Chapter 3: In Which Means Are Found for the Ends, and a Mystery Wounds
“Nec mortem effugere quisquam nec amorem potest.”
"No man is able to escape from death or love."
-Syrus, Maxims
Sixteen hours. Not even sixteen hours had passed since I’d stepped outside the grey walls of Stable 81, and already I have taken the life of another. Not a ghoul, not some random wasteland creature, but a living, breathing, thinking pony. Is this what the ruined husk of what was once Equestria holds for me? I’ve been beaten, kidnapped, attacked, and almost killed since stepping into the great outside, and there are no indications that the rest of my expedition will turn out any differently. Ponies out here don’t really live-they survive. Every day for these ponies is about nothing more than making it to the next day. I must say that my initial excitement is waning-my only savior being a thirst for knowledge; a thirst for the truth about what happened here and why, a thirst which must be quenched before I may return to my stable.
What more will it cost me, though?
* * *
“You look like you need a friend.” Repeated the tinny voice. This…machine, floating in midair through a combination of mechanical wings and what I assumed was magic, had no eyes that I could see; only a speaker on its face which it spoke through, but I could feel it watching me, waiting for me to answer. I just sighed, shaking my head, before hardening my stare and asking in what I hoped was a voice of authority and toughness, and not that of a barely held-together stable pony,
“Who are you? What do you want?” Maybe if I sounded serious and hardened, it would leave me alone? Not try and kill me?
No such luck, though-the thing just laughed in my face. An odd sound, considering the machine spoke with no intonation. “Well, Mr. Tough Guy, you can call me Watcher, and I want to help you.”
I snorted bitterly. “Yeah. Help. Like Sunny, who beat me unconscious and is holding me hostage? Or those ponies who tried to kill me earlier? Or maybe like those twins who want to do Celestia-knows-what to me? I don’t need your ‘help’. Now go away, or I’ll-“
“Kill me?” The spritebot interrupted, and I stammered while it continued. “I…heard about what happened in Falmalla. Not even two days out of the stable and you’ve had to kill somepony.” Believe it or not, the monotone voice still managed to sound…sad.
“I-it was an accident, I swear!” I countered, “I didn’t mean to-“
“To what? Defend yourself? As much as I hate to say it, sometimes…sometimes killing somepony is a necessity. An unfortunate one, but one nonetheless.” The bot seemed to dip, as if sighing. “There are few good ponies left anymore. I’ve met some, a couple recently, but the Wasteland erodes them to a point where they’re no better than the common raider. Either that, or they’re dead.” Somehow, I couldn’t help but agree. “But,” it continued, “if you have friends, ponies whom you can stand by, and who will stand by you, then together…maybe you could make things better.”
I nodded, drinking it all in. Friends? Well there was Insusurro, and…that was it, really. Sunny was more of a kidnapper than a friend, and I hadn’t really met many others yet; I would have to keep a lookout. But the little spritebot had a point-while the murder of ponies was deplorable and really only punishable by the harshest laws of the land, that pony had been himself trying to kill me. While certainly far from something I should constantly strive for, perhaps at times, especially in the Wasteland, taking a life was simply the only way to survive. Something suddenly struck me though… “Wait, how’d you know I killed somepony? Or that I came out of a stable?” I asked incredulously. The little spritebot responded with a musical number involving what I believe were tubas and at least one accordion, bobbing away into the night. Huh?
* * *
I can move my head.
The other ponies still argue about the shadows on the wall. There have been very few for quite some time-much less than before.
“There has been revolt!” Says one pony, “The slaves have overthrown their masters, but lost many in the struggle.”
“Foal!” Interjects another pony, “It is the masters who exterminated the slaves; that is why there are so few.”
“You are both wrong!” A third admonishes, “There has been famine or disease; that is why there are so few left!”
I listen to neither of them; as I said, I can move my head, and I am too busy moving it. I can see my hooves-they are still bound. But I turn my head, and I see a path. The path leads to a small light. I try to move towards it, but my hooves are bound by heavy chains. When I look up, there is a pony in front of me. Her hooves are not bound, and her gaze is stern. “Be
strong.” She says, as the light envelops everything.
* * *
“Well you certainly look chipper this morning. Finally pass that stick out of your ass?” Sunny said to me the next morning, sounding sarcastic yet looking confused. There was a ghost of a smile on my face-the first real one since I left the stable-and I was feeling better. Not good, mind you, but better than I had been. That had been a strange encounter with the spritebot last night, but that combined with…I guess I could call it a dream, as much as I could remember, I felt strangely better about things. Not good, I mean, I still knew in my heart that killing was wrong, but I wasn’t catatonic with guilt anymore. I just shook my head, stepping outside while she finished getting ready. It would be another day or so before reaching New Falmalla, apparently. I sighed, taking in the air as I looked around. Just as before, all that lay before me was a broken, dead Equestria. Few sickly plants grew, and the landscape was dotted with ruins. Now that I didn’t have a random mare beating me over the head with plywood or a crippling sense of shame, I had a chance to reflect, and to possibly get my bearings. My PipBuck’s map told me that we’d moved east from Stable 81, and had been heading north since Sukawaka, with a turn west at Falmalla, almost moving in a half circle until we were directly north of my old home. It was good that I had this to go by; there were stories of ancient Zebra tribes using the sun and stars to guide them in unknown lands-only problem with that was the ever-present cloud cover obscuring all but the most hazy view of the sky; I wondered if it ever let up? Looking south, I could see a great range of mountains, but not much else. I’d read once about Canterlot; had it survived the war? Given the state of the rest of Equestria, I could only assume it had been destroyed as well, sad a thought as it was. To the east a massive tower could be made out, if only barely. I didn’t know what it was, but I could tell that it would be in my best interest to stay away from there…and that I would most likely be paying it a visit in the future. To the west lay the ruins of a large city-Whinnyapolis, I assumed, and while I couldn’t see, I could hear what sounded like a pronounced churning. I smiled-there was so much to learn here! All that was in my way was a pony who wanted to sell me to ponies who wanted to…do something to me.
“Let’s roll.” Came the bored voice of Sunny from behind me. I followed her dutifully, keeping an eye out for enemies as yet another question bubbling to the tip of my tongue.
“Why Sunny?” I asked simply. “Why what? I told you, the megaspells destroyed everything and you are my ticket to a new life.”
She answered slowly, looking back at me with marked confusion. “No, I meant, why did your parents name you Sunny?”
Sunny stopped, blinked a few times, and just stared at me as if I’d grown a fifth leg. Wait, had I grown a fifth leg because of radiation? A quick check showed me that I still in fact had four legs, and I looked back up at her.
“Seriously?” she asked. At my lack of an answer, she replied simply, “Because of my bright and sunny disposition. What kind of a question is that?” She continued to walk, and I followed. “Why did yours name you…what was it? No Balls?”
“Close Call.” I offered, annoyed, “And I have no idea; they never told me before I left. It was just a question.”
“Yeah, a stupid one.”
* * *
As far as my eyes could see stretched the Whinnyapolis Ruins; a massive city whose scope I never would have thought possible. It was one thing to read about cities in books and stories, but…damn. It was almost as staggering as the realization that it had all been destroyed in a matter of hours. In the distance loomed the decrepit spikes of ruined skyscrapers, and to my right I could hear that churning again, the same sound I’d heard at the gas station. Now what in Luna’s name could make
a sound like that-
The sea.
To my right, and coming right up to the city itself was a marvel as odd, glorious, and terrifying as the open(ish) sky. An expanse of blue extending past the horizon. Before now, the most water I had ever seen in one place had been in a cup or a toilet, but this…this was alive.
My reverie was broken, however, by a small circle of cold steel pressed against the back of my head. “That’s enough sightseen’, No Balls. Let’s go.” Ah, yes. Business before knowledge, it seemed. I don’t know what that Watcher character was talking about friends, but somehow I didn’t think this was it. Sunny took the gun away from my head, but still kept it out as we approached New Falmalla.
New Falmalla wasn’t walled, per se, at least not walled by pony hooves. Considering the situation, there wasn’t really a point. New Falmalla wasn’t just a collection of old homes; it was a chunk of the city that some ponies had decided to call home. Quite a large chunk, it looked like. I couldn’t see much from here, though. I could, however, see two oddly similar-looking ponies in old business suits. I stopped, Sunny stopping beside me. “Gentlecolts.” She said with a nod. I just stood there, hoping their vision was based on movement.
“Sunny.” Said one.
“Always a pleasure.” Finished the other. They both smiled and nodded in unison. You know, they spoke separately, but I still couldn’t tell which pony was talking.
“We assume that-“
“-You’ve come to deliver-“
“-Our friend here?”
“We don’t want-“
“-Any trouble, dear Sunny.”
“Neither do we.” Sunny said simply, nonetheless keeping her firearm out and ready. The twins merely smiled that blank, unassuming, more than slightly creepy smile of theirs. “Yes…however, we are afraid-“
“That due to your…”
“…Uncouth actions last we met-“
“-We’ll be taking you as well.”
Our mouths dropped open in unison.
“We apologize-“
“-For any-“
“-Inconvenience.”
“No!” Sunny shouted, “No, you can’t do that! We had a deal!” Despite herself, her eyes betrayed more fear than anger as the twins just gazed on, smiling. “You won’t take me!” She screamed as the pistol came up. Guns were loud enough as it was without them being fired right next to your head! I closed my eyes and screamed, my own cries seemingly drowned out by gunfire.
“Dammit, Sunny! Sunny?” I called. There was a groan, and when I opened my eyes, it was as if I were back outside Stable 81. The twins were gone, and in their place were more ponies trying to kill us. Only difference was this time, Sunny was wounded on the ground, and it wasn’t ghouls attacking us this time. No, this time, we were being attacked by armed bandits. “Sunny!” I shouted as a very rough-looking pony with spiked shoes broke from cover to charge me. I leapt to the side as he halted, pivoting hard and throwing out a deadly hoofkick. Almost instinctively I ducked, my limbs almost moving on their own to hit the spots where his legs met his body with solid strikes. He crumpled on top of me, trying futilely to make his hooves do more than twitch, and me trying futilely to move out from under him. Sunny was trying her best to get up, still firing, but there was a lot of blood, and a lot more ponies to contend with. Through sheer luck and the ethereal help of a little orange pony in my mind I managed to wriggle out from underneath my opponent, who was gaining more and more feeling in his legs. A kick to his ilia stopped him from doing much more than sobbing, however, as I sped to Sunny’s side. “Hey! We have to get out of here, right now!” I shouted, trying my best to help me and her run…somewhere! She swatted me aside, gritting her teeth against the pain and blood loss.
“Close your eyes!” She shouted. Close my eyes? What was she talking-
“Ex virtute stellarum!” By the power of the stars! From Sunny’s horn erupted a blinding light, catching me-and more importantly, our enemies-off guard. While they staggered, shouting profanities and rubbing their eyes, it only took me a few seconds to blink away the multi-colored stars-the blast must have been directional. No time to think though; after her spell, Sunny finally collapsed!
No time to think, only to act. Take Sunny? Leave the pony that beat me unconscious and tried not once, but twice selling me to a deplorably creepy pair of twins? This would have to take a lot of thought; thought I was going to have to partake in while I bit down on her mane and dragged her…somewhere. Not fast enough, though-the others were recovering, and they would be on us in minutes. Damn it, I was a scholar! I wasn’t Maintenance or Security! Reading required only the strength to put on my glasses in the morning, nothing else! A little orange pony told me to be strong, that I could do this, that I needed to do this. With much grunting, groaning, and internal cursing, I lifted Sunny onto my back as gently as I could and half-trotted, half-stumbled toward the remnants of Whinnyapolis. Bullets ricocheted around us; they were catching up, and fast. Just a little farther… I thought, Just a need to get…in…here!
I ducked into one of many burned-out, bombed-out-looking buildings and watched as the bandits gallop by, cursing and firing into the distance. I let myself breathe for a moment, shifting the weight on my back to the ground. The weight grunted weakly, and I jumped. “Shit, hold on!” I panicked, fishing out a purple healing potion and pouring it down her throat. She coughed, and I poured another. The hole in her stomach slowly closed before my eyes, and her breathing became less ragged. She was still awfully pale-looking, but considering the amount of blood she’d lost before I was able to get her here…There wasn’t much more I could do but wait. I sighed, taking my brief respite to look around. We were in an old office building, “Robronco Administrative Headquarters-Whinnyapolis” according to the faded letters on the wall. The front desk was, amazingly, still intact, though held little in the way of salvage-a few caps and a coffee cup. Still, if ponies used bottle caps for money, then a cap saved was a cap earned, I guess. One of the two stairwells leading up was unblocked by fallen debris. I could even see an occasional light or two flickering upstairs. “How does this place have power…?” I muttered to myself. I jumped at the sound of gunfire outside; it wasn’t anywhere nearby, but damn, that sound sure carried. It did remind me of one thing I needed to do before exploring anymore; as carefully as I could, I dragged Sunny behind the front desk, hopefully out of sight of anypony else who might want to snoop around.
* * *
Who in Luna’s name secures an office building with robots!? Who!? “Halt, Zebra scum! Surrender and be annihilated!” Crackled out the synthetic voice, positively dripping with patriotic and murderous fervor. The thing looked like a weird spider; floating in the air with many legs on a round body, most of these “legs” ending in some sort of weapon. One shot red beams, another shot green ones, and there was even a flamethrower! Oh joyous day! I leapt into an empty office, barely dodging red and green lances of death as I rolled into the opposite wall. Farther down the hall I’d just escaped from lay my first, and so far only, attempt to disable a robot with my bare hooves. I’d had to hop on top of it and convince its buddy to fire at the both of us. Needless to say, I wasn’t in any shape to try and take out the other one. Everything had been fine until I’d gotten to the fourth floor; that’s when the robots had shown up. Some small, most likely insane part of me chimed that security meant there would be actual loot up here. No time to address said insanity; spiderbot followed me in, screeching more anti-zebra epithets and throwing red and green bolts all over the place. Oh, hey, flamethrower, welcome to the party! I dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged again, thanking Celestia and Luna on high that when it came to combat or life in general, I focused more on maneuverability than strength. I couldn’t keep this up forever, though.
Turns out I didn’t have to. My nostrils filled with the scent of cordite, and my ears were once again assaulted as several gunshots rapidly discharged into the floating monstrosity. It dropped, smoking and sparking, as Sunny stepped into the room.
“There’s more coming.” She said with a quick look back to the hallway, “Check that terminal-there might be a security shutdown command or something.” She still didn’t look too well, but I wasn’t going to tell her that right now. I could already hear the gentle hum of levitation talismans, as well as the slow, ponderous thumps of what could only be a different kind of bot. I could only imagine what those ones did, and didn’t want to find out, so when I saw the terminal Sunny was talking about, I went right to it.
It was locked.
“It’s locked, I need a password!” I told her. The noises were getting closer, now coupled with more exclamations of “Die, Zebra scum!” and “I love the smell of roasted bush meat in the morning!”
“Well then hack it! Aren’t you an egghead?!” She shouted back, her pistol barking and spent round clattering to the floor.
“I’m a linguist!” This only earned me a growl and a look of “If these things don’t murder us, I’m going to murder you”, so I sat down and began to work. If I remembered correctly, all I had to do was pick the correct password from a list of words. I had four tries before I would have to log out and try again; if I guessed wrong a fifth time, I’d be locked out for good. “Lesse…pants? No…docks? Really? Nope…tries? No…”
“Hey, take your time, it’s not like there’ murderous killbots trying to murder or kill us or anything!” Came a shout from the hallway. The shout was soon followed by a dry click, and “Fuck!”
“We have you now, you striped bastards!” Celestia’s grace, if I weren’t so terrified I’d be annoyed! “Shut up!” I screamed, slamming my hoof on the keyboard. There was a ping, and I was in! “Locks? Irony…” I muttered, selecting the “Disable Security Parameters” option and breathing a sigh of relief as the machines powered down. Sunny let out a breath as she stepped back into the room. “Well, that was a-“
“Don’t…” Was she really going to…?
“-Close Call.”
Ugh.
* * *
Other than the security shutdown, there wasn’t much else on the terminal. There was a command to open the safe under the desk, which yielded a few prewar bits, a few bullets for Sunny’s pistol, and a recording. I downloaded it to my PipBuck and hit play:
“If anypony hears this, this is Sprocket, Vice President of Robronco Public Affairs, Whinnyapolis Branch. The building is in lockdown after the latest Zebra attack. Per company policy, I have repeatedly attempted to contact the company HQ in Hoofington. Upon having received no answer from either them, or the Fillydelphia branch, I hereby assume authority as outlined in the Robronco Employee Handbook. Due to lack of basic supplies and shielding, I am lifting the lockdown and taking what ponies were in the building to the Ministry Of Arcane Science’s hub in Old Town. For liability purposes, I would like to note that there are non-Robronco employees amongst us, and they have agreed to this action and signed the proper forms in triplicate. Once there, I will…will…Sprocket’s voice became shaky, and I could hear her take a breath before continuing, “I’ll pray that the Zebras didn’t actually…they couldn’t have…”
The recording ended there, but I had quit paying attention halfway through it. “The MAS hub, of course!” I exclaimed. Sunny looked up at me, confused. She’d been setting up camp and cleaning her pistol; apparently we were staying here tonight.
“I think you’re the first stable pony I’ve met who knows about the ministries.” She said flatly.
“Ministries? There was more than one?” Sunny just shook her head, and I continued, “Stable 81’s records show that half of the funding for the stable was put forward by the MAS. Dunno why, even though one could assume our objectives fell under the term ‘Arcane Sciences’.” Her eyes were starting to glaze; it was an expression I had seen many times, mostly during my guest lectures in 81’s school. “Point is, if I can get there, I can probably get some answers about what happened.” I amended.
I was rewarded with a snort. “I told you what happened: the bombs fell, everypony died. End of story.”
“It’s not enough.” I countered, “I need to find out why it happened. We know nothing of what happened in or to Equestria after the sealing of the stable; I was tasked with finding said information, and that’s what I’m gonna do. I can’t just go back and tell them ‘shit’s fucked’. I can’t, and I won’t.” It was true. I knew what had happened; I’d known since shortly after coming out here, but I couldn’t just leave it at that. Whatever reasons those creepy, disappearing twins wanted me for-that was merely icing on the cake. Speaking of… “So where does that leave us?” I asked, “Still going to try and trade me for caps? Maybe third time’s the charm?” Was I being a tad vindictive? Only the Goddesses would know.
Sunny just shook her head, her eyes not meeting mine. “About that…I’m sorry. I’m spry I tried to turn you over to those two freaks. I should’ve known they’d welch.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Probably just trot into a feral nest or something. It’ll be better than if they caught me.”
“You could come with me.” I suggested. Sunny looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Seriously. From what I can tell, you’re dead anyway. You said I was the only thing keeping you alive. What do you have to lose? You also owe me your life, remember.” A little orange pony in my mind seemed quite put out at the last part. True, it may not have been the best way to ask for somepony’s help, but I needed her if I were to stay alive more than twelve hours.
“You’re right, I do…” She answered quietly, “And I don’t. This was my last chance…” Sunny drifted off, looking into the ether, eyes glistening. She sniffed, laying her head on her hooves. I just looked away, pulling my little orange friend out of my saddlebags. I needed a name for her…Appleflank? It was a nice one…
“Ow.”
“What?”
“I feel like somepony just kicked me.”
* * *
The next morning we were out and about, navigating through the ruined skeleton of a city. Well, we weren’t so much navigating as wandering in a general direction. It was slow going, streets more often than not being completely blocked by rubble. What wasn’t blocked by rubble was blocked by red bars on my E.F.S. I wasn’t the best at fighting (nor did I have the desire), and Sunny really didn’t have the ammunition for another prolonged firefight. Or any firefight, really. One never realized how useful all those little features were until they needed them. Sunny, it turned out, had never actually been this deep into the city ruins; the farthest she’d ever gotten was New Falmalla.
“I’m from New Pegas, originally.” She’d said when I asked her. “Played a little too hard, pissed off the wrong ponies, tried to come up here to escape…didn’t work.”
“New Pegas?”
“A city way south of here. Gambling town, why?” She looked at me, then at my PipBuck. “Are you fucking recording this?” She demanded, sounding more than a bit offended. I just nodded.
“Of course,” I explained, “I told you, I want to know as much as I can, past and present. Even in my stable I record everything. Don’t want something important to be lost to something as erratic and unreliable as memory!”
Sunny just glared at me, and I hit the “stop” option on my recorder. Sunny nodded, turned around, and resumed walking. “Put on some DJ PON-3; I need some music right now.” She was angry, I could tell. Why she was angry, however, was a mystery to me. It was just a recording-I’d recorded the rest of our conversations, the few of those we’d had, at least. I wasn’t going to tell her that part, though. Nor was I going to tell her the next time I began taking my oral notes on postwar Equestrian life. I ignored the little orange pony in my head as I asked, “DJ who?” Another glare. “I swear, I’m not recording, I just have no idea what you’re talking about.” I responded, waving my hoof. The glare didn’t subside; Sunny merely turned around spoke to me over her shoulder. “What do you think? He’s a DJ-runs a radio station out of Tenpony. That thing does pick up radio stations, doesn’t it?” I looked down, scrolling through my PipBuck screens until I found the broadcast menu. The only radio frequency I’d ever had to save was the Stable 81 broadcast. If we had felt so inclined, we could have tuned in for some ethnic Zebra music or tidbits of Zebra culture or history. I was out of its range now, but there was one frequency which I could reach. I tuned in, and immediately wished there was a volume control.
“Good morning, Post-Apocalyptia!” Boomed a deep, masculine voice from my speaker, echoing across the wastes, full of energy and spirit. He went on, not losing any of his…mojo, I guess? “How’re y’all doin’ today? Aside from the radiation, raiders, gangs, ghouls, and what have you? Seems we have-you guessed it-a bit of news! Now I know I don’t talk about our Northern neighbors in Whinnyapolis a lot, but hoo-ee, has there been a development or two for you folks! Now, most of you aren’t probably old enough to remember the last time they showed their identical heads; but for those of you who are, or for those of you who want to live relatively horror-free for the rest of your lives, the Twins are back. But yet, a ray of sunshine for your Average Joe Pony: they appear to have made their appearance after a certain pony appeared…out of a stable! Yes, fillies and gentlecolts, we have yet another stable pony out and trottin’ around-with two creepy stallions hot on his tail! Keep a lookout for Mr. Egghead, and if you see him, head the other way! If y’all need any more incentive, he’ll be traveling with a certain unicorn we all know and love. And kid, if you’re listening, good luck-you’ll need it. And Sunny, if that’s you with him, I’ll see ya in hell. That’s all for now, my little ponies! This is DJ PON-3, giving you the truth…no matter how bad it hurts.”
I looked at my companion, holding up my hoof while my PipBuck began to play some song I wasn’t paying attention to. “What did you do to these ponies?” There was also the stuff about how we were to be avoided, which definitely didn’t help things along; what had I gotten myself into?
“He started it.” Was all she had to say. I opened my mouth to argue, but she silenced me. “Did you hear that?” Sunny whispered. I shook my head, but looked at my E.F.S. anyway, and shut off my radio. There were a ton of red bars, and now that I wasn’t listening to the DJ, I could hear gunshots to our right. They looked alike they were grouping around something.
“Looks like a bunch of raiders or something shooting each other. Nothing to be worried about.” I said quietly. I looked at my E.F.S again, but this time, I saw what they were grouping around: a single white bar. “There’s somepony there; friendly.” I noted, “Come on, let’s keep going. They’ll be able to distract them long enough for us to get away.”
Sunny wasn’t paying attention-at least, not to me. She’d climbed up over the remains of yet another city building that had fallen to its side sometime in the past two hundred years. “Not somepony,” She called down to me, “It’s a Zebra.” I almost tripped scrambling up beside her. Zebra? Out here? Improbable, but so was a pony being so mutated by radiation they turned into a zombie. And yea, verily, so it was, there was in fact a Zebra locked in a firefight with some very deadly-looking ponies. I couldn’t really see her; she was using a park bench as cover, popping out to fire the occasional red beam of energy. Her attackers, however, I could see very well. There were three of them left, and they were closing in.
These were what Sunny and DJ PON-3 must have meant by raiders. Their barding looked like leather, only…not. It was cobbled together, patches sewn hastily together, with what looked like blood seeping out of the stitching. I could almost swear one of the patches had a cutie mark on it. Cutie Mark levitated a rusty pistol, her friend a shotgun, and another had…was that a rocket launcher? “So are we leaving or are we helping?” Sunny asked, and for me the answer lied in the whoosh of a rocket, and the concussive blast that resulted from it hitting the Zebra’s cover. I saw a black and white shape go flying, and I was scrambling down the other side of my cover. Sunny followed soon after, pistol barking. Shotgun went down with one in the brain, and Rockets dove out of the line of fire. Cutie Mark stood her ground, though, and fired back. I leapt aside and inside her range-or so I thought. As I prepared to kick, the pistol swung around, and the only thing that kept my brains on the inside of my skull was the condition of the weapon. It jammed, and I kicked it out of her rotten teeth. Two rounds in her chest, courtesy Sunny, put her down.
Another whoosh, another explosion, this one right behind me! I flew forward, landing hard on the hard scrub of what used to be a garden. I could barely hear Sunny curse as another missile whooshed past her. It was alright, though; all I had to do was get inside his range and he couldn’t shoot me! Too bad my legs were jelly, as was the rest of me at the moment. Did getting blown up do this to everypony? I looked up-turns out I was about to find out again! He took aim, and promptly turned to glowing ash. I blinked, looking over at Sunny. “Another special talent you didn’t tell me about?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Ask your friend. ‘S what happens when you hit somepony in the right spot.”
I looked to the small row of benches, one having been decimated by Rocket. The last white bar was behind the other benches-hopefully it would stay that way. If he really was a Zebra… “Satin salue? Quaeso egredi, quaeso!” I called, taking a slow step forward.
“What the fuck are you saying?” Sunny asked, trotting up beside me.
“I’m trying to get her to come out, now hush.” I said, taking another step forward as she nickered.
The beam burned a clean hole through my right ear. I froze, the shock of how close I’d just come to death overriding the pain.
“Kuondoka! Mimi kamwe somo kwa sheria ya Kirumi!” shouted a voice; feminine, but deep and melodic, even with the angry shouting. Before I could stop her, Sunny was firing again, the shots pinging off of the concrete.
“Stop!” I yelled, glaring at Sunny before looking back towards the bench. “Mimi wala kuwakilisha himaya au ng'ombe wake. Je kuzungumza Kiingereza?”
A striped head poked out over the lip of the bench, eyeing us warily. There was a scar that ran diagonally across her face. Her mane was black, and longer than Sunny’s, and her ears were adorned with gold jewelry. She glared at us with deep blue eyes, more so at Sunny than at me. “You don’t represent the Empire’s cattle?” she asked. Sunny laughed, and I just coughed.
“Well at least you speak Pony. I’m sorry; I meant to say I didn’t represent the Empire or her interests. I’m a bit rusty on non-Roaman dialects. We don’t want to hurt you.” The zebra glared at my companion again, eyes narrowing.
“She shot at me.”
* * *
“So what’s your name?” I asked as we picked through the remains of the raiders. Sickening work, but I found that so long as I thought of it as an archeological dig I could keep from vomiting. The zebra had eventually come out from behind the bench. She carried nothing but a scoped beam rifle slung with rope so that it hung at her side. Perhaps she scavenged as she traveled? My ear throbbed, but I had been right about the number of potions we had-it would be smarter to save them for more grievous injuries.
“I am called Oya.” She said simply. We were…collecting together; Sunny was scavenging the other raiders. “Tell me, if you are not a part of the Empire, how do you speak our languages, pony?”
“I’m head of the Linguistics Department in Stable 81. Your language and culture is my whole life. I’ve literally been studying Zebra dialects almost as long as I’ve been walking.” I answered brightly. Of course I was recording this entire conversation; this was too good to pass up! I was almost giddy with excitement. I hadn’t felt this good since Parum showed me her cutie mark! “Close Call, at your service. My friend here-“
“I’m not your friend.” Came a response from the other side of the park.
“Fine. My companion here’s name is Sunny. But enough small talk; I want you to tell me everything! Where are you from? Are you from the Empire, a client state, or was your family native to Equestria? Where is your family now? Are your parents nearby? Perhaps a village? Ooh, do you-“
“Enough!” Oya shouted angrily, and suddenly I was staring down the barrel of what had been the pinnacle of Equestrian weapons technology. My smile, as well as about half of my giddiness disappeared immediately. “Huwezi kusema ya familia yangu kwa njia hiyo! You will not speak of my family in such a way!” she growled, “I thank you for helping me, Close Call of Stable 81, but I aren’t here for your entertainment, pony. I am on a mission, and I will not fail. Are we clear, Close Call of Stable 81?” I nodded slowly, afraid to move any more than that.
“Might I ask what mission that is?” I asked softly.
The rifle lowered, but the glare remained. It was as if she were sizing me up, trying to discern any hidden intent before speaking. “I seek two ponies; twins. I last tracked them in a town not far from here when I was attacked. Once we are done here I shall go there and face them. You will not follow. Are we clear, Close Call of Stable 81?”
I smiled, sensing an opportunity. “You know Oya…if we’re talking about the same set of twins; I might have a more exact clue as to where you can find them.” I mused. Her expression was stone, and I went on: “They’re after us. Me, in particular. Sunny, because she keeps shooting at them. Come with us, and they’re bound to show up eventually. At least, more reliably than if you go looking for them.” Oya backed down, and Sunny just coughed.
“They started it.”
* * *
“So you are sure that they will appear, Close Call of Stable 81?” Oya asked as we carefully trotted along yet another broken street. We must have stumbled upon a suburb of sorts; the ruined buildings around us were lower-no more skyscrapers. Either that, or the area had been had been particularly targeted by Zebra attacks. Streetlights, at least, the ones that were still standing, flickered weakly in the decaying sunlight, somehow still powered by an unknown source. A radroach skittered across the street, stopping when Sunny’s bullet punched through its carapace.
“Last one; hope your plan works, kid.” She said with finality. It’d been hours since the raiders, and so far we hadn’t come across any more ammunition or food of any kind-that last radroach would have to do until…well, until we starved to death, I guessed. I’d asked Oya about using her beam rifle, but turned out her last charge had been used to put a hole in my ear. I grimaced; radroach wasn’t as delectable as Sunny made it out to be.
“Well, in the three or four days I’ve been out here, they’ve shown up twice. So, yeah, I’m sure.” I said, checking my E.F.S. for any more red bars-damn, this thing was useful. “And really, Close works just fine. Mr. Call, if you’re feeling overly professional. All we need to do is keep heading north to the sea; if there aren’t ponies there, friendly ones, then awesome. If not, you said New Falmalla’s a fishing town, right?”
Sunny nodded, putting the harvested roach in her saddlebags. “Yes, but at this point, I have no idea how to get there. Doesn’t that thing on your wrist have a map?” She explained around a mouthful of radroach guts. Ew.
“We didn’t get close enough for it to register, apparently. Look, if New Falmalla fishes, then there must be fish elsewhere in the sea, right? We head to the sea, we get some fish, and we all have a bene noctem.” I explained, looking at my map just in case. While there was no sign of New Falmalla, there were a few more essentially pointless locations that had been added. There was the Robronco building, and the Fallen Ponies Memorial Park, where we’d met Oya. Nothing else yet, though. And from the way the landscape around me looked, that nothing would continue for quite some time.
* * *
“Stable 81 Expedition Log; Entry…shit, I don’t even know anymore. I really should have started numbering these logs a while ago. I should’ve bought more food in Sukawaka. I should’ve just let Oya fend for herself. Should’ve just missed Parum’s party…no, I don’t mean that. It was the happiest I’d ever seen her; the happiest I’d ever been in quite some time. No, if there’s one thing I’ve done right, it was seeing my sister celebrate a new stage in life.
“It’s been five days since we picked up Oya. Four days since we ran out of food. Three since we ran out of fresh water. I can barely speak; much less make a log entry. Sunny said that she doesn’t understand-from New Pegas, to Friendship City, to Fillydelphia…there’s always been something. But here…it’s as if when Equestria died, Whinnyapolis followed suit. What I don’t understand is how we got lost…heading north should have taken us to the sea. But…we were ambushed, turned around…but I have a compass! It tells me where to go!
“But even now, it doesn’t matter. Sunny’s gone to try and find…something-anything, and Oya…Heh, she was skinny when we met her, but now…she closed her eyes, and now I can’t get her to talk to me, in any language. If anypony finds this, and cares enough to listen to it…chances are you’re from 81, and you need to go back there. Mom…Dad…Parum…I love you. This is Close Call, Department Head, Linguistics and Literary Studies, Stable 81, saying…shit’s fucked, everypony.”
Level Up!
Perk Added: Silver Tongue-If you weren’t so good with language, you’d probably be dead right now, and you’ve learned to use it to get what you want. +5 points to Speech, as well as special dialogue options with Zebras