//------------------------------//
// Chapter 35: Virtues 
// Story: Fallout: Equestria. We're no Heroes 
// by otherunicorn 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 35: Virtues
"I'm just an ordinary pony, well, cyborg, that is trying to survive the wasteland like everypony else."

So we walked into a little slice of hell.

The gates to New Appleloosa were partially open, just enough for ponies to pass through, probably left that way by one of the ponies trying to flee the slaughter of those within. More than likely, that pony was now nothing more than a pile of glowing dust, disintegrated by a beam of magical energy from an Enclave soldier's weapon. This hadn't been a battle, it had been an extermination. Fortunately not all of the ponies in the attacking camp could justify the behavior to themselves, and had turned on their commander. Unfortunately they had not acted until one ghoul pegasus had knocked their fleet from the sky in what was probably the most spectacular move in the history of war in Equestria.

As a result, the air stank of ozone, blood and burnt flesh, mingled with smoke and gunpowder. I activated my nasal filters, and turned to face Demi, who was a pace behind me. "Do you have something you can cover your nose with?"

"I'll manage. It's not that different to how Stable Four smelled when we got there, except, maybe fresher," Demi commented, scrunching her nose. "What's sad is that I'm getting used to it."

"That is an unfortunate side-effect of travelling with me," I muttered.

"It wouldn't have helped any if I'd stayed here, would it," Demi stated, "this town being where I was born and raised and all. More than likely, I would have ended up like that." She pointed to a dead mare, a row of bullet holes up her side, perhaps a victim of friendly fire, considering the Enclave had been using energy weapons.

A grey and black stallion walked past us as we skirted some of the fallen, looking for ponies we could assist. The ones at our hooves were beyond help, short of covering them for later burial. The stallion was Railright, the mayor/sheriff/coordinator of New Appleloosa. (I wondered why they spelt it that way, after all Appaloosa was already a horse term. Perhaps it simply wasn't enough of a pun for our forefathers.)

"What we need is a repair pony..." Railright was saying as he passed us. The mayor did a double take, turning to face me. "You. You're that traveling electrician, aren't you?" he asked, looking directly at me. His eyes drifted down to my two front legs, one white, one beige. "Oh, sorry, it's not you."

"I have been known to repair the odd power network," I replied, a little sarcastically. It would be nice to be remembered by name. "And yes, I have a new leg. What's broken that fixing it is so important it takes precedence over helping the wounded?"

"Power is out for the whole town." He pointed to the damaged sub-station. Even at this distance I could see it was a mess. It looked like it had taken a direct hit from something heavy: heavy as in a piece of falling Enclave ship. How pegasi hung that mass on a cloud I'd never fully understand. The extensive damage to the transformers that formed the substation was the sort of thing Lee would have repaired, her magical repair skills being a little different to mine. I could do it, but it could take me hours, or even days instead of the minutes it would have taken her. I would have to repair the breaks in wires of the coils one at a time, where she would have been able to do them all at once. Of course those skills had died with my mother. The robotic intelligence that had replaced her lacked magical skills. And Railright was suggesting power was out for the whole town? That second feed I had repaired should have kicked in automatically. "Power would make life a lot easier for those in the clinic," he said, "and for every damned other place where we will be trying to patch up the victims. And it won't be long before we are stumbling around in the dark."

"Okay," I agreed, "but that mess is beyond me, unless you have the parts. But before you panic, there is a second feed to the town that I should be able to activate."

"A second feed? Have you been holding out on us?" the mayor asked, frowning.

"I only repaired it a few weeks ago. I was hoping to sell it to you, but all the same, I did set it to kick in automatically in the event the primary failed, which apparently hasn't happened. I'll get onto it right now," I said. Fortunately that second feed used its own bank of transformers, and from here I could see they were still in good shape. I guess if worst came to worst, I could use those transformers to repair the primary system.

Railright did not even say 'thank you', immediately continuing on his way, walking towards his next problem. I suspected manners would be a casualty of the war. It didn't really matter, just like the caps I wouldn't get for the second power feed, or for any other repairs I did today. Today's payments would be knowing that those we helped directly, or indirectly may have a chance at living a better life. Hell, today, it was a matter of them having a chance at living. Period.

As I walked towards the substation compound, I heard Railright asking no one in particular if the pony following me was Demi One Wing. Yup, that's right, it's the filly almost no pony stood up for, and she's here to help you. Arriving at the chain-link fence surrounding the substation, I used my key to open the gate, and marched in, giving the mangled transformers wide berth. I could smell the ozone and hear some arcing. I could even feel the electricity. Okay, so the primary feed was still active, even if some of the transformers were shot. Whatever had whacked them was no longer here though. Either it had bounced away, or Crane, the town's heavy lifting pony, had moved it. The probable source of the debris, one of the four Raptors, wasn't too far away, sitting atop a number of box-cars near Turnpike Tavern. If nothing else, the Enclave had accidentally provided extra housing to the ponies of New Appleloosa.

Demi followed me into the fenced off area, so I turned to her. "Demi, this should not take long and it's really dangerous in here. If you are going to stay with me, make sure you touch nothing. I don't want you getting fried. For that matter, don't even go near those transformers. In that condition, the electricity could come looking for you."

"I'll wait for you out here then," Demi said, "unless I see something that needs doing or somepony that needs my help, in which case we'll meet up later." She pulled the gate closed behind her as she left. Smart filly. I stared at the mess before me again. Perhaps I could patch the primary feed across to the secondary bank of transformers without even having to move them. It would take time, but nowhere near as much as it would to repair the transformers themselves. I would cross that bridge if I came to it. The first thing to do was work out why the secondary feed hadn't kicked in, leaving the town without power.

I unlocked and entered the substation control room, a small but well built concrete structure that, despite the build-up of two hundred years of grime on its outer surfaces, had stood up to all the wasteland could throw at it. I closed the door behind me and approached the control panel against the far wall. Lamps were glowing and meters were displaying the correct voltages for the secondary feed. A few deft actions on my part had remote breakers activating, disconnecting the damaged transformers from the primary feed and the town's wiring from the transformers. That would stop the damaged parts causing any short circuits, fires or explosions when I connected the secondary feed. Now, why hadn't the system switched across automatically?

"Oh, derpy me," I said to myself as realization struck. "The primary feed is still good. It's just the local connection that is buggered. No wonder it didn't switch over."

I walked over to the local breaker bank, reached up with my hoof and slammed the breaker home. (There was something fundamentally satisfying about using my hoof instead of magic.) There was some savage sparking at the contacts as the breaker closed, then all went quiet except for a low level hum. Walking back to the panel, a quick check of the meters and indicator lamps showed that the system was working well, and that there was no unexpected load from the town itself, meaning the wiring had survived the attack without shorting out. Perhaps there were some breaks, but I'd deal with them when and if they were pointed out to me. Opening the door again, I looked out, confirming that the lights of the town had indeed come to life. While they were not making any appreciable difference at the moment, it would not be long before the pegasi had plunged us back into gloom. The total time between Railright's request and my successful restoration of power: under five minutes. The repairs to the damaged primary system could wait until they got parts. That could wait until after the wounded were helped. For that matter, it could wait until this Celestia damned war was over.

Now I could get on with what I came into New Appleloosa to do. No, not buy stuff: that was long forgotten. I'd come in here to help ponies. I hurried out, locking the door and gates behind me. The air around the damaged transformers still stank of ozone, but they were now silent, and I could feel that the electricity was gone. A quick glance around revealed than Demi had found somepony that needed assistance. She was helping a stallion, notably larger than herself, to hobble towards the clinic. I trotted after them, using some levitation magic to assist Demi with his weight. A crowd of injured wastelanders was already gathering around the facility, and with only the doctor and Candy the nurse to look after the injured, it could be a while before some of them received any treatment. I recalled the number of ponies the doctor had summoned to help save Saffron Fields, then move him to the clinic. More than likely many of those assistants were among the wounded or the dead.

"Could ponies who are able to, please fetch some cots from nearby homes?" a female called loudly. "We need somewhere to put the wounded so they can rest. Row them up outside the clinic if you could." The voice belonged to the nurse, Candy. I could see her striped uniform from here. That sounded like as good a place to start helping as any.

Demi and I helped the stallion to sit, to get his weight of his injured leg. It had already been bandaged, presumably by Demi, so he would be fine until somepony could give him more attention. As I turned to go hunting for cots, I saw a filly, lying deathly still, cradled in the blood soaked forelegs of her mother. Damn. Wars were so indiscriminate. Hoping against hope, I was leaning closer to see if the filly was still alive when she spasmed. Relief flooded through me;  she wasn't dead. Maybe I could save her. Quickly I reached into my battle saddle and extracted a healing potion. Removing its lid, I used my magic to direct the life saving liquid down the filly's throat and into her stomach, bypassing any need for her to be conscious enough to swallow.  As soon as I could, I followed it with a second potion. A Super Restoration potion would have been ideal, but I didn't have one.

"That will keep her alive," I told the filly's mother. "Her wounds should all close up quite quickly. Keep her dry and warm, and when she wakes, give her liquids. Your milk would be good. It will take her a while to regenerate her lost blood. Maybe the doctor can do more to help. He might have some blood packs." The mare thanked me with teary eyes, but remained where she was, allowing her filly to continue resting. Hopefully the doctor really would be able to offer more assistance. I knew from experience that running out of blood really sucked. "Are you wounded yourself?" I asked the mare as an afterthought. I had assumed all the blood was the filly's. It wouldn't help any if the mare died. She shook her head. Thank Celestia for small mercies.

Returning to the requested task of acquiring cots, I headed towards the nearest railway coach that looked like it was in use as a home, opening the unlocked door with my magic and walking straight in. Nopony challenged my actions, so I searched the coach for beds, finding them easily enough. I levitated the first, tipping it on its side so it would pass down the narrow corridor of the coach, and out the end door. With it floating above me, I walked the short distance to the clinic, placing the cot where requested. It looked a bit grotty, so I touched my horn to it, using my transformation spell to restore the mattress. No doubt it would soon be a bloody mess again, but at least it would be a sanitized one. A quick scan of the area located a stallion in need of medical attention and a bed, so I used my cleaning spell on him before levitating him, gently placing him on the mattress of the cot I had just brought. Even though he was seriously injured, he wasn't bleeding, so I saved my remaining healing potions for ponies in greater need of them. That done, I went off to find another bed to borrow.





The air still stank of blood, burnt flesh, and alcohol, the latter being a mix of medicinal and rum. Apparently the dwindling resources of healing potions had been diluted with butterscotch, the theory, I assumed, being if you were drunk, you wouldn't notice the pain. My own supplies of healing potions and magical bandages were long since exhausted, as were Demi's. We had helped as much as we could, helped until we could help no more, other than to stand around waiting should our assistance be required again.

"Anne, you are bleeding," Demi suddenly announced.

"It's probably somepony else's blood," I answered, thinking about all the injured we had assisted.

"No, you used your cleaning spell after we finished helping the wounded. It's there, coming from under your barding," Demi indicated with a raised hoof.

I looked back. She was right. A small trickle of blood had matted a few hairs on my flank. It really wasn't anything to worry about. There was no major flow. The cybernetics would have seen to that. Now that I knew it was there, my brain was able to isolate the likely sore spot from among the myriad of bangs, bumps and bruises I had gained fighting my way onto the Enclave Raptor. I unfastened my battle saddle and barding and carefully levitated them off, placing them on the ground out of the way, and twisted my head around to gain a better view of my wound. Closer inspection by both myself and Demi showed it to be nothing particularly serious, a light wound that resulted from a magical energy beam penetrating my armored barding.

"Well, what am I going to do about that?" I asked no pony in particular.

"I do have a regular bandage left. Perhaps you could wrap that around yourself," Demi suggested.

"It will have to do. I'm all out of supplies myself," I responded as Demi passed me the bandage, "and it isn't as if this warrants anything more. What about you? Get that barding off so I can look you over."

"I'm pretty sure all I have is bruises," Demi told me as she obliged, dropping her barding on top of mine. There was no immediate sign of injury, so I took a few moments to wrap the bandage around my midriff. That done, I turned to Demi and gave her a thorough examination. I could see some discoloring of her skin through her coat, as well as minor abrasions, but nothing serious.

"You'll survive," I told her. "Just scratches and bruises."

"Told you," Demi replied, as Railright walked past again.

This time Railright was accompanied by a bald, scarred mare that could only be described as looking like a raider. I was glad I had told the Enclave solder to give raiders a chance to surrender first! Railright approached one of the cots we had set up outside the clinic. The tiny mare that had ridden in on the rust colored pegasus was lying in it. Railright opened his mouth to speak, shutting in promptly when the little mare propped herself up and unleashed her fury at him.

“You gave Red Eye the balefire bomb,” she spat. Okay, this was interesting. Red Eye was behind the bombing in Splendid Valley.

The raider mare spoke up, ignoring the anger the small mare was radiating. “Wow. I get you now,” she announced. “Feels damn good t’ be a goddess-damned heroine for once. Fight on the side of the angels and all that.”

So this midget mare was well known? I stared at her and her winged friend, trying to work out who they were. I had no idea. Intent on ignoring the rest of their exchange, I was turning to leave, when I heard something I certainly wasn't expecting.

“And ya blew it up for him,” Railright stated in none to pleasant a voice. What the hell? The discussion continued, revealing that this miniature mass murderer was the mare behind wiping out both the inhabitants of, and visitors to Splendid Valley, and directly responsible for the chain of events that led to the killing of my father, and the other three victims of our encounter with the Enclave patrol. I didn't know if I could drop the blame for the war with the Enclave at her hooves though, because the Enclave had come down from their clouds and had been sniffing around the Goddess when the bomb went off. While I had been on reasonable terms with the Goddess, I would not have wanted to be about if she had joined forces with the insectoid menace! Enclave soldiers and alicorns fighting side by side would have pretty much spelled the end for us muck dwellers.

Another of Railright's comments left me puzzled, something about the DJ Pon3-loving herd being extremely annoyed with him for banishing this mare from New Appleloosa. How did DJ Pon3 fit in to all of this? What had he been on about in recent broadcasts? Some stable dweller. Some wasteland heroine. I'd heard it all before. He'd even carried on like that about my mother and I after we had first emerged from the stable lab all those years ago, but had given up on that not too long after he actually met us. I think we had been a disappointment to him. My mother's pacifistic attitude ensured we weren't going to be the next great heroes. So that meant this mare had to be his current favorite, the new savior of the wastes. I hoped she got her act together soon. The wasteland wasn't going to survive much more of her current style of "saving".

Again I turned to leave the scene, content that there wasn't anything else we needed to do when heavy drops of rain started to fall, heavy in that each drip was able to penetrate a pony's coat, and go right through to her skin, delivering a little chill. And Candi had arranged the patient's cots out in the open. Preempting the inevitable, I turned and walked back towards the cots. Orders were given, requests were made, and once again all able bodied ponies were put to work again. I levitated the nearest cot, and headed towards Absolutely Everything, as requested. Within the cot, a white pegasus mare with a notable blue mane moaned at the disturbance.

"Sorry, love, but I'll be as careful as I can," I told her as I trotted towards the large store. Around me some of the others were lifting the cots with their teeth, when there were enough of them together to manage the task, or just pushing and pulling them across the ground when there weren't. Fortunately some of the latter appeared to be fitted with wheels. "Let me guess, you came down here to investigate what was happening when that rainboom blew a hole through your fields?" I asked, not really expecting an answer. "You picked a pretty bad time."

She coughed.

"Save your breath for more important things, like getting better," I said. "It's usually pretty rough down here. There are too many selfish ponies fighting over what little we have left. Of late your Enclave has been making things a lot harder."

"... this isn't... right. What the soldiers were doing is... wrong," the white pegasus wheezed.

"I'm glad to see one of you feathered types admitting that," I commented. We had arrived at Absolutely Everything, so I carefully maneuvered the cot through the doorway, and into one of the further corners of the store, so as to allow maximum space for the others who were following me. Fortunately this doorway was wide enough that the cots didn't need to be tipped on end to fit through! The bald raider mare, and the desperado wearing pegasus carried the midget mare's cot in the other direction to which I had taken once in the store, placing it near the door to Ditzy Doo's private room. The door to that was open and a glow was coming from within, so I moved a few paces so I could investigate. Ditzy lay on her bed, deathly still, which I guess is an weird way of describing a member of the undead, with her little adopted filly, Silver Bell curled up on top of her, restlessly moving in her sleep. On the floor below them, was an empty packet of RadAway, a little of the glowing orange juice dribbling from the filly’s muzzle indicating it was she who had consumed it. The radioactive glow was coming from a balefire phoenix sitting close by, watching over them. A tame balefire phoenix? That was a new one to me. Even from here my Pipgirl was giving the occasional tick from the radiation it was shedding. That was when I had the epiphany: the glowing ghoul that had exploded above New Appleloosa was lying there in front of me. She was none other than the town's resident merchant, Ditzy Doo herself. Now there was a true wasteland heroine.

An amber mare and khaki stallion, both of them youngish, had followed us in, and were adding to the crowded feel, now that all the cots that could be had been squeezed into the store. They were engaged in an exchange with the small mare, their conversation suggesting they had encountered her before, but only just now realized she was their heroine from the radio broadcasts.

“...risk their life trotting into the home territory of the most dangerous monsters in Equestria to set off a balefire bomb and clear them out,” the amber mare was saying. I guess that was a point. It must have taken a lot of guts to go down into that hellhole of a valley, and then to take on the Hell Hounds that lived beneath its surface. Fortunately Stable Lab Four had been far enough out of the valley for those tunneling monsters not to have hacked their way into it. I didn't really want to listen to the conversation. I could see the small mare, (what was her name? Littlepip, I thought I'd heard her called) was obviously under some distress over just how much damage she was being told she had caused. Perhaps she simply hadn't thought about how much collateral damage would be caused by the explosion. After all, no pony had seen a balefire explosion in generations, even if the evidence of the power was all around us in the form of smashed cities and giant craters.

A stallion near me woke and began to thrash and scream, the pain from his injuries overcoming the inadequate medical treatment he had received so far. I stepped out of the way, tucking myself into a gap near the door while others moved to restrain him and administer medication, taking some from Ditzy Doo's stock. That was a resource I hadn't even thought of. At least the town wasn't about to run out of medication, even if I had. Before I could suggest chipping in to buy her stocks Railright marched in, probably attracted by the commotion, and announced he was confiscating that Ditzy Doo’s medical stock for emergency use. Oh well, she wouldn't be the first pony to donate her healing supplies to aid those in need today.

Moments later, the door banged open again, and this time two colorful, unarmored pegasi pushed there way in. I was beginning to wonder about where I had chosen to stand. I was highly likely to get a door to the face if I wasn't careful.

“I’m sure they brought her in here,” the sunflower yellow pegasus mare with a curly crimson mane and tail said, falling quiet when she realized she was now the center of attention. Her companion, a jade colored, and teal maned stallion with a mane cut like Saffron's had gone into retreat mode, and appeared to be about drag his companion out by her Pinkie Pie tail.

“Are you crazy?” the stallion quietly hissed. “They’re going to kill you! They’ve probably already killed her. For all you know, this is their kitchen!”

The mare broke out in a sweat. If they kept this up, they could well be in danger of a good clip across the ear from my hoof. “They can hear you,” the mare announced in a harsh whisper. I doubt a public address spell could have made them more clearly heard, despite the general background sounds of ponies in pain.

In an attempt to defuse the situation, the conversation broke down into a lame attempt at humor about ponies eating ponies. While I expected none in this room ever partook in such vile practices, I knew the raiders were all too happy to do so, and this town had been mistaken for a raider camp by the Enclave. It turned out the pair had come down from the clouds with Morning Frost, the white mare who's cot I had carried in here. As the discussion continued, I decided it was time for me to be elsewhere. I had left my barding and battle saddle over near the clinic, and by now they were probably getting rained on. That wasn't particularly concerning in itself, but I didn't want any pony finding them while I wasn't looking.

I pulled the door closed behind me as I escaped the awkward social situation, and trotted a couple of steps down the ramp. Demi was standing there, quite wet, evidently waiting for me.

"The problem with pegasi," Demi said, "is that there are only two wings for every four drumsticks, and if you don't watch out, these muck dwellers are liable eat those right off your back!" She chuckled, flapping her single wing.

"You were listening in?" I asked, suppressing a chuckle of my own.

"Yup. Thought better of trying to squeeze in there though, especially after I heard the conversation, although if I had timed it right, I would have told the joke in front of our lofty brethren," she said with a smile. "Anyway, I think I'm fully rinsed now, so finding somewhere dry would be really, really nice."

"You were bathing?"

"Sure. Why not? It's nice fresh, radiation free rain, and I was all hot, sweaty and grubby," she explained, "and I don't have a cleaning spell like you do," she added as an afterthought. "Where should we stay? The common room stinks."

"I found that out for myself," I admitted, recalling the rancid mattresses and unwashed ponies that were using them. Sleeping on the ground underneath Ditzy Doo's store had been preferable.

"We could try the crashed Enclave ship up there. I think it's empty at the moment. Or we could crash my ex-parent's place and see if they survived," she suggested, "and rectify that if need be," she added jokingly. At least, I thought she was joking. She was smiling innocently. She had to be joking.

"Oh, the fun," I responded. "I think they dislike me more than you. I hit your ex-father so hard with my pushing spell he was airborne when he exited through the door at the far end of the coach. Your ex-mother probably lost a few teeth, as well as getting a broken jaw." I doubted she would be forgetting the pain of my the parting kick, even if she had been unconscious when I delivered it. Several had heard the argument, her confession, and subsequent attempt to catch and sell me. Her guilt was obvious, my actions excusable as self defense, even if that last kick in reality had been one of revenge.

"I wonder where Lee has got to," Demi interrupted my thoughts. She had a good point. Lee hadn't been heard from since she had gone to explore one of the crashed Enclave Raptors.

"Probably trying to crack some piece of Enclave technology, I expect. She'll be fine. I think she's old enough to look after herself, don't you?" I asked.

"What was she? Twelve hundred years old or something like that, wasn't it?" Demi pondered. "That would make me a little over one hundredth of her age."

"Scary, isn't it, to think there was that level of technology out there while ponies were still banging rocks together to start fires."

"Looking at the results of our efforts, perhaps we should have stayed that way," Demi commented.

"Too true, too true," I agreed. "Now where did we get to? Instead of standing here in the rain, perhaps we should get back to finding somewhere to sleep. Oh, and retrieving our gear."

"The gear is under the ramp," Demi said. "The ground under there rises enough to stay dry, even when water is pooling due to heavy rain like this. Might not be so good with wind driven rain though."

"It must be the remains of an old dirt ramp or something," I said, "And it isn't a bad place to sleep either. That's where I've slept on both of my last visits. Are you okay with cuddling up on hard dirt for the night? It can get a little cool if it gets too windy, even if it isn't raining."

Demi shrugged. "So we cuddle closer if that happens, and if you dry our barding with your cleaning spell, we can put that back on too."

I nodded. "I'll be drying the both of us too. Come on, Precious, I think we've done enough for one day."

Before we could move, a pair of earth pony stallions rounded a corner, heading straight for us. I stared at the bedraggled pair through the heavy rain, wondering if I knew them. One was gold with a tan mane and tail, the other tan, with a gold mane and tail, and both wore light barding that left their cutie marks visible: manacles and chains. Slavers. No, ex-slavers. Yes, my hunch was right: I did know them. They were Golden Delicious and Chain Mail. Demi tucked herself in behind me, hiding.

"What brings you boys here?" I asked as they approached.

"We came for supplies," Golden Delicious, answered, not yet having recognized me. "What's been going down here? It looks like a war zone!"

"You didn't see the sonic rainboom?" I asked.

"Of course we saw it. Every pony for miles would have seen it. Was that what happened here?" Chain Mail asked.

"The Enclave happened here. The rainboom was to get rid of them," I explained. "Anyway, how's business these days? My slave was killed in the fight, and I'm in the market for another, and your cutie marks suggest that is your profession." Had this pair really changed their ways, or had they regressed since our last encounter?

"Sorry love, we aren't in the trade. Our cutie marks are embarrassing reminders of an unfortunate upbringing," Golden Delicious stated, shaking his head.

"I'm glad to hear that, Golden Delicious," I responded, smiling.

Hearing his name, Golden Delicious, lifted his head, and flicked his wet mane from his eyes.

"Chain Mail, it's Annie!" he enthused as he recognized me, apparently electing not to challenge me on testing him again.

"Annie! You have four legs again!" Chain Mail exclaimed, after looking me up and down.

"Yes. I had a few repairs done. Unfortunately spare parts only came in white," I said.

"It's not all bad news. The sock looks cute on you," Chain Mail stated. "How is your little one-winged friend doing?"

"Well, thank you," Demi's voice came from behind me.

"Oh, either she is hiding again, or Annie is good at ventriloquism," Golden Delicious said, recalling their last encounter when Demi's conversation with them had been from several out-of-sight locations. I doubted the relationship between the ex-slavers and Demi could ever be anything but distant.

Demi stepped into view, and moved up beside me, our flanks touching. "I am very much here," she stated. "I also have one of the most dangerous weapons in the wasteland with me." Yay, I'm a weapon.

Golden Delicious looked shamed. "Sorry, there is no need for you to feel so threatened. I know what we used to do was wrong. We couldn't see it at the time, but thanks to you and Annie, we really have changed. I'm sure I've said it before, but I am truly sorry, to you Demi, Annie, and every other unfortunate pony I sold. We are now working as regular traders, and are hoping to make enough to buy back and free those we can. We've already helped one fellow to freedom."

"That's good. Please keep it up," Demi acceded. "Now if you will excuse us, we have some ex-parents to visit."

I looked at Demi, trying to read her expression, and failed. I suspected she merely meant she wanted to be elsewhere. Clearly she was finished with this conversation.

"A good day to you then, and may you continue to live in freedom," Chain Mail offered, as he moved to pass us and go into Absolutely Everything.

"I wouldn't go in there, boys," I warned. "It's a make-shift hospital ward at the moment. That rainboom was Ditzy Doo, and she's in no condition to be buying or selling either."

"To the tavern it is, then. Thanks for the warning," Golden Delicious said, immediately changing direction towards that establishment.

We watched them walk away. When they had gone far enough not to hear us, Demi spoke. "Let's get out of this rain."

"And what of your suggested visit to your former home?" I queried. "I thought you didn't want to go there."

"You faced your parents. Maybe I should face mine," she suggested.





After a fairly long and unpleasant trip that must have taken a mere ten minutes, Demi and I had made our way past the debris, severed limbs, covered bodies and soggy ash piles that were all that remained of the Enclave's victims. Now we stood on the catwalk near the tatty old door of her ex-parents' converted passenger car home. The towns folk were doing what they could to clean up the mess, but many of them were wounded or dead, and the rest, like us, were pretty worn out, so I expected wandering around town would be unpleasant for a few more days.

We paused under the coach veranda while I used my cleaning spell to clean and dry us both. I certainly felt better for it. Feeling that barging in might not be the best approach, even if Demi had lived here for years, I extended a hoof and knocked on the door. A little of the two hundred year old paint couldn't stand the stress, and flaked off, floating down to the ground below us. After no one answered, I looked at Demi. She nodded, took a step forward, stomped the door lever and opened the door. Rusty hinges protested, more so than I would have expected. They sounded like they hadn't been used in a few weeks.

Alerted by the rusty screech, a crusty old codger leaned out of a window of a nearby coach, stared at us for a moment, then let fly. "You pegasus scum. That's somepony's home you know. You don't have the right to just walk in and help yourself."

"Stop pretending to be blind, you stupid old codger," Demi yelled back. "I know full well you recognize me."

"No I don't, you young lout. I certainly don't recognize the pony with you," the old pony groused, taken aback by Demi's response.

"You don't need to recognize her. She is with me and that is enough," Demi spat.

"Damn pegasi. They think they own everything," the codger complained again. I was getting tempted to walk over to his house and weld his doors shut.

"Say my name, Mister Copperbutt. It's better than yours."

"No good winged menace," the pony muttered, loud enough for us to here, as was no doubt his intent.

"Say my name, Mister Copperbutt. Say it!"

"Okay. You are Demi One Wing," the old pony grumbled.

"Good. Now pull your head in, close the window, and mind your own bloody business!" Demi shouted.

A few other voices rose to complain about the noise, but that was it. Copperbutt did as Demi suggested and pulled his head in, closed the window, and shut up.

"Sorry about that," Demi apologized.

"Way to go girl," I praised her.

She chuckled. "I don't think he expected me to bite back! Last time he saw me, I would have slunk away and hidden. Anyway, let's go inside and see what remains of my former life."

As soon as we stepped through the door, it was evident that most of Demi's former life had packed up and left. The place had a swept clean, and picked over feel to it. Pots, pans, plates, blankets, all such items were absent. Even the dividing curtain from the entry was missing. No one else had moved in either, so the place really was deserted, our hoofsteps echoing in the empty space.

"Hmm. Gone and took everything with them," Demi mused. "Anyway, welcome to my former home. Huh? Blood?" She indicated some splashes and a small stain on the floor.

"Ah, I suspect I am responsible for that. That would be about where your mother landed after I kicked her up-side her head. Maybe she bit her tongue or something," I suggested.

"Serves her right. Where'd Dad go when you threw him?"

"Far end, through the door," I indicated.

Demi flicked on the overhead lights, then trotted to the other end of the coach, me following her. Arriving, she poked at the door with a hoof. "Busted. Looks like it has been boarded up from the outside. You did say he went through it, though I hadn't quite visualized that he went through the door and not just the doorway!"

"I think both of them would have had to visit the doctor when I had finished with them. He was already calling me the Grim Reaper for blowing up Saffron. I can't imagine what he would call me now," I said.

"It doesn't matter what he calls you. It's what I call you that's important," Demi stated, blushing.

"Thanks, Honey," I said, giving her a quick hug.

"Hey, I wonder if they took my stuff too, not that I actually had much," Demi said, zipping around me, and into one of the seating alcoves. Dropping to the floor, she wiggled part way under one of the seats, reaching for something. After a brief struggle, she pulled back, a battered box between her hooves. "'Demi's stuff. Keep out!" was written on it.

"It's still here!" she exclaimed, excited. She sat, then opened the box, carefully rummaging around inside for a few moments before pulling out a very much loved doll, if the worn condition of its orange coat was anything to judge by. She held the doll up towards me. "It's a genuine Red Racer Scootaloo doll. Not many were made. They were for promoting her company, not really for fillies to play with," she explained.  She gave it a hug anyway.

"A gift from your parents?" I asked.

"Uh-uh," Demi shook her head. "I bought her from Ditzy Doo when I was little. I had saved up three bottle caps. I think Ditzy sold her to me cheap, and she gave me some odds and ends of cloth, and some needles and thread. Ditzy is an old sweetie."

"That she is," I agreed. Ditzy and her store were what made this town great. "What else do you have in the box, if I may ask?"

"The clothes and things I made for Scoots," Demi said.

That a pleasant part of her childhood was salvageable was wonderful, but any chance for closure Demi may have been hoping for with her ex-parents was gone with them. "Demi, does it bother you that you don't get to face your parents?" I asked quietly.

The youngster shook her head. "This is better. They are gone. I don't know where. I don't care where. I can forget they even existed now that I have you."

I sat next to her, and for a while we just hugged. After that, she carefully went though what was in her box, dressing her doll in some of the clothes she had made, and explaining a little of the story behind them. For somepony without unicorn magic, she had done well. I could understand that this Scoots doll had been her only real friend before I had come along. Finally, she packed all the items back into the box.

"Let's get out of here, Anne. I don't fancy sleeping here, even if the ex-parents are gone" Demi said. "Damn. I left my saddlebags under Absolutely Everything. I don't think the box will stand up to all this rain."

"Let me handle that for you," I suggested. My first spell allowed her to carry the box on her back without any chance of it falling off or spilling its precious contents. The second was my rain shield spell. It would allow us to stay dry all the way back to Ditzy Doo's store.

"Our food is back there too," I commented as we began our journey back to our dry-spot under the store's ramp, "and I am beginning to feel rather hungry."

"Good point. Good point," Demi agreed.





Up above us, in Absolutely Everything, things became quite busy and despite the hiss of rain pounding around us, I could still hear the ponies and griffons walking about. Some griffons had arrived earlier and were helping with the mopping up and security. Now a few of them were above, in the store, chatting. It even sounded like Silver Bell was running around up there, faint hints of her natural melody wafting down. It didn't help me that it was still several hours pre dawn. Mind you, I had to admit that I tended to do things when needed, travel when appropriate and so on. It was just that this time I had been trying to sleep. Demi was snuggled up against me, her wing wrapped around me like a blanket. I pondered whether that left her feeling cold, but then realized she was benefiting from my body warmth against her wing as well. Lee had vanished again. It wasn't like she needed to sleep, after all. She had sought us out for long enough to let us know she had moved the trike, trailer and her bike into the wrecked Enclave Raptor so nopony could steal them, and that the Raptor was so full of wonderful things that she was going back for more. Did I mention that she had flown over the town's boxcar wall to tell us this? Apparently she had found some levitation talismans. Now she was a unicorn that couldn't do magic (if you discounted her magical fingers), but could fly. Go figure.

Just when I was getting used to the increased noise above, and was finally drifting off to sleep again, the midget mare bolted through the door letting it slam behind her, snapping me awake. I struggled to hang onto my dozy state, but as the adrenalin dumped into my system took effect, the last traces of sleep vanished from my reach. I knew it was going to be a very early start to the day.

"You know, I miss sleeping out in the middle of nowhere," Demi said to me quietly, also a victim of the little mare's rapid exit.

"Town life. I'm not a great fan of it myself," I admitted. "The Stable Four mares are more like a big family: so much more considerate of each other than this lot."

Demi stood. "Let's find out what put a rocket in her socket, shall we?"

"Let's stay under here where it's dry," I suggested.

"Okay," Demi agreed, following the passage of the mare with her eyes.

The mare paused by the old train engine that formed part of Absolutely Everything, before vanishing around the side into darkness. Keeping low to avoid the bracing and other low-hanging parts of the old railway stock, Demi scrambled in the direction of the mare. That wasn't quite what I had meant when I suggested we stay dry. I scrambled after, a combination of curiosity and concern for Demi driving me. I didn't trust that little mare. Well, I didn't know her, and that pretty much amounted to the same thing.

Demi had paused, and dropped back onto the ground which, like the area under the ramp, was just high enough to stop the small rivers the heavy rain was creating from washing under here. I sidled up beside her and dropped down beside her.

"What's she doing?" I quietly asked.

"Number one, by the look of it," Demi giggled. "Silly pony couldn't wait to get to the toilet!"

"Oh dear. Let's leave her in peace then," I suggested.

“Hello, Littlepip…” a metallic voice said from somewhere near by. It was one of those damn sneaky sprite bots with that Watcher fellow in control.

"Come on, Demi, this is none of our business," I whispered. "Let's go try to get a few more hours sleep."

"Yeah, okay," Demi whispered back as we sneaked away. More sleep was wishful thinking, but I knew I had to try.





"So that filly sized mare is the great wasteland savior?" Demi asked as we headed out through the main gate to New Appleloosa. We were on route to check on our robotic scavenger friend (formerly my mother), who was still somewhere inside the crashed Enclave ship.

"Apparently so. Such a tiny pony creating such large waves," I commented, "and apparently large stuff-ups."

"That such a tiny thing can accomplish so much makes me feel a little less inadequate," Demi said. "Admittedly I am still a filly, but all the same. And what do you mean about stuff-ups?"

"Blowing up an entire colony of innocent bystanders, if you could call Hell Hounds that, blowing up a large contingent of Enclave's finest, and driving us out of Stable Lab Four all at the same time, when all she was intending to do was blow up the Goddess. That has to be the stuff-up of the century."

"How do you figure that?" Demi puzzled. "How do you know who she meant to blow up?"

"A little pony told me she spent hours crying after she realized just what a mess she had made," I replied. "There may be some room for interpretation, but it seems to be a relevant enough observation. Whatever she meant to achieve, she's certainly put the inevitable muck-dweller/cloud-dweller conflict into full gear."

"Let's hope it gets us some sunshine down here," Demi stated. "Of course, it would be nicer if they would just let us have some without the fighting."

"I think they are ruled by fear. It has become so ingrained into their structure that the only way they will let go of it is if someone forcibly takes it from them. Even then, they will scream and carry on and try to take it back, but hopefully some sort of peace could be sorted out before they can regain their grip."

Arriving at the hatch to the downed Raptor, I lowered the cans of paint I had been levitating to the ground. Buying them had been no problem as Ditzy's health had rapidly improved to the point of being quite able to help customers by morning. In fact, she looked more refreshed than we had after our sleep-interrupted night spent under her store's ramp. The paint we had bought to disguise our stolen Enclave tank, The Brick wasn't quite the right color. In fact, the cans of paint weren't even of the same color. It was hoped with bit of mixing and perhaps a little magic, we would have something more or less like what we wanted - mud, sand and dirt colored. Apparently a camouflage pattern was being called for. It had also been suggested we toss a bit of wasteland scrap up on top of it - a bit of rusting corrugated sheet metal, a few bits of canvas, and so on. All in all, Ditzy's ideas had been rather helpful, but I guess that was to be expected of the author of the Wasteland Survival Guide.

Paying for our supplies had been easy. In fact we had more to trade than we needed. Using parts she had salvaged from within the crashed Raptor, Lee had converted magical beam weapons both from the Raptor itself, and from the powered armor of the squad from The Brick into some pretty decent hoof-held, mouth-held and battle saddle mounted weapons. She had even scrounged up a decent supply of ammunition for them. The trade value of these weapons was quite high, a lot more than we needed for a few cans of paint, a box of RadAway and the other odds and ends we asked for. Ditzy had suggested we take store-credit. I suggested we didn't and that she sell the weapons cheaply or even give some of them to ponies that were prepared to fight the Enclave in the impending confrontation. Ditzy Doo had liked the idea, something she demonstrated with one of her particularly squishy hugs. That was when I noticed that she didn't smell particularly bad, and the stench I had been attributing to ghouls was probably due to their individual outlook on personal hygiene rather than the condition of their bodies. My psyche had probably been adding to the effect. That was when I gave her the little statuette I had found while searching for Demi. It was of a pegasus mare in flight, a letter held between her teeth. Originally it had born the inscriptions "We Deliver!" and "Equestrian Postal Service". I had used my magic to clean it up, repair the cracks, wear and tear it had suffered over the years, and to turn the little pony a blue-grey color, with blonde mane and tail, effectively making her into a model of Ditzy in her younger days. To get the colors I needed, I'd stripped paint off a couple other items I'd found. I had also replaced the text "Equestrian Postal Service" with "Absolutely Everything". Of course that had resulted in a second hug.

Before I could head into the downed Raptor to look for Lee, a mechanical voice interrupted my reminiscing. I nearly jumped out of my skin, as did Demi beside me. I was stealthy, but these damn sprite-bots could teach me a thing or two!

"What are you doing here?" the sprite-bot asked.

"Watcher, I presume," I replied to it, "or you would be spouting propaganda and horrid music. You know, you could try calling out to me before you scare me half to death. It may also result in me shooting you less often."

"I will remember that," the sprite-bot responded.

"As for what I am doing here, we are doing here," I corrected myself as I glanced at Demi, "we came to buy supplies for the mares of the stable I am looking after, and ended up fighting to save New Appleloosa, and then helping the injured and doing repairs after the fighting was over."

"Very noble of you," the Watcher stated.

"It was the decent thing to do," I said, "but now things have settled down, we are heading back home with the supplies."

"Paint?" Watcher asked, although with the limited expression of the mechanical voice, it may well have been a statement.

"Long story. Either we paint our new transport to camouflage it, or we repaint the stable so it is a nicer place to live. It all depends on if somepony finds the aforementioned transport before we can return for it."

"Yes, the definition of ownership has changed somewhat since Celestia's rule," the Watcher agreed.

"I saw you chatting to what's her name... Littlepip, the wasteland heroine last night," I said. "Are you searching out ponies for a specific reason, or is this a social call?"

"Hmm. I will get to the point. I want to know if you discovered your virtue yet," the flying robotic orb stated. Well, he was persistent if nothing else. Was collecting virtuous ponies his hobby?

"What makes you think I have a virtue, Watcher? I'm just an ordinary pony, despite whatever I've been through. I'm no hero, no great wasteland savior. Why would I have one?"

"Oh, come on!" Demi exclaimed.

"What? You know I'm no hero," I insisted. "I'm just an ordinary pony, well, cyborg, that is trying to survive the wasteland like everypony else."

"You so have a virtue, Anne. Perhaps you are just so busy being you that you can't see yourself the way we do," Demi stated, sounding a little flustered.

"Go on, please," the Watcher requested.

"Anne, what was the first thing you did for me when you met me? I was a sullen little ball of hate, yet you went out of your way to make me some barding, and to equip me with everything I could need to survive, should I wish to go my own way. What did you expect in return? Nothing. Nothing at all. What about the Stable Four mares. No sooner than we are in there, and you are using your precious and expensive healing potions to save those you can, again without any thought of recompense. You discover something of value out in the wasteland, and what is the first thing you think of? Is it how much of a profit you can make selling it? No, it's who you could help by giving it to them."

"So?" I responded. "I helped a few ponies. It's the right thing to do."

"It's that attitude of yours that we are talking about," Demi insisted, hugging me. "Anne, your virtue is generosity!"

Fin




Footnote: Level Up! Perk: You are now more Virtuous! Your Karma takes a boost.

Special thanks to the team of proof readers.

And that, folks is the last chapter. Next there will be an epilogue.