I don’t know how long I was out, but when I woke up I was staring at a pair of dark blue hooves. They weren’t that of a dark blue coat. They were painted metal from a very familiar suit of power armor.
“Well, lookie who we have here.” a disguised, robotic voice said down to me.
“Mysterious Mare-do-well?” I asked groggily.
“Jibwee Jot, such fun.” Mare-do-well stated, “Long time no chat. What brings you out here?”
I pushed myself to my hooves. My muscles had annoyingly gone stiff again, so it wasn't easy. I wonder if ghouls have to deal with the same thing when they wake up? I turned to regard the strange mare. Ok I wasn’t sure of Mare-do-well’s gender through the odd purple and blue power armor she wore, but the voice sounded somewhat feminine. She never corrected me, so I was pretty sure I guessed right way back when we met.
Mare-do-well was one of my most reliable sources. I’ve lost count how many stories she has helped me on or how many times she has rescued me from a sticky situation. Appearing from seemingly nowhere and vanishing just as quickly, but always causing huge breaks in my stories. Sure I’d be a horrible journalist if I didn’t confirm the documents and rumors she brought to me, but always they were solid leads. The last time we’d talked was shortly before Bread Crumbs dropped off the map.
“How did you find me?” I asked, “How do you always find me?”
“That is for me to know and you to endlessly wonder about.” She chuckled, “So you gonna answer my question?”
I sighed, “Figuring out why no one in the wastes can die.”
The mare rocked back and forth on her hooves, “Wouldn’t that land you dead?”
“Right where I’d rather be,” I sighed, “with Noted. I thought the execution would end it all.”
I levitated the hat off to reveal the missing back half of my head. Mare-do-well looked away at the sight. I imagined she was making a disgusted face beyond the hatted helmet of her armor. A moment later she inquisitively poked the wound with a hoof. Pain shot through my body, almost causing me to fall to the ground again. Noticing my look, she pulled her hoof away, a small bit of my brain stuck to the bottom of it. I put my torn hat back on my head as she wiped my brain chunk off her hoof with a piece of rubble.
“And what of the buck you were with?” She asked.
“Wha-what?” I stammered, the question catching me off guard. “He was captured by slavers.”
“I saw.” she said, as if my statement had only confirmed it. And you didn’t help? “Are you gonna save him?” she continued.
“I,” I began, “I don’t know. Abide was more or less my guard.”
“Ah, thought he looked familiar.” She mused, “Heh, big bad police chief not letting you off so easily even after your execution.” I simply glared at my contact. “Their camp is three miles that way.” Mare-do-well told me, pointing a hoof northwest, “You gonna save him?”
“Ex-chief. He resigned.” I corrected her, “Why would I do that? He wouldn't let me have a gun. If I’d had one, he wouldn’t have gotten captured. He is no better than a stable pony. He can die for all I care.”
“Will he?” she replied, “Did you?”
I hadn’t. The whole wasteland had ceased dying. “No matter the gravity of the wound, even those shot in the head have been gifted with the inability to die.” DJ Pon-3 had said.
“Then he can become undead like me. I could care less about him.” I answered.
“Having a friend is sometimes better than a weapon out there in the wastes.” Mare-do-well quoted the ‘Companions and Comrades’ chapter of the Wasteland Survival Guide, “No need to travel a lonely road.”
"Its not fair to quote the WSG to me." I spat, "You know my history with Ditzy."
"Funny thing words, they alter meaning depending on the order." Mare-do-well explained, "Take 'I could care less', that means you do care, at least a little." With that she trotted off and vanished behind a collapsed building.
I glanced at my pipbuck’s map, found New Appleoosa and started trotting. I checked my inventory as I walked, thankfully the slavers hadn’t bothered to loot my ‘dead’ body. New Appleloosa was on the fringe edge of NCR territory, but the application to be part of the NCR has been in limbo for years. It was also the home of the esteemed Wasteland Survival Guide author, Ditzy Doo. I hoped to get a new copy of the S & R edition to replace the one that was shot. She might even sign it – Though she had been bashful about signing them the first time.
That slaver camp is dangerously close to New Appleloosa. I thought looking at the fact I was heading roughly the direction Mare-do-well had pointed. The act of slaving was outlawed in the NCR, but still desperate ponies did it. This far out they weren't going to be stopped by an NCR patrol. They could take out New Appleloosa and the NCR couldn’t mobilize troops fast enough to help, not that they would since they weren’t NCR controlled yet. I stopped at the thought. There are likely more than seven back at their camp. I smacked my face with my hoof. Not my problem. Not. My. Proble–
“Dammit Abide!!” I shouted out loud to myself.
*** *** ***
15. There were 15 ponies at the camp. Well, a mix of ponies and a griffon from what I could see in the blue light of twilight. There were cages with another 10 or so ponies in them arranged around a fire pit. This was all confirmed by the friendly and hostile markers on my EFS. There were also two large, green tents on the side of the fire closest to my vantage point. I couldn’t see Abide, but chances were good he was there – unless Mare-do-well lied to me, and based on experiences she was not lying.
I was unarmed, unarmored – my wool coat wasn't good for stopping bullets – and outnumbered. Oh and I was also a walking corpse, not like a ghoul, but like a dead body that shouldn’t be alive by any means magic or otherwise. A shot to the head and I’d be dead weight...literally. This was not gonna be easy.
On my way to the camp I looted several ammo crates from a downed military transport. I found it odd they hadn’t been looted in the last 235 years of the wasteland. Maybe it was because they were locked, but I read that the Lightbringer and a companion of Security were skilled lock pickers. The area around New Appleloosa was vast, so maybe those ponies and others capable of lock picking had not found the crates to unlock them. Unfortunately, there were no long range weapons. There were just two matrix disruption grenades – one a rare, overcharged matrix disruption grenade – three frag grenades, a mine, and loads of ammo for guns I didn’t have. So allow me to correct myself, I was lightly armed, unarmored, and outnumbered.
I waited for one of the slavers to leave the camp to use the bathroom. The buck was wearing heavy, leather barding. I couldn't make out his coat or mane in the dwindling light. He began to relieve himself and I threw one of the matrix disruption grenades. Under normal circumstances they would be ineffective against flesh and blood ponies. Depending on the voltage, they might knock a pony out. This one was the overcharged voltage type, capable of at least stunning a pony – as long as you got them in contact with water first. It let out a burst of static, startling the peeing pony. Before he could react properly, the sparks climbed the stream and he splashed in the puddle of his own pee.
Wrinkling my nose I picked over the unconscious slaver. I left his armor. I had no need or want to smell like slaver piss, but I did take his very beat up and unkept shotgun, all the 20 gauge shots he had, and his combat knife. To be safe I slit his throat. A dead slaver is better than leaving him unconscious. One down, 14 to go.
From the buck I moved silently into the camp. This was not my first rodeo. An undercover investigation into the new occupants of Old Appleloosa a year back revealed it was still a slaver town. I’d gotten in, got my evidence, and gotten out without anypony noticing. With my proof, and the article printed in the Tribune, the NCR troopers returned to set the town straight. I didn’t have NCR troopers this time. I had to be even sneakier, but I could harm or kill them this time and free the slaves before they were sold.
I slipped into the first tent. There were no slavers in there, just a few bedrolls. Two slavers entered the other end of the tent. A buck and a mare. They were both purple with blond manes. They were likely siblings, which made what they were doing very confusing. They were making out with lustful fervor. Both were very drunk from the smell of whiskey on them. If they knew they were related, they didn’t care. Good thing they were so into each other that they didn’t see me gawking. BANG! BANG! Two more slavers dropped. Unfortunately, the double barrel shotgun was not quiet.
I threw the mine on the ground in the center of the tent and exited the way I came. Four slavers entered the tent to see who was attacking. BWOOM! I looked at my EFS, 1 blip still remained. The unicorn mare exited the tent. Shrapnel blinding one of her eyes. Blood dripped on her brown coat. She still had enough concentration to hold her 10mm pistol. I activated the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell and time slowed to a crawl.
"Welcome Princess to the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell tutorial." a mare's voice filled my ears.
Hold on, what?
"Welcome Princess to the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell, also called SATS, tutorial." the voice said again, before continuing, "A helpful spell used to assist in combat encounters."
Ok, um will you let me use the spell?
"To activate the spell, simply tense up during a combat encounter." the voice went on.
Yeah, I know that. It's how I got here. I really do not have time for this!
"Once the spell is active, simply select the the target area of the attacker." The voice droned, unaware of my frustrated protests. "Each target area will display a percent. This percent is the calculated chance of hitting the target with the selected weapon."
Finally, the rest of the spell activated. The slaver's body became outlined in blue. Each section of her body was highlighted with a percent chance to hit. Finally! I toggled a bullet to her head, but the pipbuck informed me that the shotgun would not fire. Damn.
"Broken weapon equipped." The voice replied, "Do you wish to change weapon, Princess?"
Yes.
"While in SATS. If the weapon is damaged beyond use or you simply wish to change weapon, think 'innovatory' to access the organization spell." The voice explained. I complied.
A blue window opened in my vision displaying the contents of my bag. I toggled with my mind to my weapons. Aside from the shotgun, I had the frag grenades, the normal voltage matrix disruption grenade, and the combat knife. The grenades wouldn't be helpful in close combat, so I selected the knife. The rusted blade appeared in my frozen telekinesis. Did it teleport it from my bag? I targeted her head, 56% chance to hit. The spell released and she shot her gun. The bullet grazed my ear as I moved in SATS assisted accuracy to slit her throat. She flopped to the ground gargling on her blood. A moment later she stopped breathing.
I turned as another bullet impacted the tent. Four more slavers were coming up behind me. I picked up the mare’s discarded pistol. I frowned as I saw there were only three bullets in the chamber. I activated SATS. Thankfully the tutorial appeared to be over, but the spell hadn't recharged fully. I was only able to cue in two bullets. I selected the first slaver – an earth pony buck – and targeted the head. I moved to select the head of the pegasus mare hovering just above the buck as well. Time resumed and the spell had me pull the trigger. BANG! A bullet hole that mirrored the one on my forehead appeared on the buck – ok it was smaller than mine, but it was in roughly the same place. The second shot missed and the pegasus tackled me to the ground. I shoved the combat knife into her stomach and twisted. Her face contorted into an agonizing, wordless scream as her body stilled.
Pushing the mare off me, I faced my next attacker. SATS was still recharging, but I didn’t need it to stab the griffon as he pounced at me. My red magic thrust the blood coated knife in the back of his head as his pounce over shot my form. He landed dead in the tent behind me knocking it over. That made 10 down, 5 more to go. If they keep attacking one by one or in small groups, I’ll be fine.
In the moment it took me to mentally tally the remaining slavers, the fourth of the newest group tackled me. At first I thought it was an earth pony, but as the glow of the fire flickered I saw stripes. This was a zebra. No wonder they were unarmed. If I didn’t think quickly I’d at the very least be facing a broken bone or two. At worst I’d die, again, but I guessed it would likely not be permanent. The zebra mare used her momentum to roll back to her hooves, me in tow, and snapped my rear, left leg. Had I been completely alive, I’d be in a lot of pain. It hurt, but only dully like the execution shot in my head.
I pushed away and balanced on three hooves. I panted out of habit. My lungs were back in the Junction City morgue. The mare popped a yellow pill into her mouth before her next attack. Fuck! Doombunny Style. The mare charged, the foamy froth on her lips denoting Buck was the drug of choice. Her hoof attack was aimed at my stomach. Twine gave way and her hoof got caught in my chest cavity. This was something she had not expected. To be fair, no pony until myself pranced around without internal organs and lived. I smiled, she grimaced.
“What are you?” she asked.
I answered her by grabbing her neck and twisting. With all my strength I pulled until her neck snapped and she fell limp. That made 11.
I glanced around the camp for my next attacker. None came. Had I miscounted? Did the others flee? I felt a small rumble beneath my hooves. A new blip appeared in my EFS and it clicked. There were 16 slavers: 15 ponies, zebras and griffons, and one hellhound. I jumped out of the way and fell onto my side as I tried to stand on my broken leg. How do I kill a hellhound?!
I stood and faced him, it was too late to just leave and go to New Appleloosa. He fired a shot with his magic energy weapon. It went wide and struck my fedora. It glowed pink and disintegrated. Damn him to tartarus, I liked that hat! To the hellhound’s credit, he looked shocked to see the bullet hole in my head.
I took the moment to attack and cued up SATS, as it had finally recharged. I knew from my encyclopedic knowledge of the WSG that hellhounds were tough foes. Instead of targeting his hide I targeted his gun. “If you ever have to take on a hellhound, keep your distance. Their claws are one of their most deadly features, but only in close combat. Their hides are also very tough, only magic energy seems to cause any significant damage. The one weak point is their choice of weapons. The magical energy weapons they use are highly augmented and very unstable. A lucky shot to their gun might cause it to explode.”
The spell resolved and I moved in for a single strike to the gun, before dancing nimbly out of the way of his claw swipe. A few cut strands of amber mane fell from my head as I backed away. He growled and tried to fire his weapon again, only to have it explode in his face. When the after image faded, the hellhound lay in a gory heap. 12 down, 4 to go.
Before I got attacked again, I looted the dead slavers. The hellhound and zebra had little, but the rest had some badly damaged weapons, a few shots of ammo – one more 20 gauge shell, and seven 10mm – a healing potion, a bottle of wonder glue, and 28 caps.
By my estimate there were four more slavers still in the camp. I moved to the cages. The remaining four slavers were guards. Two earth ponies and two unicorns. Two grenades got rid of three of them, maiming the fourth. I looked at the cages, there were 13 ponies. In the back, looking very shook up, was Abide. I stabbed my knife in the head of the last slaver and picked the keys off his belt. The second I unlocked the cages all, but Abide scrambled to leave. Not a single ‘thank you’? I was relieved that these slavers didn’t use bomb collars. Finally Abide trotted up to me.
“You...you came for me?” he asked, confused, “You could have left me.”
“Yeah, but this slaver camp was too close to New Appleloosa for comfort.” I replied.
“And they’re still not NCR.” He added, looking at the ground, “Just convenient I was here then?”
“Pretty much.” I said, before sighing, “You are only ‘escorting’ me because of what I did. It would look bad on me if I let you get sold into slavery.”
With a series of thuds I hoofed over all the weapons I’d acquired from the slavers: A few guns and a blood coated combat knife.
“Here,” I said, “If you don't want me to have any weapons, you can carry them all. Hope you hit the gym, lawboy.”
Abide just stared blankly at me, “You still have that Survival Guide?”
I nodded and levitated out the S & R edition of the Hoofington Guide, since we were heading to the Lunar Commonwealth. At that, Abide grabbed a saddlebag from one of the fallen slavers to use as his own. He pocketed the book and the weapons before moving to loot the rest of the camp.
While he did, I dug out the healing potion and chugged it. It flowed out the seam in my chest due to the lack of a stomach, healing nothing. Figures since I’m dead, and you can’t heal dead.
Sighing I dug out the bottle of wonder glue and put a dab on the bone sticking out the side of my leg. Grunting, I forced it back into my body. I winced at the pain as the bone set. I hoped it would hold. I stood and hopped up and down. Looks like it will hold. That set, I fished out some twine I’d kept from when I awoke and a needle to resew the y-cut on my belly. When I was finished, Abide returned with his original set of saddlebags in addition to the ones he’d taken.
“Are we sure they’re dead?” I asked.
“I checked the pulse of the ones by the tent. The Hellhound is missing his right side and there is pony mush by the cages.” He reported in a very matter-of-fact tone, like talking to a foal.
“Yeah? You thought I was dead too.” I countered, “And now I’m trotting around with a hole in my head and no internal organs.” Well, except for my heart, but logistics… “How long before I came back?”
Abide put a hoof to his chin and thought for a moment before speaking, “About 9-10 hours, give or take. But even if these folks came back, they are more maimed than you were and without weapons.”
“We should still warn New Appleoosa.” I suggested and he simply nodded in agreement.
*** *** ***
Footnotes:
Jibbly Jot: Level Up! Level -1
New Perk Added:
Slasher – You are more likely to strike a fatal blow with a bladed weapon like a knife, saw or axe. +5% critical chance.
Abide: NO STATUS CHANGES
Quest Started:
No Rest for the Wicked – √ (Optional) Eliminate the Slavers
√ (Optional) Free the slaves
√ (Optional) Rescue Abide
Warn New Appleoosa about the slavers.