//------------------------------//
// 10 - Highs and Loves 
// Story: Fallout Equestria: Operation Star Drop 
// by Meep the Changeling 
//------------------------------//

Mom and I had been to Manehattan before. Unlike most of my early memories, I remembered the city clearly. Buckled and broken streets underneath my hooves, small patches of molten asphalt sill bubbling from especially persistent patches of balefire. Dust, rubble, bodies, and toppled buildings covering most of what was left of the once elegant network of roads.

If I closed my eyes, I could see the towering columns of brick and glass which had once reached up to the clouds. Many of them were simply gone, most of those which remained were skeletal fragments of buildings with a scattering of intact rooms. The newer steel and crystal towers had held up better. Many of them stood tall, proud, and full of holes, casting long shadows across the smouldering remains of everything built from lesser materials.

Even back then, with my mind barely more developed than a Mister Handy’s crude programming, I had felt like my family was plundering a tomb. Before walking through the city again today, I’d hoped ponies had rebuilt the once bustling metropolis. I couldn’t have possibly been more wrong.

There was even less of Manehattan standing after all these years than there was just after the war. Of course I’d expected weather and time to topple some of the ruins. I also expected some of the old to be demolished to make way for the new. What I didn’t expect was for the city to look like a second apocalypse hit it with a flying elbow tackle just as it was starting to get back up.

There were some craters in the ground I knew were not from balefire bombs. Most were too small, the others were almost perfectly cylindrical, and ringed by ash, char, and soot. Many towers were covered in black marks which showed the city had burned. Energy weapon craters pockmarked many of the remaining walls, roofs, window frames, everywhere a pony might have taken cover.

It was as if a group of complete monsters had suddenly invaded an old folks home, destroyed all their belongings, and subjected nearly all of the old ponies living there to summary executions. Then, another completely unrelated group came along and did the exact same thing all over again.

It had to be the Battle of Manehattan Wander had mentioned in Pip’s Ballad. But… But those cylindrical holes, and the fires. Those had to have been made by megaspells. There was only one pony I knew of with even a vague idea of how to make a single, individual component of a megaspell, and she certainly hadn’t done so in the last two centuries.

As Wander and I passed yet another of the craters, this one having completely burned through the center of a toppled skyscraper, I had to ask.

I cleared my throat, making Wander turn her head. “What’s up?”

“What made these holes?” I asked, pointing to the charred, nearly perfectly round hole scorched through the skyscraper above us on the right, then the matching circular pit half filled with rainwater seared into the ground to our left.

“Celestia Prime,” Wander answered immediately.

Then she didn’t say anything else. As if I should know what that was.

I slowly moved my hoof in a circle to prompt her to continue.

Wander facehooved. “Oh. Right! Sorry. Old Equestrian missile defense system. Opens a portal into the sun to blast whatever you point it at with solar fire or something. It was used as artillery in the Battle of Manehattan by the Twilight Society.”

Wander raised an eyebrow before I could reply. “Wait, doesn't your mom have all the old blueprints? Shouldn’t you know about like, every megaspell we had?”

I shook my head. “Mom didn’t get to everything, remember? I told you about how we couldn’t access some places at all, and the ones we did hardly had complete records. The hub in Trottingham was half vaporized, and half burnt to ash. If she did recover any megaspell plans, I haven't seen them, and they would be in the Meganeuropsis vault.”

Wander tilted her head to one side. “The what?”

“The Meganeuropsis,” I repeated, giving Wander a strange look before fachooving myself. “And now it’s my turn to forget you're not from where I’m from! Argh!”

Wander smirked, giggled, then laughed and shook her head. “Haha… You remind me of Bonb—” she froze, cleared her throat and wiped the smile from her face. “So uh, what is the Meganeurowhatsits?”

“Queen Chrysalis’ flagship. Her Majesty uses it as her home,” I answered.

Wander resumed leading me deeper into the dessicated corpse of a city. “You have coast line? That should make trade easier.”

“Oh, no. It’s an airship, a really big one… Imagine the kind of ship you might design if you were an egomaniac who wanted a battlecruiser-carrier-shipyard-airship and it had to be bug themed.”

Wander snorted. “Changelings are weird… There's no way that thing would have been effective in combat.”

“Probably not,” I agreed, then blushed a little. “But she’s got great guns!”

Wander took a deep breath. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you said that like ‘but he has great abs’ and keep leading you to Tenpony.”

I fell quiet again, still blushing, and trotted along after her.


☢★★◯★★☢


Deep within the heart of the ruins, civilization found its niche, and managed to thrive. One nearly-intact artpiece of a skyscraper, designed as a homage to Reneighssance Equestrian architecture soared upwards so high that it’s topmost spire had been behatted with an airship dock. An airship dock which had been itself behatted by a massive radio antenne.

So this is where DJ Pon3 broadcast from. I doubted there was any other transmitter that powerful with an intact tower left in the Heartland.

The intactness of the radio tower extended to Tenpony Tower itself. Aside from the tower’s eastern wall, which was covered in recently applied patchwork repairs, the building was perfectly fine. If her Majesty was so persuaded, we could easily supply the concrete and marble needed to fully repair the tower’s facade. Which was good, since it was obviously a major city for the NCR.

The tower itself sat in the center of a town. The skyscrapers around the monorail tracks leading up to Tenpony had been repaired to livable conditions. The streets had been cleared of rubble. Defensive walls had been built between the buildings. I could see small hoof bridges connecting many of the renovated towers, though none of them ran from the outer towers to Tenpony. It remained visibly isolated, with a full block radius of empty space between its walls and the rest of the city.

The restored part of Manehattan was alive. There were tenements, markets, and restaurants. I could hear ponies going about their day. Adults, children, even foals. Just living. Having a good time.

Wander and I passed through the gatehouse built into the road we were walking down with no trouble. I couldn’t help but notice that the ponies guarding it were definitely NCR soldiers, based on their brown uniforms. But they didn’t have the overcoats, helmets, or maks. They had simple cloth fatigues, and a single old Equestrian infantry carbine each.

Hardly the sort of soldiers you wanted protecting a major city! Heck, Pomare was protected by six of our twenty power-armored infantry ponies, three platoons of mobile infantry, and even a few tanks! Why was this bustling community defended by pudgy stallions with cloth and popguns? It made, no, bucking, sense!

Wander gently tugged on my scarf to get my attention. She looked at me with a half disappointed half amused look. “Gears, if you stare at that poor guard any longer he’s going to think you’re in heat and want him.”

EXECUTING STARE_AT_PONY.CMD!

He was kind of young, and a little bit fat. But that was okay! His mane was truly glorious! Long locks of deep imperial purple which flowed in the wind like—

“Gears!” Wander snapped, managing to wrest my attention away from my future coltfriend.

“Huh?” I asked blinking a few times.

“He’s maybe twenty!” She hissed.

“So what?” I demanded, my brow furrowing. “That’s an adult!”

“Yesss, but he grew up here. You can tell, because he's overweight,” Wander took a deep breath. “You’re making him very uncomfortable!”

I frowned and looked back to the guard. He did look fidgety and kept throwing clearly nervous glances in my direction… Why would— 

“Oh! Manehattan has a high percentage of gay ponies?” I asked with a little smile.

Maybe he could help me pretty myself up and find somepony else in town!

Wander looked at me like I’d just said the sky was pink. “What?! No!” She said before pointing upwards. “He’s lived under that his whole life!”

I tilted my head upwards, and for the first time I saw an intact billboard. A billboard still covered in pre-war propaganda.

It was minimalist. It was oddly striking. A simple white background. A gold Ministry of Image logo in the center. An overlay of bold black text, sized to be readable at any distance you could see the billboard from.





Ponies love laughter. Zebras do not understand joy and fear it.
Ponies are honest. Zebras tell only lies.
Ponies are loyal. Zebras will knife you in the back.
Ponies are generous. Zebras are selfish and greedy.
Ponies care about each other. Zebras care only about themselves.





My core dropped by five degrees. “Oh…”

I looked at the ground in front of me, not sure how to feel.

Wander wrapped her left foreleg around my shoulders. “Hey… If it’s any consolation, a lot of ponies have been fighting to get that taken down.”

“It isn’t,” I muttered quietly. “Thanks for the hug… Lets… Let’s get to the stupid tower already.”

Stupid clam jamming racist billboards…


☢★★◯★★☢


It took a surprising amount of time to make our way through the Tenpony suburbs. A surprising, frustrating, emotionally grating, and also long time.

MoI propaganda was everywhere. Everywhere! Every pony Wander or I tried to talk to was curt at best, hostile at worst, but most often just ignored us.

All I wanted was to see if any of the armories had anything that might fit my barrel. I still had those breached plates to worry about…

When we passed the electronics shop that was selling pre war salvaged parts and restored items of all kinds, I hadn’t even wanted to look inside to see if they had a spare pump, or fresh diodes to get rid of the everpresent throbbing in my side. I knew the shopkeeper would just yell at me to get out of his store.

I just wanted to deliver my package and leave.

Wander trotted up to the base of the monorail ramp and stopped. “This is as far as I go.”

I frowned slightly and stopped at her side. “I know you weren't going in with me, but I thought you’d at least walk me to the gates.”

Wander shook her head. “Sorry, but Manehattan is sort of where I was a big deal. There’s no way somepony in there hasn’t managed to keep their great-great grandma's memorabilia collection intact all these years, and with my luck they’re just happening to look out a window as I walk up… Seeing as how I still look like the old me, just kind of ill…”

I sighed and gave Wander a gentle hug. “I understand… Keep safe okay? I heard those charming townsponies muttering things about you, too… How can they even tell you’re a ghoul?”

Wander smiled. “Because in spite of my best efforts, I’m still famous. Come on, I’m a ghoul that’s been roaming around playing music for ponies for centuries! Kind of hard to not be well known about after that.”

“Ah… Makes sense,” I said with an understanding nod.

I turned and looked up at the massive tower looming overhead. No way ponies who refused to be connected to their city’s own suburbs would be less racist.

“I really wish you could come with me,” I said just for the record. “Where will we meet when I’m done?”

Wander pointed to a short six story building to our left. It was slightly burned, but most of its brickwork was intact, even if the paint, signage, and most windows were not. “See that building?”

I nodded.

Wander pointed to the third floor, at a large windowless section of the building. “That, right there, is Hoofbeats. It used to be the most awesome above-ground underground nightclub in all of Equestria.”

It seemed a little odd to me that Wander would want to wait for me in a place that used to mean so much to her. Maybe, just maybe, that was a sign that our unacknowledged friendship was helping her heal!

I’ll get you to say the f-word yet, you silly filly! Muahahaha!

“Is that your old stomping grounds?” I asked playfully.

Wander nodded. “Literally. I... Have something I need to do there. There’s no way anyone’s gotten inside. We, uh…”She blushed and giggled. “We used to do stuff in there the MoI hated! You’d need plastic explosives to break into the club. The code for the door is six-nine-six-nine, just in case it locks behind me. Trust me, I won't hear you knocking.”

I nodded then paused and gave Wander a blank look. “Sixty-nine sixty-nine?”

She nodded. “Yep. Don’t look at me. I didn’t set the code.”

“Who did?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Rainbow Dash. She co-owned the club, sourced all of the security hardware for me,” Wander said as she began to trot towards the old ruin. “See you later… If it takes more than a day or so, send a message.”

I nodded, turned to walk up the ramp, then froze, and wheeled back around. “A day?!”

Wander suddenly spun around and reared up to make her cloak billow dramatically. With an especially theatrical flourish, she pointed to the tower with both hooves like the ringleader of a circus. “Welcome, my dear zeeb, to Bureaucracy Park!”

I felt my burnt-out diodes throb in fear.

Wander smiled, turn around, and trotted off whistling a rather upbeat tune.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to steel myself, spent a few minutes realizing that expression didn’t work for me, as steel is a downgrade from titanium, and therefore I’d be making myself more vulnerable and sluggish, distracted myself for a good two minutes trying to come up with a proper idiom, gave up, donned my courier’s robe, and finally trotted up the ramp towards the tower.

I could see the old sign on the monorail track informing passengers this was the stop for the Manehattan Ministry of Arcane Science Hub up ahead. I frowned, more than a little confused.

Hadn’t we gone to an underground MAS facility in Manehattan? I remembered this trip very well, but I did not remember this tower.

”We did,” dad’s voice confirmed for me. ”Swan must not have known about the tower. It’s publicly visible, after all. Doctor Silver couldn't have kept your mother’s captivity a secret if she was seen by hundred of civilians walking into a huge place like that every day.”

Good point, dad. Everywhere we went was definitely out of the public’s eye…

The monorail ramp lead to a train station built right into Tenpony Tower, up around the tenth floor. I’d gotten a look at the ground floor entrance on my way up. It had been completely filled in by rubble which looked a little too orderly to have simply fallen as it lay. The train station was the only way in or out of the tower.

It gave me flashbacks to how well defended I thought Magebridge had been.

Flashbacks which abated the minute I got inside the station itself. The station was, like most train stations, a large room for people to wait in, with many back rooms. The choke point for the tower wasn’t the big hole the monorail cars would pass through. It was the little service doorway that maybe a large cart could pass through, and then whatever lay beyond that.

I started to trot to the door, making my way past dozens of old marque boards where old advertisement posters would have once been displayed within the formerly enchanted cases. Then, I stopped. Two of the poster-cases were occupied, by oil paintings of all things!

One of the two had clearly been placed there before the war. The edges of the painting were singed, the varnish was starting to discolor, and the protective enchantments the marquee board provided flickered and shimmered as their ancient crystal components struggled to provide the enchantments with enough juice to soldier on.

The painting itself was of a lavender coated unicorn mare I believed everypony would recognize, even now. Even without the nameplate, everypony would know Twilight Sparkle.

This had been her building, once upon a time. Perhaps that’s why nopony had looted the gems protecting her portrait. If any pony's legacy was as strong and well remembered as the Princess’, it was hers.

The other painting was new. The paints were not the best in quality, they had definitely smeared more than the artist wanted, run a little, and were quite grainy once dried… But the painter had been a master of their craft. They had managed to work with the sub-par materials to create a gorgeous rendition of a wiry gray unicorn mare, with a lovely brown mane.

The painting depicted her in a ray of sunlight, hovering in the sky, prying a bank of clouds apart with her magic, which surrounded her full body in an aura of holy light. This was no mere mare, this was a goddess given flesh. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever seen even one of the Princesses depicted with such divine beauty, and such obvious reverence in their iconography.

Then again, it wasn’t like I’d ever been to Canterlot before the war.

I looked down at the marquee board for a name plate. I had my suspicions, but I wanted to be sure.




Her Divine Grace, Our Salvation, Littlepip the Lightbringer.
Presented to Lady Homage by Deacon Indigo Pond on behalf of all Pipites.
In honor of her sacrifice.




Who the hay was Homage? Why did she put the painting out here? Where was a helpful ghoul with bardic lore when you needed culture explained?

I turned away from the paintings and walked through the archway into the tower. Or rather, I suddenly noticed, into the tower’s killbox! The room on the other side of the archway had been turned into a narrow single-cart hallway with steel walls. Steel walls festooned with gun ports and capped at one end by a huge metal gate.

The rusting gate had a message painted on it in large, faded red letters, with a newer message, also in red, painted beneath it in a smaller size.




No zombies!
Except Ditzy Doo.




And there was another name to learn. If there was an exception to a no ghoul policy, this Ditzy had to be a very powerful pony indeed.

I trotted forwards, doing my best to ignore the gun barrels pivoting after me through a dozen different weapon ports as I trotted up to the gate and knocked on it gently three times.

An armored window in the gate opened almost the instant I finished my third knock. A pony wearing a nearly intact set of SWAT armor stared back at me.

My eyes widened. I felt my core burn warmly. I almost jumped through the window to tackle the pony yelling “Daddy!” but then I realized that this was a mare.

She pushed up her shaded visor, revealing a pair of brightly glistening Persian-blue eyes, as well as a stern expression stamped on her statuesque face. I took a second to look down at her through the window. While she was dressed in a full set of SWAT armor, this earth pony was perfectly proportioned. She either lived at the gym and had good genes, or was the luckiest mare alive.

“State your business,” the mare said gruffly.

I cleared my throat and offered her a low bow, deciding it best to play things as formal and diplomatic as possible from the get go. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I am Whirling Gears, a courier here on behalf of multiple parties who have requested I deliver parcels to ponies who live under your superb protection.”

The mare blinked, her stern look turning to surprise. She clearly hadn’t expected me to flatter her.

Taking advantage of the moment of silence, I reached into my saddlebag and took out the courier's pass the sergeant had given me, and showed it to her, while also making sure she could see my courier’s pin… Even though she wouldn’t know a thing about my home country.

“I was told to present this to you, ma’am. I trust I will be allowed to make my rounds? I’m afraid I must do so in person to assure proper delivery.”

The guard took the pass and looked it over, holding it close to her face as she most definitely checked to see if it had been forged. “This… Actually seems to be in order… Hard to believe the Herd wants to send a letter to us. We’re all the way on the other side of the continent.”

“I’m not with the Herd, ma’am,” I corrected as swiftly as I could.

No need to walk face first into that lake of bad blood.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then who? I’ve never seen the crest on your bag before.”

“I’m from the north,” I explained with a smile. “Far across the mountains and the ice. Travel between out lands only recently became possible. I represent the Kingdom of Lith, on official business. I would appreciate being let through.”

The guard pursed her lips for a moment, looked back at the courier's pass, then nodded and handed it back to me. “Alright. Wherever you’re from, one of our boys in brown thought you were the best pony to deliver something and that’s enough for me,” she gestured to my battle saddle and cleared her throat.

I frowned. “Pardon?”

“Everypony who comes inside has to disarm,” she said adamantly. “Since you’re sporting energy weapons, that means they need to come off.”

I reached for my saddle’s strap, making sure I only unbuckled the weapon harness and not my bags. “Of course. I don’t intend to harm anypony.”

“And the pistol,” the mare added as I set my saddle on the ground.

I winced and looked her in the eyes. “It was my father’s… I trust you have a secure locker where these will stay for the duration of my stay?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“And they won't have mysteriously vanished by the time I am ready to leave your tower?” I added, perhaps a touch rudely.

With how clear it was the ponies here hated zebras, I felt like I needed to be just a little hostile in return to show them I wouldn’t be pushed around.

“Of course they will be. What do you take us for? Wastelanders? We’re not thieves. You’ll get your guns back,” she insisted, her face twisting up with outrage.

I see I had been a little too hostile… Oops.

I nodded politely, then took my pistol out of its holster and set it atop my saddle. “Thank you… I experienced a rather distressing time in your suburbs. My apologies for having been put on edge.”

The mare scoffed and closed the window. A moment later the gate began to squeak as she slid it open. “I think you’ll find that Tenpony citizens are not like those Friendship City refugees outside our walls, miss. Welcome to Tenpony Tower.”

A pale green aura enveloped my saddle and weapons as a second guard levitated them through the gate to a large hooflocker, which she opened with her hooves, set my guns inside, locked, then floated the locker’s key over to me. The key even had a little tag on it with the locker’s number.

I took the key and smiled. “Thank you, miss.”

She nodded back. “Courier.”

I began to trot inside when I heard the mare who had stored my gear whisper just a bit lower than necessary. “What about her hoof-to-hoof? Don’t we have leg irons or something?”

“Not all zebras are kung-fu masters,” the first guard replied quietly. “Besides, you really think a zebra couldn't slip cuffs if she wanted?”

“... True enough,” the other guard muttered.

I smirked. It would probably blow their minds if they knew that all I could do was box. The sporting version. Not the martial art.

Behind the gate was a pair of massive, ornate, bronze plated double doors. I pushed open the one on the left and stepped out of the Wasteland, and into pre-war Equestria.

I was in a palace!

Marble floors!

Gold chandeliers that worked!

Red velvet carpets!

Fluted marble columns! Not for supporting things, just because!

Tapestries!

Frescoes!

A massive three story high room containing a ginormous statue of a huge alicorn mare holding up the sun with her wings!

I stared at the statue, my mouth hanging open. Celestia! It could only be her. Rendered in bronze which glowed in the light of the chandeliers so it shimmered like the rising sun. The base of the statue was a fountain, powered by several water talismans, which had been carefully constructed to ensure the chandeliers would cast rainbows around the statue.

The artistry lovingly poured into the statue was easily on par with the painting of Littlepip outside. But more importantly…

“She was the tallest!” I gasped to myself.

Somepony next to me cleared their throat. “May I help you?”

I turned to see a tall, rail thin, older earth pony stallion with gray fur dressed in a worn but well fitting black suit complete with bowtie standing stiffly a short distance to my left. The look in his eyes gave me the distinct impression that he was ‘the help’ and in spite of this was still better than me.

Oh. Joy. Aristocratic Bureaucracy Park.

Wander, you macaroni! I need you for moral support!

”The hay kind of insult is macaroni?” dad laughed.

Shut up! I’m mad at her!

Dad just laughed harder.

I cleared my throat and wiped the stupid shocked expression off my face, then turned to face the older ‘gentleman’.

“Good afternoon, my name is Whirling Gears,” I said with a polite bow.

“Earl Gray,” he answered with a droll sigh. “Do you have business here, or are you just visiting?”

“I’m a courier. I have a delivery to make to your security chief, and also to your mayor or equivalent community leader,” I said as I took my courier’s pass out to show Earl.

He examined the pass for a moment then nodded to himself. “I see… May I ask what exactly are you delivering?”

“I was hired by an NCR Sergeant to return a water talisman they were transporting to your security chief,” I answered promptly.

Earl’s ears moved very slightly, but otherwise his mask of ‘better than thou butler’ remained. “Mmm, yes. You must be that zebra. Please, follow me. I will show you to the chief’s office.”


☢★★◯★★☢


Apparently, in Tenpony Speak, ‘I will show you to the chief’s office’ means ‘I’ll take you through a back route down a service elevator to a floor where only the security grunts go so you’re out of sight.’

Because that’s exactly what happened. In total silence. Earl Gray didn’t say another word to me until we were trotting down an unpainted concrete hallway and he suddenly stopped beside a thick metal door with ‘security’ painted on it in white.

“The chief’s office,” Earl announced, stepping aside and standing by the door.

I noticed he didn’t open it for me.

I cleared my throat. “After this will you take me to the mayor’s office?”

“We don’t have a mayor,” Earl drolled. “But I will take you to the Council’s Office, yes.”

Oh. Joy. This place was run by committee… Please don’t be a government descended from a pre-war Equestrian Homeowners Association! My not-brain would implode trying to deal with that level of horseapplery.

I opened the door, still annoyed that Earl hadn’t while being my guide to the tower, and stepped inside the office.

I’d expected a small waiting room. There wasn’t one. All there was to see was a small room that had at one point definitely been a janitor’s closet which was stuffed half full of filing cabinets. The other half was cluttered with a variety of storage boxes, two weapons lockers, a hooflocker, and a big old wooden office desk half covered with paperwork, a terminal, and at the moment, a big bowl of noodles and steak bits, and a Sparkle Cola. The desk also had a nameplate which read ‘Sky Chaser’.

Behind the desk sat a somewhat-young looking pegasus stallion with a burnt orange coat, and an azure mane cut down into a super-short mohawk, perhaps a quarter-hoof tall. He was wearing an old pale-brownish-orangish-sandish motorcycle jacket which almost looked like rawhide, but had enough shine to it to indicate it had been dyed. A silver police badge was pinned to his jacket on the left collar, and the strap of a rather nasty looking SMG ran across his barrel.

He looked up in surprise as I opened the door. “Um… Can I help you?” He asked with a mouthful of noodles, then cringed, swallowed, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, you’re looking for the bathroom, aren't you? It’s two more doors down.”

I shook my head and trotted inside. “I’m not looking for the bathroom, sir. I’m here to deliver a package.”

“Oh,” he said with an uncertain smile. “Come in.”

I closed the door behind me and walked over to his desk, unbuckling my delivery bag as I went.

“I didn’t know we had any zebras living here. It’s nice to see there’s at least one!” Sky said with a polite smile. “I can't imagine how you put up with those stuffy elitists up there… Hard enough to be respected as a pony who got Tenpony citizenship.”

“I don’t live here, sir,” I informed as I reached into my bag and produced the box containing the water talisman. “I was hired to return this to you by a trooper in Sire’s Hollow.”

I set the box down on one of the few free spots on his desk. Sky stood up to reach the box to see exactly what was in it. As he stood up I saw both his cutiemarks had been burned off, leaving behind only bubbly, twisted, scars.

I flinched. He noticed.

“Don’t mind the scars,” he said as he picked up the box and opened it to make sure the talisman was inside. “They're just reminders that the Enclave were the bad guys.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Odd way to phrase that sentiment, if I may say so.”

“Trust me,” Sky said as he set the box back down on his side of the desk. “If you’d lived under them, it’s the only real way to put it.”

I frowned and nodded in silent agreement, not wanting to make a pony remember being intentionally disfigured.

Sky looked up at me and smiled. “Thank you for returning this… Were you paid in advance?”

My ears perked as I remembered that yes, I had been. Sort of. “Yes. She wrote a voucher for me.”

“Why don’t I cash that for you?” Sky offered as he opened first one drawer, then another, than a third before finally producing a small brass key.

He smiled at me sheepishly as I dug out the voucher. “I uh… I’m new to the job. The last guy left the place a mess when he died.”

I handed over my voucher, and Sky read it, then frowned. “This isn’t very much… Seeing as how you’ve returned an irreplaceable artifact safe and sound, I think I’ll cut you a little bonus.”

He stood up from his creaky wooden chair and unlocked the hooflocker with a key. I remained where I was, not wanting him to think I was going to assault and rob him. Which could easily have been his conclusion, thanks to the locker being entirely filled with small leather bags bulging with caps, as well as plenty of stray ones scattered about inside.

Sky took a total of ten bags out of the locker and set them aside muttering, “Two hundred,” then counted out four more bags, opened the last one,and removed ten caps, dropping them into the locker before closing and locking it.

He then picked up the bags and moved them over to me. “Here you are. Two hundred you were owed, with a bonus of seventy to make the price a bit more fair. I’d make it an even three hundred, but the Council has limits on bonus payments to outsiders.”

I bowed politely and put the caps into my personal bag. “Thank you very much, sir! I’m glad the talisman is in a secure location and won't cause any trouble for— OH! That’s right, I was asked to forward a special request from the Sergeant. Please have DJ Pon3 inform the wasteland in general the talisman has been secured, so the raiders wont hit Sire’s Hollow again looking for it.”

Sky nodded and sat back down, powering on his terminal. “I’ll send that to her right away. It’s a good idea, Sire’s Hollow makes a big chunk of our food. If it went down, the NCR would have to ration meals for a while.”

I frowned and titled my head. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Sky said with an uncertain look in his eyes and a flick of his ears.

Clearly he didn’t understand what I was confused by.

“You… called DJ Pon3 ‘her’,”I reminded, doing my best to be as polite as possible. “But their voice is distinctly male. Where I come from, we have had a small number of ponies who wish to be treated as the opposite sex, is that the case with—”

Sky snorted and grinned as he held in a laugh. “Oh gosh, no! Funny to see it the other way around for a change. No. DJ Pon3 is a title passed from one pony to another over the years. There’s always been a DJ Pon3, some even say the first one was around before the ministries ran public broadcasting! Uh, point is, there’s a spell that’s been passed down to change a pony’s voice, that way DJ Pon3’s always got the same voice.

“The current pony holding the title is a mare. The funny part is, until Pip broadcast her life story from the SPP, nopony knew about the title thing. A lot of wastelanders thought there was an immortal Alicorn of the Airwaves or other things like that. Your average pony out there is a little stupid, so they think since Homage uses the old title and voice, she wants to be a stallion. You got it the other way around, so, it’s funny.”

“Oh!” I said with a relieved smile and swish of my tail.

So that’s who Homage was. But why would a religion dedicated to Pip give her a painting of Pip? And why would she choose to hang it outside of the tower?

I cleared my throat and offered Sky another polite bow. “Thank you for your time and kindness, sir.”

“Not a problem! If you have any problems collecting anything my mares made you check at the gate, come on back and I’ll make sure you get your belongings back,” Sky said as he began to type at his terminal.

I frowned and pawed the floor uncertainty. “Is that likely?”

“No. But it is possible, and I won't stand for that kind of discrimination at my gate,” Sky said firmly.

“Thank you,” I said again as I turned to leave. “I hope you have a nice day.”

“I won't,” he sighed. “I have to deliver my two-week job-assumption report, and a general State of the Tower report today at five, then five fifteen… But, just for you, I’ll try to have a nice day tomorrow.”

I smiled at his joke then took my leave. Almost as soon as I’d set one hoof in the hallway, Earl Gray cleared his throat. “This way to the Council Room, miss,” Earl said as he began to trot back towards the service elevator.

I narrowed my eyes. Seriously?!

”Could be worse,” dad sighed.

Yeah, he could be calling me stripe…

”Oh no. I meant that if you were here pre-war he’d take that pistol out of his coat and shoot you on sight.”

I flinched, sure enough there was a slight lump in his breast pocket that had to be from a small pistol. Point taken.

“Is there any protocols for delivering a package to the Council?” I asked Earl as he fast-trotted me towards the elevator.

He stopped in his tracks, making me nearly run face first into his plot. Desperate for intimacy as I may be, that would have been gross…

Earl sighed and turned around. “It would have been prudent of you to mention it was a parcel and not a letter before we reached the chief’s office.”

I rolled my eyes as Earl turned around and moved past me, returning to Sky’s office door and knocking twice upon it.

“Come in.”

Earl opened the door and waved me over. “My apologies, sir, but this courier has a parcel for the Council as well and it must be inspected.”

I trotted over to the door just in time to see Sky stand up. “Of course. Won't take a minute. Can you hand it over to me, miss…?”

“Gears,” I answered.

He raised an eyebrow. “An Equestrian name? That’s a little rare for a Zebra. Even ones native to Equestria.”

“I was adopted by ponies, sir,” I replied as I opened my delivery bag, then the hardcase, and took out one of the radios. “I am to deliver this radio and contact instructions to your Council. Other radios in the set have been examined before. You’ll find nothing amiss.”

“Still, I’ve got to look,” Sky said as he took the radio from me and set it on his desk. “It’s my job. You know, since there isn’t a grunt around to do it for me.”


☢★★◯★★☢


A few minutes and a disorganized search for tools later, and the cover had been removed, no explosives or hexes had been found (obviously) and the radio was back in one piece, minus a single screw that, to quote Sky, had “bucked off to where nopony has gone before”.

I felt for him. We all encounter adventurous screws once in a while.

Hopefully delivering my other package wouldn’t be as impossible as locating an adventurous screw…

Earl led me and the now ‘green’ package back up the Elevator and through a series of servent’s passages through the fourth floor, with our ultimate destination being a room on the fifth floor. Much to my surprise, as we began climbing the stairs to the fifth floor, he actually spoke to me.

“I don’t know where you come from, but you must be on your best behavior when addressing the Council Pony you are allowed to see,” Earl said in a tone that was almost but not quite demanding. “Our Tower has persevered from the very day the bombs toppled Equestria, and never once have we faltered in ensuring our nation’s High Society and proper manners survive. Where you come from, it may not be important to speak and act with proper decorum, but here it most certainly is.

“That was true for the two-hundred years our community was ruled over by the House of Spur, and the direct descendants of Duke Silver Spur himself, and it is most certainly still true with the Twilight Society as our current ruling noble house. I am glad you are at the least dressed, even your drab garment is leagues above the nothing the last of your kind chose to speak to the Council in.”

I felt my eye laser start to charge of its own accord.

”Own accord my ponut!” imaginary dad scoffed.

Can I please shoot him?!

”No.”

Fine…

I did my best to put on a fake smile. “I am fully versed in all forms of etiquette relating to royalty and the courts, sir. For example, it is considered bad form to disrespect messengers. They have this tendency to report back to their Queens with assessments of the people they delivered messages to, in order to provide context for better understanding replies.”

Earl scoffed. “Indeed. It is also bad form to send a messenger of inferior stock, as your messenger is a representative of your house.”

”Okay, now you can shoot him!”

I really shouldn’t.

”Please?”

No.

”You don’t have to kill him. Just melt his ponut shut!”

Dad!

”What? I’d say laser his balls off but it’s clear he hasn’t got a pair to begin with.”

I managed to resist the urge to give Earl a structurally superfluous plot hole for the rest of the walk. Our route finally took out out of the drab servant’s corridors and back into the palatial splendor of the tower proper, but only for a few moments. Then we were in front of a pair of large oaken doors with brass handles and a silver plaque reading, ‘Ministry Mare’s Office’ over which somepony had painted ‘Council Office’.

That felt just a touch disrespectful…

Earl stood next to the door and cleared his throat. “You’ll have to wait your turn, of course… I suggest you try blinking before going inside. Your left eye is a little red.”

“It will clear up momentarily,” I promised as I did my best to smile as I left.

I opened the door and entered the past!

No, not the past, just a waiting room full of nearly a dozen ponies, all of whom were well dressed, well groomed, and definitely well-to-do. The room itself was immaculate, matching the ponies own splendor with upholstered sofas that matched, and a huge Griffon-made traditional plush rug which even my honest little heart wanted me to steal because my goodness was it pretty and soft and soft-pretty and soft!

Everypony looked up at me as I entered the room. Their reactions were mixed. Mostly surprise, with some distaste, some disinterest, and one pony who gave me a look which I didn’t remotely understand. It was like she was hungry, and wanted to eat me.

I took a seat as far away from the possible cannibal as I could and hoped that my red robes would look at least possibly nice in the sea of silk, silver, gold, velvet, and jewelry around me. A little voice in the back of my mind diverted my attention to the fact that while everypony here had nice clothing, it was not nice new clothing. It was all well maintained, but all 200 years old.

My robes, on the other hoof, had been tailored expressly for me and my big plot. They were new, like all couriers got. So at least I had that going for me.

Time began to slowly tick by. It was clear to me that each appointment with the Council took quite some time. Enough time where everypony in the room was talking to each other as if they were hanging out in a park, making a nice dull buzz of background noise that I felt I could meditate too.

I should do that. It had been some time since I had done basic self care. I had some spiritual power to gather. Damaged systems in need of a little magical influencing… I couldn't do much more than make sure my gears worked like they were new and well oiled, but dang it, my side hurt enough as is!

I closed my eyes and began to focus on myself, leaving the physical world as a blurred, background nothingness, simply letting myself attend to my own spirit, and the energy of the world around me.

It was… Distressing.

After getting to be in something approximating a body, something which let me experience the world like a mortal did… Even simply looking at the timeless and spaceless realm of thought and energy was more than a little discomforting. If I died, I’d be thrust back into the infinite yet infinitesimal sea of chaos. Just another mind among infinite others, forever seeing all of time and all of space, yet able to make sense of none of it, and nothing, not one thing, would ever allow me to return to the life I led now.

Nor would the thousands of other spirits who, like me, had been given a machine which served as a body. I would hear their screams and wails as they suffered just as I did in the endless-yet-limited overflowing void… I would despair with them there for the rest of eternity.

My eyes snapped open. It took every fiber of my being not to scream, but I managed.

I twitched my left hind leg. It moved smoothly, and felt a little better.

Good.

Not worth the fear. But good.

An elderly mare next to me placed a hoof on my foreleg. “Are you alright, dear? You seem as if you’ve seen a ghost… I’ve heard your kind can. Is there anything I should be worried about?”

I shook my head before looking over at her. “No. Everything is fine. I… Meditated too hard. That’s all.”

“I see,” she said with a polite inflection.

I turned toward her for the first time. She had once been a grass green earth pony, but now she was silver maned and snow white. The simple fact somepony so old could be not only seemingly in good health, but a little bit fat, rocked me to my core. I offered her a polite smile of my own.

“Sorry for forgetting where I was, ma’am,” I said with a little sitting bow.

“It’s quite alright, dear,” she dismissed with a smile. “Though if you’d like to make an old mare happy, would you mind telling me where you purchased such an elegantly understated gown? The minimalist look is going to be in this season and your tailor is certainly on top of the latest fashions already.”

Celestia’s fetlocks! These ponies cared about fashion?! Well, in that case, let’s just whip up a bunch of citizen demand for trade goods, it will be cake! Listening to Sassy’s marketing tips always paid off!

“Certainly,” I said raising my voice just a little, so I was speaking loud enough to be heard throughout the entire room, but not so loud as to be shouting. “It was made for me by—”

“It was made for you?” The mare interrupted. “That is to say it’s new? But it’s so well spun! All of the clothing I’ve seen the NCR trying to sell here has been rough spun natural fibers at best… Is there a silk farm up and running out there now?”

I shook my head. “No, this is fine-spun linen. It’s more robust than silk, the silk-like shine comes from the dye we use to color our fabrics. It always imparts a glossy shine,” I explained, deciding to skip over that the dye included changeling vomit as a fixative. “My hometown has a tailor, a very skilled old mare whose work is better displayed by my scarf than my robe, if I may say so.”

The mare smiled and reached for my scarf. “May I?”

I nodded and let her feel and inspect the fabric. “I haven't felt fabric this soft since I was a little filly… My grandmother had kept her wedding dress in a sealed chest… Thank you for the memory,” she said as she let go of my scarf. “Where ever are you from, darling? Would it be much trouble for me to get a catalogue? Surely your tailor sells their wares in many different towns.”

I smiled. This was it. I had them! Haha!

I nodded. “That’s actually why I am here!” I announced, still smiling. “I’m here to open trade deals between my Kingdom and your wonderful tower. We only just found a way to cross the northern mountains separating Equestria and the Crystal Empire, and my Queen is most eager to begin a mutually beneficial relationship with your nation. I cannot even begin to tell you how much of a relief it is to see there is at least one place of refinement and culture left in the Heartlands! I can tell you for a matter of fact it would be extremely distressing to many ponies in Lith if there was simply no market for artisan goods to be found.

“Why, our cities are quite full of such luxuries and our poor artisans are starting to put artistic flare into everything! Before coming down here, I saw a sculptor rearranging the street’s cobbles to be more ‘aesthetically pleasing’ if you can believe that! I’m certain our seamstresses would much rather be making ballroom gowns for you than designing ever more elaborate patches for our guard ponies.”

The room’s conversation almost immediately switched from a dull murmur to excited chatter, all of which was centered around the possibility of acquiring yet more ways to display their wealth. Success!

”If only you were that smooth in literally any other form of socializing,” Dad sighed.

Hey! I huffed in silent indigence.

The single oak door on the far side of the room opened with a gentle creek, allowing a rather flustered looking bright orange unicorn stallion to march his way out in a huff. As he passed by me, I heard him mutter something about getting them to paint his dresser drawer bottoms a different color sooner or later.

My jaw dropped.

That.

Took.

Twenty.

Bucking.

Minutes?!

The poor council ponies! They needed hugs, and coco, and blankets! And also probably a trauma therapist. And I was only barely exaggerating!

“Next, please,” A mare called from the other room, her voice sounding bitter, defeated, and broken.

The voice of a mare working in retail before the war. I knew it well from mom’s holotape collection.

I had the sudden feeling that I hadn’t exaggerated the council pony’s need for a trauma therapist in the slightest.

A tall, graying stallion dressed in a bright purple waistcoat who had been sitting near the door cleared his throat. “I propose we allow our zebra friend to take this opportunity to present her case to the Council,” he said loudly, his voice robust and clearly used to making great pronouncements in large rooms.

I blinked in surprise. Before I could decline the offer, another pony spoke up. “I agree! After all, if she can make that trade deal with the council, it benefits us all, and of course this is but step one in that process.”

“Indeed!” A mare agreed. “She’ll be here for three days before seeing somepony otherwise. Why, this arrangement is to all our benefits.”

“Yes, miss, go ahead,” a fourth pony called insistently.

I stood up slowly and offered the room a polite bow. “You have my utmost gratitude for your kindness. If you give me a list of names to take back to my Queen, I will see to it you each receive something for your generous assistance.”

I swore to Celestia the mare in the next room actually said, “The buck? They’re letting someone cut? How by Celestia’s gaping—” but that could have just been my ears playing tricks on me as I’m sure I didn’t hear a single word of what she said next.

I took a moment to straighten my robes and trotted up to the door, taking a look around to make sure nopony was objecting. Everything seemed to be fine, as I was met with nothing but approving or disinterested looks from the wealthy elites in the room, so I trotted into the Council Office.

It was a very nice room, as one would expect any room in this perfectly preserved patch of Equestria to be. Dark hardwood floors. Every single wall fully lined with ebony bookshelves, each laden with so many books the shelves bent under their weight. The only exception to the bookshelf-wall ratio was a single huge Gothic styled window which framed a massive, super comfy recliner chair set behind a horseshoe shaped desk made from a truly gorgeous wood which had all the colors of the rainbow swirling through it.

I couldn’t be sure, but I swore the colors weren't a stain or a paint, but the grain of the actual wood itself.

It suddenly hit me that I was standing in Twilight Sparkle’s personal office. I turned to look at the bookshelf to my left, wondering what the Ministry Mare’s taste in literature was. Much to my shock the first book to jump out at me was a copy of Daring Do and the Riddle of the Sphinx.

“What?” I gasped to myself. “She read those silly things?”

“Yeah, she’s got the whole set, and even an unfinished manuscript. All signed by A.K. Yearling herself, too,” a chipper mare said from somewhere in the room.

I spun back around, thoroughly embarrassed at my laps of professionalism. Facing the chair I bowed low. “My apologies, Councilmare. As a mare who grew up in a library I cannot help but wonder what books Miss Sparkle enjoyed.”

“Are you disappointed?” The mare asked.

“No, simply confused as to why a mare of her power and fame would enjoy escapist fantasy,” I said as I looked back up and saw a older filly sitting in the giant chair.

She was a little gray filly, with brown eyes, and a huge spiky poofball of dark blue mane with an electric blue streak running through it. She wasn’t dressed, which I liked. It reminded me of home. However, seemingly in lieu of clothes, she had a custom pipbuck. It had a lovely dusty-orange enameled finish, with a gemstone set in it which in an astonishing stroke of luck for her, matched her loudspeaker cutiemark precisely. That pipbuck must have cost somepony a fortune pre-war. The basic models were not cheap!

In addition to the pipbuck, the mare also had a custom sprite-bot floating next to her. It was a cute little thing. It had been given an integrated magical energy pistol, which protruded from the top of the spherical robot like a unicorn’s horn, and the barrel had even been painted with a horn spiral pattern. The bot itself had been painted gray and brown, with a cartoonish smiling mare’s face painted over the sensor grill.

I blinked twice.

“Excuse me, miss, but, how old are you?” I asked hesitantly.

She smiled, “Thirty two. I know, I’m an itty bitty not-a-filly. It’s fine, most ponies make the same mistake.”

Thank Celestia it’s not just me! I smiled and trotted up to her desk. Twilight’s Desk. I couldn’t help but notice there was no seat for guests.

“Never thought I’d see the day that bunch let a non-resident cut in line. Much less a zebra,” the mare remarked to herself as I trotted up to her desk.

I pursed my lips at her remark. “I noticed the sign about ghouls, and the um… Butler, was very rude. Is the distaste for zebras close to the point where a ban on our entry could be implemented?”

“Not a chance,” the mare said with a smirk and a wave of her hoof. “We may have to keep these old farts happy enough to not revolt, but things are slowly changing. You can't just take apart two hundred years of culture and tradition overnight. Even if it’s regressive as hell.”

I nodded and cleared my throat. “May I introduce myself? My name is Whirling Gears, I am a Royal Courier in service to the Kingdom of Lith.”

The mare sputtered, looking up at my face for what felt like the first time since we’d begun talking. I couldn’t blame her, I was about a head and a half taller than her while she was sitting.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Homage,” she introduced holding out her hoof.

I reached out and shook her hoof, glad to have a face for the name.

”Ask her about the painting,” imaginary dad begged.

Later, I promised.

“Welcome to Tenpony Tower, I’m the on duty representative of the Twilight Society Council—” Homage trailed off as she looked up at a clock hung up on the boundary between two bookshelves. “... For the next hour. My shift ends after that. If this will take longer than an hour, somepony else will have to continue, or we could put a pin in it and pick things back up tomorrow. Is that acceptable?”

I nodded. “Of course. I do not think I’ll take more than ten minutes of your time, Miss Homage,” I said with a polite bow.

Homage gasped her pupils dilating with laser focus on my face as she smiled. “I love you!”

I looked back up, eyes wide. “W— What?!”

Homaged waved a hoof for me to carry on. “I just spent an hour and a half telling a stallion no repeatedly to getting the bottom sides of his dresser drawers repainted. That was a reflexive response to hearing a reasonable amount of time for a meeting. Please continue, don’t mind me.”

I blinked, unable to find my train of thought because, “But… You don’t even see the undersides of—”

“Yep! Please, let’s not talk about that,” Homage begged, giving me the most system-wrenching pair of Sweetie Eyes I’d ever seen.

I complied.

“As I said before, my name is Whirling Gears. I am here on behalf of Her Majesty Queen Katydid of Lith, a kingdom across the mountains on your northern border, born from the remains of the Crystal Empire among other nations and tribes. We recently discovered a traversable route to the Equestrian Heartlands and learned civilization had survived the war here as well. Her Majesty has sent me to deliver a ‘hello’ to every community within the Heartlands, as well as propose some basic trade deals.”

Homage nodded. “Sounds like we have more to talk about than you thought. That’s a heck of a claim, can you prove it?”

I smiled. “Of course I can! It would be easier if I was allowed to bring my weapons into your Tower. They are unique energy weapons we developed post-war… Er, it is. I lost one fighting a war robot at Sire's Hollow three days ago.”

Homage ears perked. “Woah, hold on, you’re The Machine!?”

I blushed deeply and coughed. “Well, I don’t have a nickname, but yes. That was me.”

“You have one now,” Homage said, making my bush deepen. “Nice work back there! I’ve heard the whole story, it takes a special kind of pony to face one of those things even with the right tools for the job. Heck, Pip was nearly killed by one and she was basically bulletproof in her prime.”

”The painting! The ask! The do!” Dad pleaded.

This time I couldn’t resist. “Wait, you’re Homage! There’s a painting given to you out in the tower’s entry… Why isn’t it inside?”

Homage closed her eyes tightly and sighed. “I want nothing to do with the Pipites. Pip herself told them to knock it off, and they didn’t. They constantly harass me to pass their prayers on to her, and worst of all, that painting of her isn’t even close to how she really looks!”

“Oh,” I began. “That’s quite reason—”

“She’s twice that hot!” Homage insisted thumping her hoof against the desk. 

I had nothing to say. So I just stared at her in surprise as her face slowly split into a joking smile. “I’m kidding I’m kidding… Three times,” Homage said with a wink.

I smiled back. Ice thoroughly broken, I cleared my throat. “For proving my story, I could do what I’ve done for the last two mayors and show them a radio my people have made which will be yours to keep. Or, I could tell you the whole story and you could judge the evidence for yourself.”

Homage hummed and looked back up at the clock, then nodded to herself. “You know what? Let’s run out the clock. I’ve had enough snobs thinking that the Council Room is for clogged drains and I have the evening news to do later. I’d like to be relaxed before getting to it.”

Gears blinks. “Oh yes! You have mass-communication down here. Tell me, is it just radio or are you able to broadcast television as well?”

“Technically both,” Homage said. “But good luck finding a working TV or terminal out there in the Wasteland. How about you start by telling me about your homeland. What’s this Lith like?”

I took a moment to think of a good way to start, then began telling the story of my kingdom’s founding.


☢★★◯★★☢


“... so we split up so she wouldn’t have to come to the tower, and here I am,” I finished.

Homage hummed and shrugged. “Well, parts of that are a little incredible. Not more so than most of the wild things that can happen in the wasteland, but I’ve got a gut feeling about you,” she remarked.

“What’s that mean?” I asked with a worried frown.

“I’m means that I think I’ll have a look at that radio n—”

Homage’s sprite-bot chirped loudly, emitted a burst of static, then suddenly spoke in a mare’s voice. “Hi, love…”

Whoever that mare was, she sounded very, very ill. Not sick ill, dying ill. Her voice alone made me shiver and wince, remembering the time mom’s left lung and right kidney went offline for a week.

Homage’s eyes went wide as a heap of conflicting emotions ran across her face, eventually settling on joy. She flashed me a quick apologetic smile as she turned to face her robot. “Give me a minute, please? This is very, very important.”

“Of course,” I said, doing my best to step back with a bow to give her space.

Her highness reacted very poorly to being interrupted with unimportant news, and this sounded like it might be that poor mare’s last moments… I wasn’t about to interrupt them.

To my surprise, Homage reared up, hugged her robot, and then sat back down. “Hi, sweetie! How’s your day? Feeling any better?”

“No… Is it the same day this time?” The mare asked.

Homage shook her head slowly. “No. It’s been two days.”

“Oh… Did Dresser Drawer Stallion give you a hard time again this week?”

“Heh, yeah, he just left. I’m almost off duty… Think you can stay awake for,” homage paused to glance at the clock. “Ten minutes? We could go on a walk, I could show you this cool mystery vault in a skyscraper near the base of the tower. According to a trustworthy source, it hasn’t opened since the megaspells dropped. I can see you now, having a blast trying to pick your way in…”

The mare speaking through the sprite bot laughed, then coughed. Wet coughed. Poor thing.

“I— I don’t think I can… Sorry, love,” she apologized.

Homage looked down sadly then hugged her robot again. “I’ll go take a look later, tell you what’s in it. I'll make sure P!P stores video for you to see later.”

“Thanks, Homage,” the mare said quietly.

To my surprise the bot turned slightly, aiming its sensors at me only for the mare to exclaim, “Hey! I know you! You’re the mare who saved Sire’s Hollow. What’s she here for, hon?”

“Oh, uh, opening a trade deal,” Homage answered for me, her ears flicking in frustration. “Apparently there’s a kingdom up north that wants to trade with us.”

Horseapples! I interrupted their thing. Noooo! I’m sorry!

“Well, she took on an ultra-sentinel and eighteen bandits with just one other pony for backup, and all the backup was doing was sniping. She took the bot on by herself,” the bot zipped over the desk to move over to me. “I’d have given my left hind leg for a mare like you fourteen years ago! That was amazing!”

I blushed. “It was mostly luck…”

“Yeah she mentioned that,” Homage remarked, her ears perking back up. “You can confirm that this was her?”

“Um, yes? There’s no way two zebra mares have her, uh… Body type,” the mare said, laughing briefly before falling into a coughing fit.

I took another step back and turned the bot around to face Homage, mouthing ‘sorry’.

“Good to know… Have you seen her anywhere else? Like, coming down from the north?”

“Yep. She’s traveling with that one ghoul who keeps yelling things up into the cameras right when I look at them… It’s the weirdest thing!”

I snickered, having finally worked out who the mare was. “Hee! You really do notice all of her rants.”

”How did it take you this long?” dad asked with a laugh.

You’re supposed to support your filly! I protested.

”Dads get to laugh when their kids are silly fillies.”

“Yep!” Pip confirmed. “I don't know how or why, but yep!”

Homage cleared her throat. “So, important question, hon… Can I trust Gears?”

“Absolutely!” Pip said with enthusiasm. 

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry to remain the focus of what is definitely a limited time conversation, but, how do you see things out in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’m the Toaster Repair pony. It’s a job perk,” Pip said with a laugh which was followed by another rasping wet cough. “Ew… Sorry about that… I wish I could see over the northern mountains from here… It would be nice to know for certain if anypony is living up there.”

Oh! I could get her to confirm that Lith was real for Homage real quick! What was my emergency comm frequency? That’s right!

“If you can see the Spur Mountains, look for my airship atop one of the mountains,” I instructed quickly. “Tune a radio to 27.989 Mhz and broadcast at the ship. It will be relayed through to Lith.”

“You’ve set up a radio? I’ll give it a sho—” The bot pip was speaking through suddenly cracked hissed, then fell silent.

My ears fell. I’d soaked up most of their time… I felt horrible. Just... Thoroughly horrible.

Homage sighed and hung her head for a moment. “She’s getting worse…”

“May I ask what exactly happened?” I asked with an apologetic frown. “To put her in such a critical sounding condition, I mean.”

Homage looks at me for a long moment. Her brown eyes teared up slightly, then she looked away. “You really aren't from Equestria, are you?”

I paused then shrugged. “Uh, well… Kinda? I was born here, a long time ago. Then my family went north.”

Homage nodded and gave her bot a loving pat on the chassis. “So, before Pip then? Well… That was Littlepip, my wife. She’s entered in a stasis pod for medical reasons. I modified P-not-P so she could see, hear, and speak through it, so that we could talk while she was in the pod… Her— She— I…”

“Her health is failing in spite of the pod?” I asked incredulously. “How is that possible?”

Homage sighed and slumped in her seat. “Yeah. It's not like, an auto-doc. Or even a real stasis pod. It can’t be… The pony in it has to be able to see things happening in real time. It just sort of slows your body down.”

This begged the question of why she called it as stasis pod to begin with, but I wasn't about to bring that up to a mare on the verge of tears. Homage sighed and stared down at the desk. Knowing I was probably breaking professional conduct protocols, I trotted around her desk and have her a quick but firm hug.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I let go of the tiny mare. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling… I’ve never even had a lover, much less one some ponies think is a god, who is… In poor health. But, I do have a mother, and she is often very sick. I’ve taken care of her for a very very long time. So, I have an idea of how you feel, and I’m sorry.”

Homage sniffled and wiped her eyes clear before looking back up at me. She took a deep breath, let it out and began to just, unpack things.

“So, she really needs to be in the pod,” Homage began. “Short version: Pip did a lot for Equestria and got hurt so many times in just a few months that… Well, a mare’s body can only take so much, you know? Radiation. Taint. Bullets. Fire. Lasers. Plasma. She’s been hit by everything at least twice.

“Maybe a healthy mare could have taken that and pulled through with all the healing potions and surgery Pip got but… But her Stable was… Well, it was filled almost completely with the apple family at the start of the war. Pip doesn't exactly have healthy genes to work with. She is small, like me… A bit shorter, actually. Even a small bullet can do a lot of damage to a pony my size.”

Homage closed her eyes tightly. I hugged her again. She continued.

“I used to get to visit her. The first few years she could leave the pod for a few days, or even a week, whenever I had free time and we thought ponies could handle unmanaged weather, she’d come out for a date night. But every time she left… Her body would get worse and worse. We had to see each other less. At first just once a month. Then every other month. Then on my birthday and for a few hours here and there. Then just my birthday…

“That was… Almost okay. Now she hasn’t left in three years and sounds like she’s going to die any day now! We’re in an open relationship, and she’s begged me to find somepony to help me deal with her condition but… I… I can’t! I have my type and it’s rarer than raider mercy! I miss hugs!” Homage choked back a sob.

”Gears?” Dad asked.

Yes?

”Do not stop hugging that pony.”

Wasn’t planning on it.

“She could talk to me even though she couldn’t leave. We’d spend hours just talking. But over the last year…”

Gears winces. “She’s less and less responsive?”

“Yeah… I think she’s dying,” Homage said, slumping in her chair as her ears just fell flat.

”Luna’s tits! Gears, engage maximum hug!”

I made sure to maintain my hug levels at maximum. Or, at least, at max with my missing pump. “That is terrible. I remember losing my father. He was a good stallion, and my nation remembers him as a hero. If what I've heard of Pip’s exploits are true, he would barely be a blip on the radar—”

”I beg to differ! I made sure a crazy mare and her filly could save Equestria’s technological progress, and saved a whole kingdom by throwing myself into an exploding proto-megaspell! We’re at least on par with each other, thank you very much!” 

Being diplomatic, dad!

”Oh… Sorry.”

“— I understand what it's like to lose a loved one who left big horseshoes to fill.”

Homage’s smile shakily returned, and I could sense she wanted to talk about anything else now.

“Who was your dad?” She asked curiously. “You said you were born here, and I’ve spent most of my life exploring the wasteland. You can't be much older than me. Maybe I know him?”

I blushed and coughed into my hoof. “I’m… Older than I look.”

Homage shrugged. “Looking great, then! I hope I age that well. Anyways, I still know a lot of stuff. I am DJ Pon3 after all.”

I blinked. “That’s right, you are! It’s easy to forget that when you have such a cute voice and the DJ Pon3 one is so distinct.”

Homage blushed and squirmed in my forelegs. “Yeah… Everypony knows who I am now but it used to be an alter-ego thing and, well, I keep it up. For tradition’s sake.”

I nodded and considered telling her dad’s name. Maybe some little bit of his pre-war legacy remained in his homeland? “Does the name Sargent Hydraulic “Jack” Lift mean anything to you?”

Homage’s ears perked, then dropped, and she shook her head. “Afraid not.”

I sighed and let go of Homage, realizing I’d been hugging her for over a full minute. That was probably awkward of me…

“Few outside Pomare would,” I said with a smile as I took a step back and Homage scooted her chair closer to me to make up the distance.

What? But, why?

“I thought there’d be a chance somepony might remember him here,” I continued “But that’s okay. He left his mark, and I still remember him. I know it hurts, but when Pip is gone, there’s apparently a whole religion that will remember her.”

Homage groaned and covered her eyes with her hooves. “Oh, Goddesses saggy teats! Them… We tried so hard to explain to them that she’s not a Goddess but that’s pretty hard to do when a seemingly immortal mare who sees all can control the weather with a thought.”

Oh. Right. She hated the Pipites… Oops.

I decided to swiftly change the subject. “I need to hear the whole story one of these days.”

Homage managed to put on a clearly fake smile for my sake. “Can you read? I have a copy of her book. If you can stay here for a while I’d be happy to let you read it.”

My ears perked. “I can read! I grew up in a library. I think I mentioned that.”

Suddenly three knocks came from the door. Homage cleared her throat and looked over to the door. “Come in!”

A taller white earth pony stallion wearing a silver vest opened the door and cleared his throat. “You shift is over Homage. I’ll pick things up from here with our… Visitor?” He asked looking at me with a frown.

Homage snapped out of her mild depression so fast it made me swear she had the ability to just choose to not be sad. “No. Pip just confirmed her story for me and everyone will want to hear this! Gears, would you mind waiting ‘til this evening after dinner? Then you can tell everyone else what you told me and we can bypass a whole bunch of red tape.”

There was a way around the bureaucracy?! ALL OF MY YES!

“I would be happy to, but I do have my companion waiting for me… She’s given me a day, I’m not sure if that means the daylight day, or twenty four hours. Could somepony bring her a message updating her on things?”

“Sure can,” Homage promised as she stood up and looked over to the stallion. “Seat’s all yours! Enjoy your daily chat with Insufficiently Polished Silverware Mare.”

“I will not,” he grumbled as he moved to take the chair.

Homage turned to look at me. “I’m hungry, you hungry? I’d like to buy you lunch,” she offered with a surprisingly cute smile.

I couldn't say no to that smile. “I don’t need to eat right now, but I would enjoy a drink. We could keep talking while you eat and I enjoy some wine, or perhaps an ale. I imagine there must be some alcohol in a place this posh, and I would thoroughly enjoy the treat.”

“Sounds like a date!” Homage said with a smile. “Come on, I know a great wine shop on the market floor.”


☢★★◯★★☢


When Homage had said wine shop I didn’t think she meant an actual dedicated store in a pre-war shopping mall with a full stock of wine bottles on display. This little shop had at least a dozen varieties of wine, but I couldn’t help but notice most of the bottles for sale were filled with the gross pink wine from Sire’s Hollow… And being sold at a huge markup.

Astonishingly, it seemed popular here. I saw three ponies leaving the store with a bottle of it as Homage and I came in.

Homage helped me pick out the strongest bottle they had and we went to the counter to pay, chatting as we had been the whole time.

“This is nice,” Homage said with a smile. “I haven’t gotten to go shopping with somepony like you in years.”

“You used to know a zebra?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

Homage just laughed. I guess I said something funny.

We reached the counter and I set my bottle on top. The clerk was a rather cute older stallion. Dark brown fur, gold rimmed glasses, a little floppy hat… Exactly the kind of pony you see in storybooks as the character who sells whimsical toys.

“Neighcardi Ice… A good choice!” The shopkeeper praised before smiling at homage. “Special evening planned?”

She shook her head. “No, just a nice lunch.”

The shopkeeper turned to look at me, then nodded in approval and turned back to the bottle, then snapped back to me and focused on my courior’s pin. “Pardon me,” he said lightning fast. “But is that a Changeling Imperial Crest laid over the Crystal Empire sigil?”

I smiled, impressed somepony recognized the heraldry of Lith. “Yes it is! How did you know?”

“I see both those crests all the time, miss!” He chuckled. “I’ve sold plenty of ancient wines, liquors, and meads from that part of the world. There used to be quite a bit of export. Say what you will about changelings, but they brewed some top quality beverages!”

They so did! I could go for a bottle of double distilled joy right now.

“Where did you find that pin?” The shopkeeper asked curiously.

“Oh, it’s my badge for work. I’m a courier for Lith, a kingdom from up north. We formed from the remains of the Changeling and Crystal Empires.”

Homage smiled and chimed in. “Best part is, she’s here on business! Looks like the north survived too. They've just been cut off for a few centuries by… What was it? Bloodice?”

“Among other things,” I confirmed.

“We just might be able to trade for bottles of Big O in a few months!” Hommage finished with an eager smile

The shopkeeper’s eyes lit up. “Those sell for so much!”

I blushed deeply. “I was always too shy to try those…”

Homage’s tail flagged… Understandable, given we were talking about a drink that is magically liquefied ‘great sex’ in a bottle.

“Y— you know how to make them?” She stammered

“Me? No. Our distillery? Yes. I’ll tell her majesty you have an interest in our alcoholic beverages,” I promised.

The shopkeeper beamed me a smile and looked over at Homage. “Tell you what, just for that ray of hope, we’ll take a quarter off the price of this bottle.”

Homage nodded took a small bag from a hidden pocket in her mane to pay for my drink, I remembered I was still wearing my robes, and realized I was running a little hot.

“Hold on, I’m getting a bit warm,” I said to her as I quickly shrugged out of my robes and began packing them away.

Homage took a sidelong glance at me undressing as she payed. A sidelong glance that turned into an intense stare that made me blush.

Homage turned away and finished paying while whispering to her sprite-bot. “P!P, record and send to Pip, ‘Hon, look! Some ponies actually do look like the mares in Swordmare! I didn’t think that was possible!”

I felt my left eye twitch.

AGAIN! With that comparison! It’s not my fault I was a dumb kid and have a mom who doesn't know much about sex and sex appeal! I—

I realized that Homage had been flirting with me. This entire time.

Oh.

Um…

Processing...

I felt my core humm happily. It was nice to be found attractive but… But the coin toss! 

”Toss it again…” Dad pushed gently.

Homage took the bottle with her magic, and carried it at her side as she turned to leave. “There’s a great restaurant just down the hall!”

Quick! Say something so she knows you’re not on a date but are just hanging out.

“So, are you hoping to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?” I asked with a friendly smile and flick of my tail.

I hear imaginary dad slow clap in my head. I wasn't sure what that meant.

Homage giggled and shook her head. “If what they said you drank back in Sire’s Hollow is true, I don’t think you can get drunk… But I can!”

“I can’t,” I confessed, hoping to change the subject.

“Good. That means we only need to worry about me operating on drunk logic,” Homage said coyly.

Oh, Celestia, no! I bucked that up!

”Eeyup!”

Please, Celestia, a distraction, anything! Anything will do! I FLIPPED A COIN FOR BUCK’S SAKE!

”You are the only pony to ever take those seriously,” Dad said with a quiet laugh.

Homage blushed and looked away from me for a moment.

Nooo! Please! Distraction! Anything! I don’t know how to flirt with a mare! Help!

”Come to think of it, this is the only coin flip you take seriously. Why?”

Because they are prettier and way way way harder to talk to than stallions when I like them!

“HERETICS!” Somepony screamed at the top of their lungs.

Thank, Celestia!

Wait, what? Heretics?

Suddenly a mare screamed, then a stallion, then a stampede of ponies rushed past Homage and I, diving for cover and ducking into any available space which wasn’t the mall’s plaza. Their evacuation revealed a tall zebra stallion.

He looked much like any other zebra. Black with white stripes. No stripes on his belly or legs. A mane of dreadlocks. He was wearing a crude approximation of a stable jumpsuit made from post-war fabrics… Was he a Pipite? Is that what they dressed like? That would make sense.

Now that I thought about it, he reminded me vaguely of the stallion who’d taught me how to brew potions.

But that wasn’t important. What was important was he was wearing a pair of overstuffed saddlebags, and holding a small remote with his hoof ready to slam down on the button. The remote’s wires lead into the saddle bags…

Buck. Okay. Suicide bomber! Maybe we can make it to cover in time to— Wait...

Why were his bags flowing to my spiritual senses? What was in those? Some… Evocation… fire magic… necroman— 

OH! BUCK! BALEFIRE! A LOT OF IT!

I had no choice. I had to do something, and I really only had one option.

The zebra glared around the plaza, right into all the nooks and crannies, then directly at Homage who was paralyzed in fear... Could she sense the balefire eggs too?

“You shall profane Her Love’s home with your racist ways no longer!” The zebra bellowed, and raised his hoof to slam it down on the detonator lone red button.

I focused all of my attention on the detonator, and fired my eye laser. The ruby ray lanced outwards, boiling away the surface of my eye and striking the zebra in his hoof. The low powered laser vaporized most of the flesh holding it onto his body, and his own pained shriek and jerk backwards ripped the rest of the hoof from his bones in a grisly spray of blood and broiled viscera.

If I had a stomach, it would have turned.

Suddenly, Homage threw the bottle she’d been carrying. It sailed through air and cracked the zebra across the skull, shattering in a spray of glass and pungent wine.

The zebra staggered backwards, screaming, bleeding from his leg-stump and forehead. To my horror he staggered back to a balanced stance and reared up to smash his remaining forehoof onto the detonator button.

I was still recharging. We were dead.

A pair of assault rifles opened up, their sharp reports echoed off the plaza’s walls as a pair of guards opened fire on the zebra, bludgeoning him into unconsciousness with what seemed like enough rubber bullets to KO a dragon.

Thank you, Celestia!

I raised a hoof to my eye to cover it, hoping nopony saw underneath… But Homage had. I could tell by how she was looking at my face and… Grinning?

“That was bucking awesome!” She exclaimed with a toothy grin.

She… Liked… Machines? Huh? But, why? How? Who?

”Seriously, Gears, she said open relationship and needs hugs! Re-flip that coin!”

My confusion was interrupted by one of the tow guards who pointed at me with her left hoof. “I told you they could shoot lasers from their eyes, Fifty! I bucking told you!”

The other guard aimed his rifle at me. “Ma’am? I’m afraid you need to come with me.”

I frowned. The fur on the back of Homage neck stood up.

“And why does she?” She demanded.

I knew why.

“Two zebras show up in the same day, one of them claims to be for a foreign land, then saves us from a Pipette attack of all things? Stinks to high heaven,” she said before looking at me… And training her rifle on my barrel. “Ma’am… I'm taking you in for questioning. You can come quietly, or be dragged.”

I felt my eye start to regenerate. “I’ll come quietly. I have nothing to hide, nor to do with that monster… You need to disconnect that detonator immediately! His bags contain balefire eggs. I can sense the necromancy from here!”

The other guard moved over to the stallion and carefully checked inside his left bag. “Yikes! She’s right, sir!”

“Shit! Cut those cables, Gauge!” The guard aiming at me insisted. He looked over to Homage. “See? Suspicious.”

“Not really? Zebras can sense spirits…” She muttered, knowing the guard wouldn’t listen.

I lowered my hoof as I felt my eye finish healing. “Lead the way sir,” I said politely.

He nodded, shouldered his rifle and turned to walk towards his partner, who lifted the unconscious zebra, but not his bags, with his magic.

As the two led me back into the servant's passages, once out of sight, I saw Fifty pass Gauge a bag. A bag exactly the same as the 20 cap bags Sky had given me before.

“You called the eye lasers… But there’s no way they heal wounds in seconds,” Fifty muttered to Gauge.

Even though I was under arrest, I couldn't help but smile at how I’d accidentally cemented a piece of ancient Equestrian propaganda…