Introduction
“Rule number two-the Double Tap.”
So, that’s it then. I killed Crowbar.
I looked over at the empty bar seat next to me. I knew it had to be done. I thought I could trust him, but it turned out when it came to caps I can’t count on him to not shoot me in the back, theoretically or otherwise; and every job in these parts came to caps. But still… He was my drinking buddy. I downed another shot, word had gotten around that I blew him up. Didn’t seem anypony cared though... I gathered that everypony knew he was a cheat. Then I finally got something that should’ve been so damned obvious from the start.
Slavers were fucking assholes.
I just sat a while, listening to the particularly beautiful mare that was our voluntary entertainment. She’d apparently for whatever reason decided to help some of these dying assholes. After a while, I grew bored of the music. Not because it was bad; I’m sure anypony who liked this kind of music would love it. It just wasn’t my taste; in fact, I hadn’t come across music I liked yet.
I got up. It was just about my shift now. I got a pair of spiked hoof-claw things I never bothered to learn the proper name of from the armory after a short walk and started my patrol. It was uneventful for hours, until I heard the faintest noise of a hoof hitting the ground ever so softly. “Hey, who’s there?” I called out. It was the dead of night; I couldn’t see a thing. I walked toward the sound, finding the door to a shack nearby opened. I cautiously headed in. From there I heard sounds of tampering behind a door.
“There you are!” I yelled, banging the door open. A… very small unicorn mare awaited me behind it. I hesitated a moment, seeing the levitated revolver for only a split second.
Wait… Fuck. I was rewarded with two bullets. One to my face, the other to my chest. The world seemed to pause. Then it came to me. I got shot. TWICE! I collapsed... I couldn’t see... I just felt a warm, thick substance pool under me. I thought of the irony. I wondered if Crowbar felt like this when I paid him back for trying to fuck me over. Maybe it was faster, sense he exploded. Then, reality hit like a truck. A really, really big truck.
And I died.
*** * ***
One might wonder how I got so damn under. Lowest of the low, just some random slaver pony who got shot in the face. Amounting to absolutely nothing, it appeared. But before I prove that appearance wrong, you should know how I wound up in such a shitty position, and how I learned it was such a shitty position only after I... Yeah.
My early life in the wastes wasn’t much different from everypony else’s… except maybe slaves, slavers, raiders, Tenpony Tower folk, scavengers, townsponies… Okay, maybe it wasn’t so similar. I lived in a small hut with my pops. I hadn’t known his name till the day I left… Well, he lef- No, wait… We left? Okay, sidetracked here. Life wasn’t too hard compared to the lives of many other ponies. Raiders and bandits hardly struck. As far as I could tell it’s simply ‘cause pops was good enough to keep ‘em away. Slavers learned from the mistakes of the other ponies and simply ignored us. A little more so when pops taught me how to lay traps and shoot, but I was shit at both. The mutated animals around our piece of the waste were no manticores; hunting was easy. It was probably the simplest life one could dream of having out in the whole damn wasteland.
My dad was pretty awesome. He won’t rip you a new one for no good reason, and doesn’t get too mad at fuckups that aren’t life-threatening. Yeah, he had his own fixes; he drank and I’m pretty sure he was a mint-al addict. But he was still a good pony. I inherited his pitch-black coat. In the darkness, it’s almost impossible to see us. Well, at least that’s the case for me. My mane was colored with black and blue. Dad’s mane was so white I could swear it was luminescent… Maybe it was. I was never sure if it was always like that or if I looked like a carbon copy of him when he was a young stallion. His voice was as hard as steel. His cutie mark was a…. Light is the only word that describes it. Despite my age at the time, nineteen I think, I didn’t have one yet. In our simplistic life, I never got to doing something other than hunt, really. And I sucked at that.
Anyway, enough with introductions. Like I hinted at before, things changed the day me and my dad were separated. It wasn’t like we were held at gunpoint... It’s just... I’ll just give you the whole story. I awoke one morning... Nope. It was night. My vision was blurred as I began to adjust to the bright... Lantern. Being born into the wastes, I had never seen the sun yet. One hundred ninety-nine years after the world exploded, the clouds covered the sky twenty-four hours a day hardly ever letting up. It looked like it blanketed everything in all directions... Maybe it did. Even after it disappeared over the next decade I never knew for certain.
Dad sat at the little oval table holding the lantern, his face masked with thought. I rubbed my eyes, “Pops?” I groaned, stretching as I lifted my head up from my cot. He was silent. “Something wrong?” Still silent. Had I left the bonfire burning again? Were my traps insecure? No, he was in too serious a mood for those relatively usual fuckups. “Wha-” I began, but he cut my question off.
“We’re leaving tomorrow” He said, flatly.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Tomorrow, Rain. We’re out.”
My face didn’t know what expression to make, trying to choose from confusion, worry, scared, and shock. Unable to conjure the right face; rather, any face at all, I gave a blank stare.
“You’re not a foal anymore. It’s time for you to look out for yourself. If you stay here, you’ll eventually die. And I’m not talking eighty years from now. Another six months, tops.”
Blanky blank blank. I was sure I could win a blank stare competition with this one. He sighed, “Look, the wastes are a dangerous place. We’ve been ridiculously lucky all these years out here, but eventually things are gonna get nasty. You’ve got to learn how to survive,and you’ve got to do it without me” What...?
I hesitated “But...”
“You have a much bigger chance living out there than in here, believe me.”
Unsurprisingly to him, I couldn’t form words to save my life and my face was still as blank as my flank. However, his serious face melted off. He smiled and patted my head. “I’ll be damned if you think I mean I’m abandoning you. You just need to grow up is all... Come on.” He got up off the chair, heading to the door. The knob glowing white as he magically opened it. I got up as well. following him out. He led me to a shed I never knew about, but was surprisingly close by.
“I think it’s time I told you about your mother.” he said, opening the door to the shed. It took a moment for that to register. Eyes bulging, I could only think, “What the fuck is going on?”
*** * ***
Dad wisely gave me a moment to absorb the past thirty or so minutes before starting off with Mane.
“Well,” He began, “Sense you have her mane, it’s only appropriate that you take her Mane with you.” My confusion was all but expected. He grinned. A white glow coated his horn and the most well-kept box in the shed. Out came a weird almost gun-like object, lacking both a clip and an actual barrel; but the trigger of the weapon was noticeable. It was a sleek black with neon blue lights about it. My first guess: beam rifle. I never had actually seen one before but dad proved me right either way.
"This here is Mane. It used to be your average beam rifle till your mom got a hold of it. Normal ones are usually dull and their magic fuses-the lights-are red. She was a really smart mare. Turned the thing into something near twice as powerful while still using the same ammunition and keeping a very good rate of fire. I named it though. It's called Mane 'cause it was like her-" he paused, "Your mane." I stared at the sleek deadliness in pure wonder. Beam rifles were already powerful; dad said they can turn a pony into ashes, without any kind of modification. I then registered the more important part of what he said. Mom's mane was my own. I finally had something to draw a mental picture of her with. He continued, seemingly to mentally note my satisfaction. "You can repair and maintain it with regular beam rifle parts, keep that in mind. But let's not get ahead of ourselves; you can't repair worth shit yet. We're gonna use this shed to get a start on that. We'll get on that later though. Here's another thing of your mother's. It's called a Pipbuck." he floated what looked like a metal, bulky hoof-band with a screen from the box onto my hooves.
“What exactly is it?” I asked, brow rising.
“Just about the most useful band of metal you’ll find ever.”
I was skeptical, “This thing? What does it do?”
“Well, it can tell time... Keep track of your stuff, show vital signs, tell you where you are, tell you where you need to go, play music, store data, tell you if something wants to kill you... Hell, the thing can even shoot for you given time between uses!”
I blinked. “...D-damn.” I looked at it with new-found reverence.
“Hell yeah, damn. Only stable ponies have ‘em. Just so happens me and your mother are just those kind of ponies. Different stables though.”
Dad told me about stables a while back, and how most are pretty much wasteland horrors trapped in metal tombs and the rest are usually bombed and scavenged by Steel Rangers.
“What happened to yours?”
“Eh, somewhere in here I think. If I find it I’ll take it.”
“I meant your stable.”
“Oh...” He thought for a second, “I think most were slaughtered in a Steel Ranger raid. The survivors fled, but eventually came back after the rangers looted it and went raider. As far as I remember, they’re still there.” I raised a brow again.
“How in the hell did you get out of that?”
He paused, face getting tense. “Uh, well, I left the stable about a month before the Rangers showed...” My brow didn’t come down yet. He frowned, closing his eyes. He was hiding something and he could tell I knew it.
“I really don’t want to get into this, Rain.”
I hesitated before conceding, “Okay, forget I asked.” I just didn’t want to leave on a bad note like that. Maybe I’d figure it out someday.
“One last question.” He looked at me, waiting, likely hoping it hadn’t anything to do with his past. “What’s... Uh, what’s your... name?” I asked, awkwardly
“Oh, that’s it?” He sighed in relief, “I never told you?”
I just stared anticipatingly.
“Heh, my name is.... Nightlight.”
I cocked my head, “...Nightlight...?”
Three seconds later... I blurted out laughing.
He gave a small smile, “Yeah, anyway... We’re not done yet.”
He floated out clothes, a pistol, and a saddle pack.
“...Clothes?”
“It’s called barding,” he narrowed his eyes, “It’ll protect you from dying too fast. Just don’t get shot too much and you’ll learn it has a purpose. And it doesn’t protect from blunt force. At least not decently.”
“And what about the pistol? I have Mane, right?”
“That thing could break, or you could run out of bullets. Not everypony packs energy weapons. Most will carry around a working 10 millimeter pistol, though.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Do I have to explain the bag too, oh brilliant one?” He nickered.
“Oh shut up,” I said, waving a hoof.
“Alright, here. Last thing. You’ve been kept away from her for too long.” He levitated a small square paper. He looked at it himself for a moment before it floated onto the base of my hoof. Resting there was a picture of a white-as-light mare. She had a cutie mark made of boxes with numbers and letters and each and a... Black and blue mane. Her eyes were just as blue as my own.
“Thanks, dad...”
“Don’t you ever lose it.”
“Promise I won’t.”
“Alright, easy part’s done. Now let’s teach a knuckleheaded blank how to repair worth a shit or two.”
“Wait... what’s that?” I pointed at her cutie mark.
“That... That’s called the Periodic Table or something. See, your mother was more than a smart pony. She was a genius with a cutie mark to prove it.”
He levitated Mane onto the top of a workbench in the corner. “Watch carefully. Look through this book, too.” He lifted out both a book and a underappreciated beam rifle from another box and began maintenance on Mane. I watched. That was probably the most I’ve ever paid attention to Pops whilst he was teaching me how to do something...
*** * ***
It so happens I wasn't half had at repairing. In fact, I'd say I was more than decent. I didn't break anything, and pops only had to help twice. By day's end I was more or less on par with dad. With nothing left to do, I joined dad by the fire that's made every night. He had dinner ready. Bloatfly kabob today. Yeah, ponies are supposed to eat plants, but that's hardly an option in our situation. Whatever grows is irradiated to the point where it’s healthier not to eat and we don't go out to town too much; last we visited was three years ago. Besides, meat isn't that bad. Dad says some ponies are really good at cooking and can make the stuff taste great.
Pops and I sat at the fire that’s made every night. The kabobs sizzled over the flame. It was mostly quiet; all that needed to be spoken about was spoken about. Until, awkwardly, dad’s eyes were locked on me.
“...What?” I asked, raising a brow.
Still staring.
I narrowed my eyes, “This is getting weird, pops.”
“Your... Your flank...”
“What about it? It’s been blank for years, so wh-” I cut myself off as I looked down at what was supposed to be a bare side to find that... It’s not bare!
“What the- I have- When did that-I DON’T EVEN-” I fumbled a bit. After catching my cool, I thoroughly examined it. Dad did as well.
“It’s... a mirror.”
“Huh? It looks like a big box to-” Then I noticed that the box wasn’t just a box.... It reflected my dad’s face perfectly.
“What kind of cutie mark is this?! They’re not supposed to... do that!” I yelled, “What’s a mirror even supposed to mean?”
Dad seemed just as stumped on that matter as me. He sat on a dead stump and thought. After a moment, he seemed to have come up with something. “Well... Mirrors reflect... Copy, you could say.”
I remembered what I had been doing all day. Copying dad’s technique... perfectly. I thought my pride about the matter was pride in getting something done. Now that I think about it, I think I simply... Liked learning about something.
“But I was taught how to hunt and trap and I didn’t get it this thing, nor half of the feeling of accomplishment.”
“Oh come on, Rain. You didn’t even try to learn. Your hunting and trapping arrived at sheer luck and we just rolled with it.”
I nickered, “I’ll grant you that. I guess you’re right.”
He paused, “Well, I have to say, that made me a lot happier.”
“Huh?”
“Well for one, my son’s not gonna be a total fuckup. For two, I got to see something I didn’t think I would.” He trotted over, putting a hoof on my shoulder. “If I die before we meet again, I’ll die a happy buck.
And with that, the day closed. We ate our bloatfly kabobs and did the only thing we could do at this point. Sleep.
*** * ***
The next morning... Nope, still night. On the table was again, dad’s lantern. I slouched up, stretching. “This early?” I moaned.
“Yup.”
I slipped into my ‘barding’ as dad called it. It was weird... wearing something. I figured I’d get over it. After actually being in it, I noticed it was very wastelander-like, and it generally wasn’t uncomfortable despite the awkwardness of wearing it in the first place. It had holsters for both the 10mm pistol and Mane. Had pops actually made this? I nickered at the thought of my dad being a deadly shot, fierce hunter, decent repair pony, and grade A seamster. We split all our supplies- food, water, caps, healing potions, the works- equally. All was ready. We headed out our shack for the final time.
“Alright, son. This is bye for now.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
Silence for a few long seconds. Then, he hugged me.
“Let’s try to see eachother again, all in one piece if that’s not asking too much.” He rasped.
I paused, then hugged him back smiling. “Yeah, sure pops.”
We broke off. We both turned around facing opposite directions. I glanced back for the slightest second after a moment of walking. Only the shack was visible now.
“Bye...”
__________________________
Notes:
Quest added- The Wastelander, Part One
Traits:
Mirror, Mirror
Effect: a) You gain more bonus skill points by reading books and you gain 20% more EXP when EXP is earned.
b) ???
S-5
P-4
E-4
C-4
I-10
A-5
L-3