The Lost One part 8
There's a surprising amount of flavor a talented chef can get out of mildly irradiated vegetables. At least, that's what my host claimed.
Personally, I thought the stew in front of me needed more salt.
Armor Pony said nothing after our meal arrived, seeming content to just stare at me instead. Sure he'd take a bite now and then, but I got the feeling that inviting me here was less about being a good host and more of a way to get a read on his new business partner. If that was the case, the show I was putting on was definitely enough to convince him I was what I said I was. A boorish unicorn thug who slurped his food instead of eating in a civilized manner. This was in every way an act, and had nothing to do with the fact that I couldn't use a spoon.
"Goodness," he said as I slammed my bowl down. "I had forgotten how different etiquette could be out here, compared to what I grew up with."
I belched for effect. "Different? What, did you come outta one of them Stables or something?"
"Not exactly. Do you recognize my armor?" He gestured at himself like a showman.
"It's Pre-war, right? Could probably get a good price for it."
He frowned. "That's most likely true, though there's no Ranger alive who would part with their armor."
"So you're trying to tell me you're a Ranger or something?" I shook my head dismissively. "Buddy, everypony knows they ain't real."
"Oh?"
"Come on... It's an pony tale, it has to be. All that technology and they don't do anything with it?"
He steepled his hooves thoughtfully. "There are quite a few Rangers who feel much the same way."
"So you're serious? You're a Ranger?" I leaned forward in feigned interest. I had figured that out within seconds of seeing his armor, but there was a good chance I'd be able to learn something of his intentions. If he was the kind of pony that liked to boast.
"Indeed I am, or I was." Cliche won out again, as the Armored Pony smiled at the attention. "My colleagues and I had a disagreement over... the proper application of the machinery we'd stockpiled. They sent me into exile, confident that on my own I'd be easy pickings for the Wasteland."
I looked at the dining hall around me. "Guess that wasn't the case."
"No, it wasn't. I made my way here, subjected a local gang, and put them to work guarding the tower. They were fairly receptive once I explained my plan and killed their leader. Even started calling me Professor."
"How very original," I said with a smirk.
"Yes, well I doubt many of them know what the word means." He took a sip of his drink. "Education is severely lacking out here, as I'm sure you've noticed. Which is part of the reason I've asked you to dine with me."
"I always knew I was more than just a pretty face." I winked.
He smiled. "You are, you are. And you're also exactly the kind of pony I need around here. So consider this a formal invitation. If you ever find yourself needing work, you can come here."
"Why would I need work? This new route's gonna get me everything I could want."
His smile widened. "The Wasteland can be erratic. You never know when certain areas may become... impassable."
That sent a chill down my spine, though I didn't let it show. What did that mean? I decided not to press, as the Wasteland wasn't the only thing I'd seen behaving erratically. But before I could change the subject, he did it for me. "By the way, and this is incredibly rude of me, I don't believe I've asked for your name."
"I'm Razor Edge," I told him.
"Oh? Do you dance as well?"
A little while later I excused myself, claiming a desire to check on my merchandise. My host graciously assigned a guide and the surly Raider led me to the holding cells. I made sure to memorize the route.
The Doctor and Derpy were there, both of them, and thankfully unhurt. I shot my guide a look. "You've been very helpful. Now buzz off. I'd like some alone time, if you know what I mean."
"I was told to-"
"Look buddy," I interrupted, "I'm not interested in having spectators. You either join in or you leave. But remember; you break it, you buy it."
The Raider hesitated, and for a moment I worried he'd call my bluff. But luck was with us and he decided his wallet was too light to afford it. He closed the door behind him.
"Oh, thank God you're alright." I sat next to the bars of the cell.
The Doctor rubbed a shoulder. "Certainly took you long enough. What do we do now?"
"I'm not sure. I can't free you yet," I jerked my head toward the door as I said it, "for obvious reasons."
"I don't think I like your plan anymore, Verdant," Derpy groaned.
"Did you ever?"
"So what have you learned?" the Doctor cut in.
I shook my head in defeat. "Not much more than what I could've told you outside. Head guy's a Ranger. They're a group that kinda... hoards Pre-war technology. Although he was exiled for some reason."
"So is that what the Tardis picked up?" Derpy asked. "Something he's herding?"
"Hoarding. And yes, that does seem to be the case." The Doctor thought silently for a moment before asking, "Verdant, has he given any hints as to what this device could be?"
"He's been slightly ominous, but besides that nothing."
The Doctor sighed. "Then it looks like we're going to be stuck in this cell for a little while longer..."
"No, we're leaving tonight."
They both looked at me like I'd lost it.
"Look, guys, one of them's already witnessed me raping you. Or so he thinks." Derpy gave a small squeak as my words clicked. "It won't be long before everybody thinks you're fair game. We can't afford to stay here."
Neither of them said anything to dispute that, so I told them I'd see them tonight. I left, my leering guide trailing in my wake.
Sneaking back to the cells was easy. Way too easy. And, once I gave the sonic screwdriver back to the Doctor, actually finding the source of the energy signature was easy as well.
Seriously, the security in this place was terrible. Even if it was the middle of the night.
"So, um, what are we looking at, exactly?"
I didn't know how to answer her, as the machine Derpy was hovering in front of was like nothing I could remember seeing. It was huge. Sleek, spherical, and painted all black, it dominated the room. It was impressive, and it was definitely what the Tardis had been picking up.
But there was no way we were going to be able to smuggle something that large out of the tower, so I turned to the bank of computers that lined a nearby wall. "Not sure what it is, Derpy. Doctor, can you grab the files on these computers? We can't leave here empty-handed."
"Not a problem." He set to work, sonic screwdriver sonicing away.
I spent the few minutes it took the Doctor to download the files looking out a hole in the wall, probably an unfinished section. Everything seemed so small from up here. There was probably a lesson to be learned about perspectives in life, but I didn't have have enough time to work it out. The view was pretty, though. As pretty as a blasted landscape could be.
"Done," the Doctor announced. He held up the sonic.
"Good." I plucked it from his hooves and mouthed it over to Derpy. "Take this to Twilight. We'll follow on foot."
She nodded, asked the Doctor for the proper setting, and flew out the hole once she got it. We didn't hear any gunfire, so the outside security must have been as lax as that of the interior.
"You know," the Doctor said once we were sure Derpy would be alright, "ponies don't really have feet. Hooves." He lifted one to reinforce his point.
"I know, I know. I was a fan of the show, remember? I know all the lingo. I just... I feel like I need to keep the separation, you know? Keep reminding myself."
His mouth curled into a little smile. "Is that the reason for all the profanity?"
"Not at all. I swear because it's fucking fun." I matched his smile and we both turned.
To see the Ranger standing at the entrance. He was not smiling.
"Good evening, Mr. Edge. I would ask what you are doing in this chamber, but the fact that you're accompanied by your... 'merchandise' tells me all I need to know. You are a spy and a saboteur."
"Yeah, let's go with that," I muttered.
He continued his rant, either not hearing me or not caring. "To think I had high hopes about our partnership. Well it doesn't matter who you work for! My machine is complete, and soon it will be I who decides where ponies can live in the Wasteland! Ponies will pay dearly for the privilege of not having their homes bathed in radiation! I-"
Two hits. My hoof hit his face, he hit the floor. I turned back to the Doctor. "Who does he think he is, Lex Luthor?"
"I'm not sure I know who that is," the Doctor replied as he trotted over to the sphere. "What I do know, however, is that we have to destroy whatever this is."
"No argument here."
He again set to work, and for a while there was only silence between us. Then he spoke up again. "You said you knew about my past."
"Some stuff, yeah." I was fairly sure I knew where this was going.
"Am I... Do you think I'm..."
"A bad guy?" I pointed to the prone Ranger. "Like douchebag here?"
He was quiet again, which I took as a yes.
"Your past defines you, Doctor. All those lives you've ended. All those people you've failed to save. All those Companions who would, and have, sacrificed themselves for you." He winced. I grinned. "All those times when you were the only one standing up against tyrants and murderers."
He blinked at that. "What?"
I facepalmed. "It doesn't matter if you fail. Well it does, 'cause people die. But you try. That's the thing, you always at least try to do the right thing. Even if it's hard or ends up killing you. Screw your self-loathing. Screw the Silence. That makes you a hero, you idiot."
"I thought there weren't any heroes in the Wasteland."
"You aren't from here, remember?"
"Thank you," he whispered, staring at the panel he'd been replacing.
"No problem." I looked over his shoulder. "So now that your little crisis of confidence is over, are you almost done? 'Cause I'd really like to leave before anybody else realizes what we're doing."
He stood. "Yep. I've set it so the heating system will feed back in on itself. In a few minutes it'll be slag."
"And no one will get hurt in the process. See?"
"Alright, I get it." He started for the door. "Let's go."
"I'll catch up. I just have to tie this guy up so he doesn't raise an alarm when he wakes up."
"Okay, just hurry up." Then the Doctor was gone.
I looked down at the Ranger in disgust. It was his fault the Wasteland was the way it was, even more so than the Raiders he had bullied into following him. They were purely driven by id, giving no thought to any consequences. He had a plan, a goal. Ponies like him were why there was so much pain here. Why there could be no heroes. Why Littlepip had to suffer, and lose, and kill. Why she would give up everything she was.
Littlepip never went up against this shit, and her friends would never have to. Strapped to the Ranger's armor was a small knife. I grabbed it with my teeth and pulled it out. No witty one-liner, just a single slash and it was done.
The Doctor was a hero. I, it seemed to be turning out, was not.