//------------------------------//
// 5 - Order Up 
// Story: Horse-Based Economy 
// by David Silver 
//------------------------------//

Stan dived behind Giddyup as gunfire pops echoed loudly around them. "Where?"

"Scanning." Giddyup didn't seem alarmed, turning his head with a sway of his entire neck. His skull couldn't really pivot the way a normal horse might. "Possible hostiles detected." He gestured with a ball of a hoof.

"Thattaway," called Applejack, already headed towards the trouble. "Sounds like there's a whole gunfight goin' down."

Ponies were hurrying, all in the other direction. They had enough sense to not want to be involved in the trouble, except a few of them. The sheriffs were trading shots with some raiders that thought the town looked open and ready for raiding. The sheriffs were doing their part to convince the bandits this was a poor idea.

Applejack jumped behind a wrecked car. "Is this why they keep these aroun'?"

Stan took up position a car over. "Couldn't say, but let's be thankful. Giddyup, be sure you're not hurting the good ponies."

"Of course." A shot hit his shoulder, leaving a hole in his exterior shell. "Minor damage sustained. This is a dangerous area. All children should leave."

"Listen to yer tin can," shouted one of the sheriffs. "We got this." With a gun held in a field of magic, he took a shot from around cover. Safe, but perhaps not the most accurate ways to do battle.

Applejack peeked at their enemies, six five humans. Two with longarms, two with shortarms, and one that thought a good stick was a fine enough weapon for the purpose. "Know a raider when ah see one." She lined up her shot with a careful inclining of her head. "An' they're bad no matter where ya are." With a firm squeeze, she caught one of the shortarm wielders winding through the cars.

They shouted with pain, drawing the attention of the others. Except one of the longarmers trying not to be shot by the town defenses.

A pained whinny called out, one of those sheriffs catching a bullet the only way a pony really could. A cruel laugh echoed, followed by a thud of bullet and flesh. There were only three of them left. "Surrender," called the shaggiest of the defenders. "Ain't even fair odds now. Throw down yer guns and we'll let ya walk out of here."

"As if. I'd rather--" Stan was perfectly willing and able to grant that raider's request. With a sharp retort, with a sharper edge than any words he had to share, he put a hole in the man's belly and knocked him down in the same shot. "--die..."

Giddyup knew better than to continue arguing for safety mid gun-fight, so he charged instead. The raider hadn't expected too many things out of the ordinary. An angry horse robot wasn't one of them. "Shit," they cussed out, firing wildly at the oncoming slab of metal. They did not build his meat and bones to have that much steel slam into him. breaking things with the momentum and causing structural bones to become wounds from the inside as the man hit the ground in a mess. "Moderate damage sustained."

"Moderate?" Stan knew what the levels were. "Consarnit, yer the one that needs to be careful."

"Jus' put that down." Applejack had her gun trained on the last one. "Nice an' slow."

"And I get to walk out?" His hands were firm on his gun, knuckles white from the pressure.

"You get to walk out." One of the sheriffs emerged. "You get to tell any others you find why this was a bad idea. Which'll it be? Do we kick your corpse in a shallow ditch, or do you walk yourself out of here?"

"What a choice." He glared at the closing ponies. "Horse freaks." He tossed his weapon down, not even slowly. "Hope you choke on your hay."

"Jus' a normal one." Stan wasn't paying the surrendered raider much mind, instead hurrying to Giddyup. "Do you know what kinda hurt you have?"

"Diagnosing..." Giddyup went quiet as he surveyed the damage in a way a human would struggle to do. "Damage located." He started off at a trot away from Stan, revealing nothing. He went right to one of the sheriffs. "You have been injured. May I assist?"

The pony peered up at the curiously concerned robot. "That somethin' you can even do?"

"Yes. May I assist?" Giddup's tone was even, as it tended to be. "Do you have any known allergies?"

"Uh... no?" He glanced at his fellows. "Things clear?"

"Clear," shouted another, prodding at the still form of one of the raiders. "Let the nannybot do their thing."

"I am not a nannybot." Still, Giddyup nuzzled the injured pony. With a loud hiss, he plunged a needle into the surprised stallion and casually injected him with the healing agents.

"Warn a fella," muttered the pony, but he was rapidly looking better, body ejecting the bullet that had been lodged in him. "Thanks..."

Giddyup 'spat' out the spent needle. "If they have replacement medical devices, I would like to replace the one I used."

"One right here." The shaggiest of them glared at the retreating raider a moment before he grabbed a hypo that wasn't claimed anymore. "How do ah..." He held it up towards Giddyup with an uncertain brow raised.

Giddyup lined his head and plunged down, piercing himself right in the mouth in the right spot. Connection made, little whirling clunks sounded as he drained the fluids free of the hypo and stored the needle for later use. "Thank you."

Applejack slid her gun away. "Today's been quite the day! Now, 'bout that snack. Built up even more of a hunger."

A sheriff thrust a hoof in front of her. "Calm yerself, little lady. We right 'ppreciate the help, but we told ya to keep them guns away 'less it were somethin' serious. A few raiders ain't that."

Stan came  up a little behind her. "We didn't cause no trouble, jus' lendin' a hand."

The pony chuckled softly. "Ah know... But we gotta keep some trigger discipline, or someone's likely to get themself hurt. Look, really, 'ppreciate it, but ah'm gonna have to write ya up." He coiled on himself to grab a pen and got to scratching on a pad of paper. "You'll have to see the mayor."

Applejack raised a doubting brow. "Mayor? Where're they hidin' at?"

He gave Applejack the ticket she had earned. "She's right there." He pointed to one building of many. It wasn't big, or special. Just another one. "Show her the paper there and she'll set ya straight."

Stan shrugged. "Not that ah'm complainin', really, but ah don't get one?"

The sheriff considered Stan. "Y'aint a pony... Do you even wanna be set straight by a pony?"

Stan folded his arms. "Well, now ya got me curious."

The pony chuckled as he wrote out a fresh paper and shoved it against Stan. "She'll set you right if you give her a chance. Real solid mare. Now... We got a mess to clean. Let's get to it." The three descended on the bodies to get them out of the way and let life in the town return to normalcy.

Applejack waved suddenly. "Ah'm still hungry! Will ya get mad if we take care of that first?"

"Do I receive a paper?"

Another Sheriff burst into laughter at Giddyup's question. "Ya didn't use a gun. Didn't do a thin' wrong. Then ya patched one of us up. Got no complaints. They could learn a thin' or two from ya."

The first waved Applejack off. "Go on with ya. Get some lunch in ya, then get on over to the mayor. She doesn't want starvin' ponies to chat with nohow."

Stan pat at Giddyup's side. "Well, with that settled, back to you. Figure out where yer hurt and how bad?"

"Moderate damage detected. Please call--" He stopped with Stan's hand reaching up to his snout, waiting for it to be removed. "I require repairs that are beyond your ability."

Applejack tilted her hat, looking Giddyup over. Sure, he had some new holes, but he wasn't... He didn't look extra hurt. "Can ah help?"

"You are not a trained technician."

Stan swatted at his mechanical buddy. "Ah ain't either, still put you back together afore."

"I am aware of your mechanical skills." Soft ticking, thought happening. "If one were to assign a number from 1, being entirely untrained and 100, being a full team of experts with optimized tools, you would be..." He lifted a round hoof at Stan. "25." He moved the hoof to point at Applejack. "Seven."

Applejack frowned at her low score.

Stan nodded. "Alright, and what number do ya need for what ails ya?"

"At least fourty. Fifty three would be comfortable. Sixty and above would consider this a rote repair. May I suggest we visit a manufacturer factory? I can provide numbers and addresses to the three nearest facilities. They could provide level 100 repairs at a reasonable cost."

Applejack whistled softly. "Shoot... Giddyup, this the kind of damage that'll make you turn off? Ya bleedin'?"

"I am not leaking lubricants. Thank you for checking. The damage should not lead to increased damage, but is limiting mobility, which could cause future damage." Despite this, he started forward. "I agree with Applejack's plan. Let's get some food."

"Hardly feelin' hungry now..." Stan walked alongside Giddyup anyway. "We had that handled. You didn't have to go gettin' yerself banged up."

"It is better that I be damaged than you." There was no doubt there. It was as certain as the sun being mildly warm. 

At least for Giddyup. Stan wasn't in agreement, reaching to swat but second guessing himself. "I didn't even get a little hurt."

"Then I performed my role correctly. Applejack, where should we go for lunch?"

Applejack considered the stoic horse. "Gonna side with Stan on this one. Let's have a look to see if they have a mechanic 'stead. Ah'll rest easier knowing you're touched up."

Giddyup seemed ready to object, a few aborted words coming and dying as they were decided against mid-speech. "Agreed," he finally gave. "But you will proceed to meal time if a mechanic is not located."

"Right right." Stan didn't sound like he was agreeing very hard. "Let's hope they got one. This place has a lot of other nice thin's."

As one, they pressed back into the awakening town. With the raiders scared off, ponies were emerging and resuming their business with smiles as if it had never happened. Their world was right.

"'Scuse me," tried Applejack with one passing by. "Y'all got a mechanic by chance?" She waved off to Giddyup. "We got a fine robot that could use a tuneup and repair."

"Oh... Hm." The pegasus curled a hoof to her chin. "That does look like a nice robot. I... I like robots." She smiled up at Giddyup. "Hello there, little friend. What's your name?" She hissed softly, as if maybe calling Giddyup closer as one might hiss gently at a cat or a dog to get their attention.

Giddyup came closer easily. "You speak binary very well."

The pegasus started. "Oh. You can talk English. Hello. I'm Fluttershy." She dipped her head at Giddyup. "Do you have a name? I'd love to hear it."

"I am a Giddyup Buttercup unit. My accepted name is Giddyup. My assigned child is Stan." He turned to point at Stan properly. "Are you a mechanic?" Fluttershy nodded. "Are you certified?"

Fluttershy looked confused at that. "Certified by who?"

"Wilsom Atamatoys, optimally." Giddyup inclined his neck and head as one. "Any other governing body will suffice."

Stan held up a hand. "Easy there. Ma'am, nice to meet you. You ever work on a Buttercup unit afore?"

Fluttershy sat and brought her hooves together. "I've read a lot about them. I've always wanted to see one of their engines up close. A real engineering feat." She paused, ear twitching. "Oh my... Your actuator!" She hurried in to paw at one of Giddyup's legs. "That must hurt, poor thing... We simply must begin repairs."

"I am incapable of experiencing pain." Giddyup let out a happy horse neigh. "Qualifications verified. Please initiate repairs."