//------------------------------// // Ch. 14: Freewall Has Problems // Story: Merry Stewed: An Equestrian Fallout // by TundraStanza //------------------------------// Freewall Has Problems "Lady, you're trouble." ~Dodge Junction drivers --- "So I'm supposed to find this bodyguard who literally calls himself 'Hire' and see if I can find anything suspicious about why ponies are choosing him over any of the others." I trot back up the street toward the outer gate. "Did I miss anything?" FRED-E beeps a negative. "At least Queen gave me compensation ahead of time to cover this guy's price," I admit. "But really, is it too much to consider the possibility that maybe he's just that good at his job?" The sprite-bot sends a different pattern of beeps. "Okay, those three bodyguards from earlier were kind of terrible, but that's because they made the mistake of aiming at us." "If it can be bought, it can be found at Mac 'n' Tosh's!" "This kid is still going at it," I mutter as FRED-E and I pass him. "He must have a really good set of lungs." My robot gives a few chortling chitters. I chuckle. "Yeah, maybe an espresso was shoved down his throat." I shake my head. "But back to the point, you can't gauge a pony's work ethic with how they fight you and Stratus. You're basically comparing Sparkle Cola to ale; both are good, but for very different reasons." He concedes with a few quiet chirps. I look up ahead. It looks like there's a mare in one of the Shores' outfits and a stallion with a huge spike on his right shoulder. I'm giving one guess to say which one of them is Hire. "You won't find anypony else in Freewall who can keep you safer than me," brags the guy with a spiked shoulder pad. "How about it, little lady?" He wouldn't be talking so big if he saw my actual size, Monarch's thoughts echo. I ignore her and pretend to hum and haw at Hire's proposal. "I don't know. How much would you go for to keep sweet little me safe?" I follow up the sound effects with an eye flutter. "Just for you, two hundred caps," he says with a confident smile. "Okay," I agree sweetly while levitating Queen's compensation out of my pocket. "Here you go." "Good." He stuffs the caps away quickly. "Now here are some ground rules: One, make sure you can keep up with my brisk pace. Two, this is the direct route. If you fall behind or go off sightseeing, I find a new customer." Well, that mood didn't last long, pouts Nuisance. "That's fine," I say with a calm nod. "Let's get going." With that, he briskly trots forth. I find it odd that he isn't charging extra for showing the way for my robot, but I'm not complaining. Instead, I move my legs to keep his mane and tail within sight. He turns his head slightly. "Over to your left is Old Kyn's Fort. If you ever need patching up, the ponies there can help you out in no time." "Really?" I mutter as I look at the large wooden doors in the middle of a brick wall. My 'bodyguard' keeps trotting along past the loud colt still advertising that suspicious general goods store. Eventually, the hollering and crying of the two older ponies adds to the mixed signals in the air. Hire turns his head again. "If you need a hard drink, the Sparking Buckler has something to quench just about anyone's thirst. There's also the Platinum Rush for high-tech weapons, not that I ever need those." "Sure, whatever," I reply nonchalantly while still power trotting. The Platinum Rush crier calls out, "You want something dead? The Platinum Rush has the best weapon for the job!" "Hold up!" Hire stops suddenly and holds up his hoof. I nearly run into his leg and I have to backpedal a little. "There's something fishy about those ponies up ahead." He looks to both sides of the street before trotting to the left. "Let's take a different path." Despite me trotting after him, I raise my eyebrow at his statement. "Wait, what happened to taking the direct route? And... isn't it part of your job to keep suspicious individuals off of your customer in the first place? We could probably take them." "I'll scout ahead!" he hollers as he goes into a gallop. And now he's trying to abandon me. I scoff before galloping as well. Maybe Queen was onto something. This 'Hire' guy is making some very suspicious decisions. As he turns around a corner, he pulls out a gun and aims the direction of down that path. "Hah! Thought you could ambush us, huh?" *Pop* *Pop* *Pop* By the time I catch up, I see the bodies of ponies lying down in uncomfortable positions. I see pants on a couple of them. The concept just baffles me. What purpose does it serve a pony to wear pants? Hire turns around to look at me. Confidence brims through his smile. "See that? If you had chosen anypony else, you would have been jumped by those guys for sure." I pull off my best imitation of Baane's vanishing smile trick. Somehow, I successfully suppress the urge to laugh at Hire's assumption about my ability to defend myself. "What exactly tipped you off about where they'd be?" I ask. "When you've been around Freewall as long as I have, you tend to learn how to read the signs," answers Hire. "I've practically gained a sixth sense for these kinds of troublemakers." "Mm-hm." I look over at the corpses briefly. Confused, I do a double-take. "Uh... you only shot your gun three times." I raise my eyebrow. "How come there are four bodies?" His front leg slides back slightly. "Er, you noticed that, did you? It was... a precision shot. I shot through the vitals of the first thug at just the right angle to hit the guy behind him." I deadpan directly at him. "Right." "We should get moving! The gate's just a little further." He turns and slowly trots through the alley. Who is this guy kidding? I wonder rhetorically. Quickly, I look to the left, to the right, above me, and behind me. I don't see any securitrons. I lay myself back around the corner of the building and focus on my original form. As the green flame flashes past my vision, I close my eyes. "Laas... Yah Nir." My whisper reveals four red auras in the shapes of the 'corpses' lying down. Yep, I thought so. The alley is empty enough, save for Hire. I grasp my dagger in a stance I haven't held since yesterday. I leap out from behind my corner, spinning myself over the bodies. I hear two pained yelps as my blade cuts through their respective necks. The other two 'corpses' roll to their bellies to stand up. I stab in deep to the third thug's throat before bucking the fourth in the stomach. At this point, I catch sight of Hire turning around. While FRED-E busies himself with blasting laser fire at the non-stabbed thug, the 'bodyguard' shakily raises his weapon with his eyes wide. *Pop* Smiling, I switch back to 'Spades'. Hire's next shot whizzes over my head as I swing out K.R. *Pow* *Pow* He has a couple of potholes where his eyes used to be as he collapses to the ground. I can now undoubtedly refer to these bodies as corpses. I stow my weapons as I trot over to the dead Hire. The pouch that I gave him earlier is off to the side intact. I levitate it back into my possession. "I guess your sixth sense wasn't working today, Hire," I say, "Feel free to complain to Tartarus's management about that." --- As I enter the Shores' hangout, I hear the ending part of a performance. "Five, six, seven, eight, ba-bam!" Do these girls know any other songs? I shake my head and sigh as I trot over next to Her Royal Headdress... I mean Queen. "You're back," she notices. "What did you find out about Hire?" "Turns out he had a deal with some thugs in Freewall's alleyways," I explain, "The reason so many ponies felt safe around him was because the troublemakers he 'dealt' with knew not to kill his customers and played dead whenever he shot empty air just out of sight." "Is that so?" Queen's taps her chin and hums. "How'd you figure that out, Hon?" I don't bother holding back my smug grin. "Because the bodies stood back up when I inflicted real pain in them. I treated them like zombies and put them back in their graves. Long story short, Hire and his posse won't be stealing any of your girls' bodyguard business again." Queen lowers her hoof and chuckles. "So it went down like that, huh? Not very subtle, but you got the job done. It seems you're ready to take on a more important task." --- Note: The Followers of the Apocalypse seek peace, the spread of knowledge, and equality of resources. Beware of the quiet ones. --- This new task requires me to check on some friends of Queen that are currently getting patched up at Old Kyn's Fort. Apparently, they were attacked by something or some pony. Sadly, there is no way to narrow down the potential targets without investigating. So to keep up with my attempt at being the smallest of pricks around, 'Spades' accepts the job and heads to this location that Hire pointed out earlier. As I stand in front of the giant wooden gate, I briefly wonder if I should have grabbed Stratus from her cap-stealing -- I mean binge drinking to help me out. Sure, I try magically pulling and pushing the gate. However, the thing hardly creaks, let alone shows any sign of opening. That's when FRED-E floats forward and attaches a hook that's on his underside to the gate's handle. "Wait, how long have you had that?" I ask while pointing an accusatory hoof. FRED-E chitters honestly. "Since always?" I echo skeptically. "So, why haven't you been using that for anything until now?" FRED-E beeps and sputters insistently. "It wasn't the appropriate time," I bemusedly restate his excuse. "You have got some weird programming to think that a grappling hook can't be used for anything other than opening this wooden gate. What about that outer wall's big metal gate?" His next patterns of noises are a bit blunt. "Because I didn't ask?" I exhale in disbelief before I facehoof. The sprite-bot chirps a questioning tone. "I'm only repeating what you're saying to myself because I'm finding you unbelievable." I set my hoof down and shake my head. "Just get that gate open." He beeps an affirmative and goes about completing his directive. As I trot through the opening, I take a visual note of the tents set up around the moderate space. A few ponies are up and walking around. A couple of them even chance a quick greeting as they pass by me. If the Queen's friends were really attacked, I suspect that they are in one of these tents under care or something. I chance a glance inside the first tent on my right and see a rather torn up body lying on a flatbed with two other ponies kneeling next to it. I slowly trot in and clear my throat. The older stallion turns his head up grumpily. "What is it? Can't you see that I'm trying to mourn over my friend here in peace?" "Oh, never mind," I say with a forced tone, "I guess the Queen doesn't have any friends around here. Let's go, FRED-E." The elder's eyes immediately widen. "Wait, the Queen sent you? That's different. What can I do for you?" First Hire and now this guy? All of these attitude one-eighties are confusing me, grumbles Nuisance. "I was told that you were attacked recently and I was hoping you could give me more details," I explain. "Well, we were heading back home to get some return on our scavenged scrap," he tells, "But we must have made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in the squadders' side of town. They pointed guns at us asking if we were locals." He points a hoof to the unmoving body. "The kid is about as proud as a local gets and started yelling back at them. He got the worst of it." "Did you see what the gunners looked like?" I ask. "No, I didn't," says the old stallion regretfully, "I was too busy getting my face kicked into the dirt to get a good look at them. I know the one kicking me couldn't have been more than half my age. He was really strong, too." So that narrows it down to what? Approximately forty-five percent of the world's population? Maybe forty-three percent if you count out all of the ponies weaker than this grandfather? I let out a sigh. "Trowel might be able to tell you more," he adds before turning to the other pony. "Trowel, it's okay. The Queen sent her. She's here to help." 'Help' is a strong word right now, remarks Monarch in the back of my mind. "Is that true? You were sent by the Queen?" This colt looks at least a few years older than Tilaso, but he's still not up to 'Spades' height. "Why else would I be talking to you concerning your health?" I retort. "I don't know!" Trowel takes a step back. His front right hoof covers the left in a flinch. "Maybe you're with the attackers trying to ID us." He sighs before straightening his leg back down. "No, that can't be it." "So what can you tell me about the attack?" I ask. I try to tap my wing impatiently, but realize that it currently isn't there. I feel my eyebrow twitching instead. "Not much more than you already know," Trowel admits. "I did catch one of the other guys calling his name. They said, 'We've got to go, Lu.' I'm... pretty sure he said Lu. Actually, I heard his last name too." He taps his chin before his head perks up. "Tenant! That was it. His name was Lu Tenant." "He probably said Lieutenant," comments the elder. "The colt means well, but he sometimes imitates the brains of wheatgrass." A lieutenant, huh? So... one percent of the world's population? I guess that's a narrower field to comb. "Thank you for your time," I say before turning around and trotting out. "Just come back when you find out who that son-of-a-birch was," requests the elder. "Sure," I reply half-heartedly. I still have yet to explore Old Kyn's Fort entirely. As much as I'd love to head out and beat my current military allies until one of them confesses, I decide to trot around the circle of tents. The next one looks a bit empty, aside from a few boxes and a lamp. Resting next to the lamp is a rather odd sight. It looks... familiar. I trot into the tent to get a closer look. "An alicorn... statuette?" I mutter out loud. I levitate it up for a closer look. The figure appears to be an extremely dark gray pony in a suit of segmented armor. It doesn't hide her folded wings or horn, nor her turquoise cat eyes that look behind her. It's as if she's reflecting on something that happened. Underneath her, there are some bold words written on a silver plate nailed to the brown stand. BE A HERO "Can I help you?" I yelp as I whirl around. A pegasus mare in a lab coat trots in, holding the tent flap against her hoof. I know this outfit. That stallion back in Helium Two wears the same exact button layout. "Sorry, I was just... looking around," I admit. I glance down and notice the statuette is on the ground after that yelp. I smile sheepishly as I pick it up and gently place it back next to the lamp. "She's quite a sight, isn't she?" remarks the Follower as she trots further inside. "Y-Yeah," I stammer. "Who is she?" "No idea." She shakes her head. "The only thing that was on her that might have resembled a name was a carving in the bottom that's too worn to make out." She presses a button on the lamp and it turns on. She takes the statuette in her hoof and angles it so that I can see the bottom of the brown stand. "If you look carefully you can make out the letters en-eye-tee-ee. Maybe 'Nite' was meant to make her sound cuter than she looks." "I guess," I say with a shrug. She hums. "Want to take her with you?" I wave my hoof in reservation. "Oh, no. I couldn't." "It's perfectly fine," she insists. I briefly see a twinkle in her eye. "Besides, I get the feeling she somehow resonates with you." I tense up and stare. Does she... know? Kill the witness, orders Monarch. Screw the witness, demands Nuisance. No, no, I... Let me handle this, I think to them. I slowly nod before accepting the little figurine. I suppose I know of weirder good luck charms, a bottle cap necklace for instance. Once 'Nite' is safely stored and out of my immediate sight, I take a breath. Everything just seems... calmer. "I'm Spades, by the way," I introduce my alias. "Misty Fly," says the girl with a nod. "Really?" I ask. "You don't look like a 'Misty'." Misty shrugs her wings. "I was told it was my great-grandmother's name." "Ah." I nod. "Say, would you mind doing a favor for me?" I suppose I do owe you for the statuette. "What needs to be done?" --- Question: What is Fallout: Equestria's equivalent to Fixer? --- "Oh hey, Spades!" As I trot along the streets of Freewall, I look up to see the source of a familiar voice. I can't help but smile at Stratus as she comes down to flutter closer. I get the urge to sniff a bit, but I don't smell any heavy alcohol coming from her breath. Although, I guess the fact that she is holding a solid posture while hovering is enough of a sober sight. "Hey," I reply, "Did you find everything you wanted at that Buckler place?" "Well, just about," Stratus admits, "It turns out they were willing to hire a brand new face to collect some debts from old tab holders." "Really?" I look at her carefully. "They trust you to be a debt collector?" "Hey! They never specified how they wanted me to get the caps. They just want somepony to get the deadbeats to pay up." She places both of her front legs against her hips. "Can't a woman just do something out of the goodness of their heart?" "All right, fine," I say with a shrug. "I believe you." "So what are you up to right now?" she asks. "I'm doing a little favor for the Followers at Old Kyn's Fort," I explain, "I'm supposed to find a couple of their ponies with high-level skills and convince them to get help for their addictions." "And they think you can cure two addicts?" Stratus crosses her front legs over her chest. I shake my head. "I just have to convince them to get the help. The doctors at the Fort should be able to handle the purging process." She uncrosses her limbs. "Well, good luck with that." "To you as well," I bid in kind as we part ways again. --- I check various corners around the broken debris. I'm half-tempted to pull out my true form to get at least some idea of where anypony is around here. But, I can't do that right now. There's a securitron rolling his wheel up and down this way every minute. As I check around one more ancient doorway, I see some stallion in rags. He looks all mopey, and his hoof keeps tapping an empty syringe over and over. I guess this is one of Misty's associates. "You look like you've seen better days," I comment. "Hey, pretty filly." He looks at me, but his eyes keep darting back toward his syringe. "You got any drugs for me?" I'm not a chem charity, I think indignantly. "No, I'm actually here to tell you to quit." "Wha...? No, lady. I can't quit now." He shudders in place while stepping on the syringe and cracking it. "I need that Buck and Dash just to keep from getting sick. I'd make my own Fixer, but my darn hooves won't hold still." Skin deep addictions are rather disgusting, thinks Nuisance. Huh? Since when do you have standards? I wonder before I shake my head. "That supplier's going to come back soon," comments the druggie. "I wish he'd get here right now. I need those drugs." "Uh-huh," I say half-heartedly. "This would be a lot easier if Misty Fly didn't need your services." I turn around before glancing back at him. "I'll be back either with a bucket of water or a new test for my robot's grappling hook." FRED-E's speaker sounds like it is sparking indignantly. "Relax, Frederick. I'm kidding," I tell him once we're out of that pony's hearing range. "The best way to solve this problem would be to remove his excuses. Cut off the source, and he has no easy reason to avoid the necessary help." My sprite-bot's chittering almost sounds like he is referring to a snake's head. "Same thing," I tell him off. "How much do you want to bet that smug guy over there is the head?" I trot while I talk. "Seriously, he's got shady, ripped hoof gloves and a vest with loose strings hanging out. That is the look of an under-the-table business dealer." As I get closer to the pony of discussion, he reaches a hoof back and scratches his flank. "Enjoying yourself, sir?" I ask to crush the metaphorical ice. He looks over and wipes his hoof on his vest. "Well, well, an attitude attached to a lovely young mare. Can I get you hooked up on something?" "Wow, not even trying to hide it," I comment, "I guess you'd know all about the local addictions, particularly two individuals from Old Kyn's Fort." "You mean Antibiotic and Pure Wrenchy?" He chuckles. "Yeah, I've got them set up for life. Repeat customers are great, but it's even greater when I can get those NCR douchebags rigged on my products. They certainly won't be able to cause s*** for the rest of us. Am I right or is Seltzer Jalapeño right?" Is this guy seriously blind to the type of armor that we're wearing? wonders Monarch. All geniuses have crucial flaws in specific thought processes, I think observantly. "Very well, Mr. Jalapeño," I say while turning to face parallel to the supplier. I hold out my front leg, levitate my dagger out, and pretend to file my hoof. "I'll just tell as many of the locals as possible that Seltzer has decided to keep his cheaper and better quality items to sell only to NCR troopers." That manages to break his cheery mood. "What the hell? Why would you do that?" He runs his hooves one after the other through his mane and sighs. "Fine, I hear you. What do you want from me?" I smirk as I sheathe my small blade. "Here's the deal: You stop supplying Antibiotic and Pure with your 'products' and I pretend that I never made such an outlandish statement. Is that clear?" "All right, I yield," he concedes. "I'll never sell to those two ponies ever again." I mockingly bow my head ever so slightly. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, sir." I trot lively back to the stallion in rags. I see him trying to poke himself with the empty needle, but all it does is create a red pin-point on his leg. "Hello, Antibiotic," I greet sweetly. "The pretty filly again," he notes, "Did you get my supplier's fix for me?" I hold my smile. "Nope, and you're never going to get a dose of them again. Seltzer Jalapeño is no longer providing you. What's your excuse for avoiding help this time?" "What?!" Antibiotic's eyes widen in shock. "Why the heck would you do something like that? I need those drugs, filly!" I drop my smile. "What you need is to let the withdrawal symptoms run their course and to let the doctors at Old Kyn's Fort to help stabilize you until you're ready to function like a normal pony again." "Sweet plucking Cadenza..." He looks like he's about to sob on the floor. But he opts for a ragged exhale instead. "All right, look. Before I can go back to the Fort, I need a little something from you. Can you get me... like... ten shots of Fixer? That should hold me together long enough to trot to the Fort and get help." "Fixer?" I echo incredulously. "What is this, Musical Addictions? The Fort is right down that road. Get off your sorry flank and trot to your salvation!" "Not until I get that Fixer," he says surprisingly resolutely. I sigh. "Well, I guess I'll have to make due on half of my earlier vow." I turn to my companion. "FRED-E, get your grappling hook out." The sprite-bot complies by showing its curved metal attached to a bit of internal cable. Antibiotic yelps and wobbles onto his hooves. "Okay, okay! I'm... going. No need for that." With that, he trots around the debris and gallops toward the Fort like he's on fire. "See? You can move just fine without those chems," I mutter. FRED-E beeps a little before stowing his hook. "I know you wouldn't," I acknowledge. "But he didn't know that, now did he? Now, let's find Pure Wrenchy." --- According to Misty Fly, Pure Wrenchy is supposed to keep tabs on the water talisman in Freewall and is one of the few that knows how to keep its performance regular. She says his problem right now is that he's drinking too much of a different kind of water. It's a very hard water that includes side effects of drunkenness, dizziness, skewed depth perception, and dampening of good judgment. I suppose the best place to look for a drunk stallion is somewhere near the Sparking Buckler, so my legs take me in that direction. "You want the beer that keeps telling you to give up for it? Only at the Sparking Buckler, it's in here!" Funny, I got an alcoholic mind bomb just fine at the NCR's Outpost, I think as I trot past the mare crier. "So, how'd it go?" When I jump at the voice, I briefly wonder if this unicorn form is making me more nervous. I look up at Stratus and sigh. "One of these times, I might throw my dagger without knowing that it's you," I remark. "Yeah, you probably will," agrees Stratus while calmly flapping above me. "I just turned in the debts I collected and got my cut." She leans in her face a bit closer. "So, are you done curing the addicted yet?" "I'm not 'curing' anypony," I correct her. "I'm directing them toward professional help, and I'm on my way to find the second guy." "What's he look like?" Stratus plops down for a gentle landing. I lift my hoof and start waving it around. "Well, he's going to be a stallion in work overalls and if his condition is to be believed, he'll most likely be surrounded by beer bottles." Stratus leans her head to my left. "You mean that sorry fellow over there?" I whirl around to see what she means. There appears to be a dark green unicorn stallion sitting against the back of a short alley. He has one empty bottle against one hoof, and he seems to be playing 'catch' with a barely dripping bottle in his magic. As I slowly trot toward him, the foul stench of alcohol breath wafts in the air. I fight the urge to cough, and fail to stop the first choked exhale. He looks up with bloodshot eyes. "What does a... pony have to do... get drink... 'und here?" His slurring wasn't exactly straightforward. "I don't suppose you're Pure Wrenchy, are you?" I ask rhetorically. "Misty Fly was concerned about you." A faint smile scribbles onto his face. "Misty? Oh, wow... such a great mare... I... I was working on the talisman... and she... came up and... told me I... 's doing a great jo..." His head lulled slightly as the rest of his word faded into an incomprehensible mutter. "Yeah, well, you kind of need help for your alcohol addiction if you ever want that kind of approval again." I keep a straight focus while looking at him. "And I'll just tell you right now what I told Antibiotic earlier. Seltzer Jalapeño isn't coming back to supply you with the goods anymore. I told him to stop." "What?!" His pinkish eyes are suddenly big enough to cover the top half of his head. "Why the heck would you do that? I need the alcohol or I'm going to die!" I stamp my left hoof in front of my right. "Look, I can't tell your age, but I can assure you that you lived just fine without alcohol for at least seventy-three percent of your life. You can live the rest of it, but you need to get help. That help is at Old Kyn's Fort. Go to it, for yourself and for Misty Fly." The way he lowers his stare almost makes it look like he's contemplating my suggestion. But then, one of his eyes looks a bit redder. It's as if an internal tap from Tartarus turned on and filled his eye with a demon's blood. Whatever it is, his brow furrows and his mouth clenches like a wild animal. "No beer makes me... something or other..." He glances to the side, hopefully forgetting whatever he was about to do. "Blow your stack?" D**n it, Stratus! I wince in annoyance. "Don't mind if I do!" he yells as he charges forth. His steps are wobbly, and his random flailing at thin air makes it difficult to take him seriously, but his speed and power still make him a threat. "All right! Punching time!" cheers Stratus as she flies in. "Stratus, wait!" I yell. She quickly lands a one-two upon the drunkard. His head collides with the wall. He falls to the ground in silence while something trickles near his horn. Words cannot even describe how much harder I want to facehoof myself right now. FRED-E points something out. "I know," I mutter with a sigh. --- -Obtained 'Nite' Statuette. Effects unknown, but they can only be positive. -You have gained 'Unknown Variable' status with the Followers of the Apocalypse. Their services are still available, but agitating them further is not recommended.