as I shifted into full formal mode. “I represent the Kingdom of Lith, who has recently become aware of organized nationstates in the Equestrian Heartland and wishes to initiate diplomatic relations for the purpose of facilitating trade. We are capable of manufacturing limited quantities of industrial goods thanks to our skilled artisans and technicians, and can also provide infrastructure-related assistance to you and your community. For example, if you would like LAERs, we can manufacture them and I am certain my Queen is not above selling arms to a community under threat by bandits.”
Bluegrass hummed at me uncertainty.
“You can manufacture energy weapons? Are you joking?” Bluegrass asked with a mostly blank look accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “There’s an old saying about things that look too good to be true… Then again, there’s also the old saying about refusing unexpected generosity.”
I shook my head firmly and opened my bag to take out one of the letters and a radio. “I am not joking, sir,” I said as I set both items on his desk. “I have here a radio and instructions for contacting her Majesty for the purposes of arranging diplomatic meetings. In order to avoid the distrust I was shown by the previous mayor I presented with this offer, please inspect the radio. Feel free to remove the casing.”
Bluegrass stood up, trotted over to a coat rack in the corner of his office where his tool-studded vest hung, and brought it over to his desk. I watched as he quickly examined the small radio’s metal housing, located the four screws holding the cover on, and with expert speed opened the radio’s case.
He bent over the radio for several long moments, turning it this way and that as he examined the interior component by component. I knew he was an expert in pre-war technology, which meant it would be blindingly obvious to him that this radio hadn’t been built back then.
“No logos… No manufacturing marks… Hoof and mouth tool marks. Hoof done solder,” Bluegrass nodded to himself and set the radio’s cover back atop it. “This radio was definitely made post-war, and while not on an assembly line it’s clearly a standardized design. Well done! Though I am afraid there is little market for luxury goods like this in Equestria these days.”
I smiled across the desk and nodded to the radio. “Her majesty can offer more than radios, sir. However, radios such as these are not luxury items, sir. You have mass broadcasting capabilities, your soldiers use them. Certainly it’s a good idea to have a means of replacing lost and or damaged radios?”
Bluegrass gave me a proud look, like the ones dad used to give me when I did something especially well.
“It is! That was a test, miss Gears,” he said while playing with his screwdriver in his hooves, turning it this way and that at random. “If you were here merely offering luxury, there’s nothing I would be willing to accept… Luxury is a Tenpony thing. Here, we value practicality. What can you provide in the way of infrastructure, tools, weapons, armor, and so on?”
YES! He was taking me seriously! Let’s finish the sell so he calls Her Majesty soon.
“Plenty!” I exclaimed with a wide smile. “We have a Corps of Engineers as well as craftsponies. We can offer infrastructure projects and the skilled labor to perform them in addition to manufactured goods. All of our settlements have power, water, heat, and environmental protection. ”
Bluegrass looked at me in shock. His screwdriver clattered across his desk as it fell from his grasp. “You have power? How?”
“We constructed power plants,” I answered with a slight frown at how obvious that answer was.
Bluegrass cleared his throat and regained his composure. “We do not have working power plants, Miss Gears. Here in the NCR we have a small collection of absurdly powerful weapon power cells known as Star Batteries. We’ve been using that limited supply for over a decade now… We are beginning to run out of them.”
Now where was a nice apple for me to bite into. “Perhaps you should first direct your requests towards engineering challenges involved in charging those batteries. Our capitol city contains a library where pre-war texts were safehoused. We—”
“No!” Bluegrass exclaimed, his ears standing upright. “Sorry to interrupt, but I want to know how you are generating your power. What’s the source?”
Mmm, maybe it was silly of me to suggest replenishing a depletable power supply. Okay, change tactics again!
I cleared my throat and recalled what I could from school to the best of my ability. “Oh! Well, we use a variety of power sources. Our Queen refused to allow coal power on the grounds that it sparked the war, and while we do have some coal, we hardly have enough for long term power generation. Her Majesty had us focus instead on the alternative sources which were in development before the war.
“We gain much of our power through thaumaturgic collectors, as well as hydroelectric dynamos. Uh, that is fairly limited by the availability of liquid water in the North, of course! We have some radiation based power plants as well... Pomare is primarily supplied power through a geothermal tap. We could of course construct most other power plant designs. We have the blueprints.”
“You can build hydroelectric dams?” Bluegrass asked quietly, with a dire seriousness in his voice. “Could you repair a broken one?”
I nodded, frowning slightly. Our hydro dam had been repaired too, not built from scratch. We’d gotten lucky on that one. But I’m certain we could find a way to fix an eve more broken one now. We had far more resources to use now than we had on hoof a hundred years ago.
“Yes,” I answered. “But, a project of such scale would take several years to finish. We could supply you thaumaturgic collectors immediately. We maintain a stockpile of them to replace failing units.”
Bluegrass cleared his throat and stood up behind his desk, his posture conveying a rather serious aura. “Miss Gears, I believe your offer is genuine. I can see how most people won't believe you, but I do. You have cybernetics and weapons I’ve never seen, and I have seen plenty of both. You are presenting yourself with a dignity and genuine nature the Herd would not, Los Pegasus has no reason to trick us, and this radio does appear to be new. You also saved my town from those bandits. I trust you. Sad fact of the matter is, well, others won't. It’s not like you’ll get to save every town from a death machine.”
I winced. “To be honest, I’d rather not have to.”
Bluegrass chuckled. “You and me both, missy!” He returned to his serious expression before continuing. “Most folks round here will see your offer as too good to be true. Would you like a brief explanation of how our nation works, Miss?”
“Yes, please!” I smiled happily, eager to get a better rundown than what little Wander had told me.
She never stayed in one town very long. It made her a bad source of knowledge when it came to settlement-based issues like politics...
“We are what the old world referred to as a Federal Republic,” Bluegrass informed as he walked across the room to return his tool vest to the coat rack. “Each settlement in our republic may be lead in the fashion it chooses, be that by a single individual, a group, or democratic charter. However, each settlement must choose a single representative who serves the community as a part of the Council. The Council votes on laws which apply to all our settlements, ensures that the needs of their settlement or region are met as needed, and help vote on decisions for which the entire nation’s resources will be required.”
“Then I need to talk to each community’s Representative?” I asked for clarity's sake.
“Correct… Unfortunately you won't find the Representatives in their settlements,” Bluegrass sighed, as if that fact was a personal issue for him as well. “They spend their time in the capitol, er, that’s Junction Town. They stay there for the sake of quick communication with one another. You’ll need to speak to them there. Unfortunately, they will not have the time to hear someone who simply claims to be a representative of a power we’ve never heard of before.”
I sighed and closed my eyes tightly. “Of course not...”
“I’m afraid politics is always a little inefficient, Miss Gears,” Bluegrass said with a sigh equally weary as my own. “As the leader of a single settlement, one whose power is limited by a Town Charter in addition to the NCR’s Constitution, there is little I could do to help a nation-state. I simply do not have the power to commit large amounts of goods in a trade deal. My role here is largely arbitration and hearing complaints.
“That said, as I implied, I can send some small amounts of goods north. I will be talking with your Queen to at the very least confirm there is a kingdom up north and it wishes to trade. Even still, I cannot recommend speaking to the leaders of the major cities enough. Sire’s Hollow is a small community. We grow corn, wheat, hops, and some grapes, and make alcohol, that is our purpose. If not for the fertile soil in this valley, our town would not exist.
“Now, Tenpony Tower, Fillydelphia, Baltimore, New Appaloosa… Those are places worth visiting for more specialized things. If you can make radios, you need copper, crystal, and other odds and ends. They can provide them. What’s more, if they think ya’ll can assist them, you’ll have an easier time convincing the Council to take you seriously. It would also be a good idea to get the backing of our President, too. They oversee the council as the individual responsible for choosing the overall direction of our nation as an Executive Officer.
“The president holds a good deal of power, but the Council must still approve their non-military decisions. If you can get the backing of the leaders from a few of the major cities and the approval of the president, the Council is sure to be willing to at the very least hear you out. That’s the best advice I can give you… Other than wait for raiders to attack each community and swing in like Swordmare herself to save the day.”
I chuckled to hide my embarrassment at being compared to that fictional character yet again. “Please, don’t jinx it for me, mister mayor.”
Bluegrass smiled and gave me a wink. “It’s fine. I don't believe in superstition, so it wont work on things I say. That’s how it works. Tell you what I’ll do for you, miss Gears. I will write a letter to the President telling her about our meeting and my impression of you. It should take around a week to arrive in her talons with my seal on it. I recommend you wait here for a few days, then head right to Junction Town. That way you arrive at her office with an outside source to confirm your story.
“You’re something of a hero to my little town. If you want to stay put, for at least wait a little while, I’ll have you put up at the Cat for as long as you like. No charge. Then, when you’re ready, you can head to Junction Town to meet with President Regina and get the kind of deal your Queen seems to be after.”
I nodded and thought his suggestion through for a moment. It was a nice idea, and I did like Sire’s Hollow… But my Queen had given me a job to do, and as they say, “Be there acid rain, bloodice, Windigo, or ghoul, we will deliver the mail.”
Bluegrass frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t quite understand what you mean by that.”
“It’s the Royal Courior’s Oath, sir,” I explained as I stood up. “As much as I like your town, I have mail to deliver. I took the job, so I have to finish it. I also agreed to take the Water Talisman the Tainted were after to Tenpony Tower for safe keeping, and to make sure they know it’s not in your town anymore.”
Bluegrass went a little pale, clearly envisioning a second, less improvised attack on his town. “That’s… Good idea. I’m sorry to see you go back out there when those rainbow raiders are seemingly everywhere, it’s like they can teleport. All of them! But, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help?”
I nodded and fished my map out of my saddlebag. “Yes, can you show me where Junction Town is?”
Bluegrass took one look at my map and scoffed. “Not on that scrap paper I can’t. Wait here, we have a small supply of maps for trade caravans. I’ll get you one of those.”
☢★★◯★★☢
After leaving Bluegrass’ office behind, he took me to his shop to check for a hydro-pump that would fit in me. Unfortunately, nothing he had would fit. Bluegrass promised to send word to me if he ever found a part in my size and that I could have it whenever he got it. A nice gesture, but I expected I’d be back home and mom would just make one before he stumbled onto one.
With that taken care of, I set out to do the one thing I knew I should do before leaving, even though I’d already made poor Wander wait extra long. Buy some armor.
Fortunately, Sire’s Hollow had an armorer who not only made armor to order, but had a small stock for sale.
Unfortunately, the town armorer couldn’t accept my voucher as payment. Caps only. Even worse, nopony in town could legally cash an NCR caps voucher.
Fortunately, the armorer decided to give me a set of armor on the house as a gift for saving the town!
Unfortunately, my flanks didn’t fit in anything he had on the racks… So he gave me some armored socks, nice little cream colored linen socks with armor plates covered in super soft black leather. They felt nice, and at least my legs would be a bit better protected. They also made it look like i had thigh high boots on, which made me feel cute.
With my new socks, a nice new high quality map, a new cloak wrapped around my shoulders (A nice traveler’s cloak made from a blue tarp I had seen in a show window and liked so much the old mare who owned it gave it to me), and a small note from the mayor to use in conjunction with my Courior’s pass at Tenpony, I finally met up with Wander at the town gate.
As I approached her, Wander looked up, and levitated a jet black object out from under her cloak. Confused by this, I forgot to say hello as I trotted up to her, instead fixing my gaze on the…
Decapitated head of the ultra-sentinel I’d killed. Huh?
“What's with the head?” I asked with a slight wince as Wander floated it towards me.
“You know the barkeeper?” Wander asked.
I nodded. “Yes. His name is Conan.”
“Fitting,” Wander remarked without skipping a beat. “He came out here, asked where you were. I said with the mayor. He didn’t want to disturb you… So, he walked over to the sentinel, sliced the head off with his claws, ripped the matrix guts out and… Well… Look.”
I looked down at the severed robot head, or should I say helmet. The front had been carved out so I would have a good field of view looking out through the place the single sensor had been. Slots had been cut for my ears too, and the entire head had been squished slightly so it was more rounded and would fit on a pony’s head.
He’d just squished it into a helmet… Dang! I wish exercising improved my strength. I’d work out however he did!
“He told me that ‘A warrior should always keep trophies.’ and ‘a pretty zebra should protect her face’. And then, well, told me to give this to you,” Wander said, shaking the helmet slightly.
I took it and tucked it away in my saddlebag. It was definitely a cool keepsake, but I didn’t exactly need to protect my head right now. I turned and looked back at the bar. “I should go say thank you…”
Wander shook her head. “He knows we’re taking the Talisman away, and he was proud of that. Let’s not upset the freakishly strong Hellhound who seems happy to just make ponies drinks… I— I don’t wanna end up on that wall. It would take me weeks to die, you know,” Wander said with a full body shudder that convey exactly how terrified of Conan she truly was.
“Fair point,” I said with an understanding smile. I guess she had trouble seeing the adorable fuzzy puppy in him.
I turned and began to walk down the road, heading east towards where my new map had said Tenpony Tower was. Right in the middle of Manehattan.
“Come on,” I said cheerfully. “I know the way for a change!”
Wander rolled her eyes and trotted in front of me. “You’re six degrees too far south. You’d wind up in Applewood. You don’t want to wind up in Applewood… Even though it’s better post-war than pre-war. Come on. Let your guide be the guide.”
I smiled and trotted after her.
As we walked towards Manehattan, I wondered if the ponies of Tenpony would be as nice as the ones who lived here.