Chapter 2: Black Ships
Chapter 2-
Black Ships
“Boggles the mind we settler ponies built all this in just the last year, don’t it?”
Radar disappeared into hiding close to fifteen years ago. I’d hear stories of his exploits in my travels but never anything concrete on his whereabouts. Everywhere I went it was the same old story. After years of searching for signs, even I had become jaded as I matured into marehood. That name from my past had come calling to me again at the Outpost 52, and after what felt like a lifetime I finally had something.
As we set out along the southeastern highway at about midday in the afternoon, griffons circled the skies overhead. Our covered wagons squeaked and jostled about on the uneven pavement as they were carted along by a trio of beefy stallions. We had a bit of a late start along the road, but things were moving now. It felt like the sun was already beating down on our backs. I huffed.
Most supply caravans followed the main highway towards Junction Town, while others split off along various roads, carrying important supplies for New Canterlot. Our lead caravan pony signalled to one of the griffons that we were taking another route, who returned a talonsign to show he understood. Griffon patrols had agreed to escort us for about an hour from the outpost. As I looked out across the roads, I was finding it hard to believe that all of these extra precautions were necessary. It didn’t look at all like this area was having trouble with raiders as the various reports would seem to indicate.
The lead caravan pony told us to “Listen up!” and informed the rest of us that we’d be taking a shortcut through the wash along a trail she knew personally. We wouldn’t have to deal with raider attacks there, and she was hoping we’d be able to cut an extra day or so from the usual three-day trek by hoof. I was well aware that I could’ve gotten there much faster on my own, but I didn’t want to be left alone with myself at the moment.
As we passed by the salvage operation of the old ruins, they didn't allow us to get closer without the proper salvaging permits. Fair Trade had gotten me curious as to what was so important about this operation, but I was forced to let it go as the outpost got further away. I managed to get a brief look over the Canterlot Valley as we passed. If it weren’t for the half-dead landscapes, it would be a thing of beauty. Now that Equestria wasn’t being marred by constant rainstorms, it was much easier to take in the panoramic view. From where we stood, I was able to see what was likely once a wholesome little town, nestled down in the valley, now being resettled and repopulated by ponies trying to rebuild some semblance of the lives they had before the Enclave. Numerous small homesteads like it dotted the valley, and altogether it gave off the air of civilization returning to Equestria. “Soon, all of the Wasteland might look like this,” I thought.
I could almost see the Smokey Mountains from here too, although they were mostly hidden behind another range. In lieu of a cloud cover, there was now a dense blanket of haze that had settled over them. It reminded me of the lingering cloud of doubt hanging over me.
“Why now of all times...?” I asked, resolve being tested.
Having successfully acquired a contract from Fair Trade, my desire to make something of myself was becoming a reality. Although I was left still wishing that Fair Trade would’ve sent me on some sort of mission to deal with the raiders that had been harassing his caravans, it was one less thing to worry about. “After all these years, he still sends me to perform menial courier work,” I complained to myself near the back of the caravan.
As I looked back one last time at the Outpost, I watched as it slowly shrunk into the distance. There was a part of me that wanted to just say “screw it” and take off running towards Manehattan to see for myself, but dropping everything over hearing his name again after all these years sounded like something a dumb kid would do. Even if the name in question happened to belong to the greatest pony to ever live in the last hundred years. “Okay, maybe the second greatest,” I corrected, looking up at one of the towers.
I was personally excited by the fact that at the end of this when I got to New Canterlot, I’d be a part of the Stable Dweller’s Coalition. “Focus on the contract. Fair Trade and Gawdyna are both counting on me to deliver these reports,” I reminded myself.
Once this report was safely in the hooves of Major Silver Spur, if I wanted I could opt to take a skywagon straight from Junction Town to Manehattan just to see if I could find anything on Radar’s whereabouts. Friendship City was destroyed, though, so I’d be picking up where I left off. Remembering the chaos following Operation Cauterize, it’d be a miracle if I could locate even one pony in all that. Maybe somepony could give me something at Junction Town. “New Canterlot supposedly keeps track of these things, right?” I thought. Sighing to myself, I took comfort in the fact that I didn’t have to come to a decision right then; instead I focused on the road ahead of me.
The sun shone brightly above us. With little else to do, most of the caravan was silent with only the occasional message being passed down the line amongst the traders. Hooves shuffled along as we trudged by what was left of an old skyway. Beat up skywagons and carts were strewn about the long stretches of broken pavement. The odd billboard from the back-when times still trying to sell me things after two hundred years of rot and decay. I turned my head to look at a happy advertisement for Sunrise Sarsaparilla. “I could go for an ice-cold anything right about now,” I said, picturing the tasty beverage.
The advertisement also reminded me that I should’ve remembered to buy a pair of shades while resupplying back at the outpost. “Fuck.” I facehoofed as I finally pinned down the source of that nagging voice in the back of my head. I’d purchased enough supplies and ammunition for the trip, but buying shades had completely slipped my mind. At least until I finished this job, I’d have to bear it for now.
Snowflake was taking expert care to avoid me and shot me dirty looks every time we made eye contact. I almost felt guilty, but not that guilty. Every time he opened his mouth made me want to stick my hoof in it. I was more concerned with trying to keep a cool head so there wouldn’t be a repeat of the same situation.
As we walked my eyes narrowed on a grey-brown pegasus. I’d catch him leering at me every now and then, and each time his eyes would dart off in another direction and he would play it off like it was some sort of coincidence. It was starting to get on my nerves. This pegasus struck me as somehow different from the others, about ten years older than me and easily young enough to have been stationed on the front lines. He dressed in a blue flight jacket and sported a fiery red-orange mohawk. His cutie mark depicted some sort of silver badge with a small flare next to it.
I stared fixedly at him as he began whistling innocently. Thinking that he was acting suspicious, I was considering reporting him to the lead caravan when a sickening thought crossed my mind. “Wait, where was he looking?” I shook my head vigorously and dismissed the idea entirely. The thought of some pegasus eyeing me up irritated me greatly. “H-hey!” I began, but after drawing looks from a couple of the traders I shut up. Instead I slowed my pace and fell to the back off the caravan where I’d be far away from him. He turned to watch me as I moved, and I looked back at him. “I’ll just keep an eye on that one in case he tries anything,” I thought.
“Pick up the pace!” came the ear-splitting voice of the lead caravan pony, and the traders passed the message down the line. We turned onto an open stretch of road just off the beaten path, and the rest of the caravan followed at a slightly faster trot. Our griffon escort signalled to us that things should be safe from here on out, and he headed back to outpost. The lead caravanner saluted as he left.
All of the traders and caravan ponies appeared mostly relaxed, clearly not expecting trouble. Regardless, they looked like they could handle themselves in a fight, should the need ever arise. Spritebots occasionally passed us on the roads, playing that same annoying song. I watched them go by, feeling like they were the only interesting sight out here.
“Bored…” I groaned as we trudged along.
I heard disaffected mooing coming from somewhere behind me. A burly, two-headed brahmin bull named Steve seemed to be cursing his lot in life. His hooves dragged with each and every step. “‘Help the effort; it’ll be a nice business venture...’ Honestly, this is the last time we take on a New Canterlot contract,” he mooed his complaints to his other head, who was also confusingly named Steve.
Steve was cleaned up pretty well for a brahmin, with his manes styled nicely. The brothers each wore fancy ties beneath a single revolver that dangled from both of their necks. One head wore a fancy trader’s hat, and Steve also possessed not one, but two pairs of shades for each pair of eyes. I looked upon their coveted eyewear enviously before finally deciding to strike up a conversation. Anything to help pass the time.
“Steve, was it?” I asked.
“He’s Steve. My name’s Stephen,” the brahmin corrected.
“So, what’s it like being a Brahmin working a trade caravan?”
“We’re actually both partners, holding shares in the Junction City Traders.”
“I thought it was called Junction Town.” I raised a brow curiously.
“It is. The owner insisted that when it becomes a city we’ll have first rights to the name. If you talk to her, it’ll become obvious.”
“So how does that work?” I asked. The brothers exchanged confused glances. “Do you two split your shares between your two heads fifty-fifty, or do you pool together into one lump sum?” These were the sorts of things I thought about when I let my mind wander.
One of the two Steves motioned to the other, then looked back at me. “Steve handles the accounting.” I frowned, quickly losing interest. A two-headed brahmin wasn’t as good for conversation as I initially thought.
I watched the roads roll by beneath my hooves as we went, unable to keep unwanted thoughts from surfacing. Feeling that tingling sensation in them and along my spine that had been there since I left the outpost, I felt some desire to hoof it there faster. The distance to Junction Town felt agonizingly far away.
After a while of walking I noticed a dust colored earth pony keeping pace with me. A quick glance at the mare’s flank displayed the image of a jackrabbit, with her mane and tail resembling poofy white cotton. Apparently at least one of the traders caught wind of me walking back here, and came to check on me. “Well howdy there! Lagging a bit far behind aintcha?” she asked.
“Is that a problem, seeing as I’m not technically working your caravan?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I suppose not. That was quite a scene you caused back at the 52, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, about that...” I let out a bit of an awkward laugh.
“I’m not going to have to worry about you controlling your temper or nothing am I?”
“I’ll be good,” I promised.
“Well that’s reassuring then. The name’s Cottontail, but all my friends call me Cotton. I’m the one running this lil’ caravan outfit.” The eponymously named mare extended her hoof with a tip of her leather hat and I shook hooves with her. Cotton was a chipper looking pony with a welcoming smile, and an impressive-looking weapon slung over her shoulder.
“Woah! That’s a nice coach gun! 10 gauge? I’ll bet she packs one hell of punch!” I said, admiring the handiwork of her weapon. It had polished wood furniture, covered by a stitched leather stock wrap with unfamiliar tribal markings. A bottlecap dangled from the end of the buttstock by a strip of leather. The kind of shotgun for seeing off raiders before firing a single shot, and then sending them to an early grave if they didn’t get the message the first time.
“Oh this old thing? Yessiree, kicks like a mule too. Sounds like you really know your firearms. This here gun’s been in my family for generations! My daddy gave it to me, his daddy gave it to my daddy, his daddy gave it to him, and his daddy found it on a dead scavenger in a hole in the ground! These here are buffalo markings, yessiree!” she declared with a hint of pride in her voice. Then, laying eyes over the weathered old pistol strapped to my leg, she offered, “That’s a nice pistol though, I’d say.”
“Thanks. It was my brother’s,” I replied, acknowledging my own.
“Looks like the kind that they issue in some Stables. You from one of those?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I grew up in the wasteland.”
“I see. So,” she began, though she struggled figuring out what to call me, seeing as I hadn’t given my name yet.
“Erm- Roulette! It’s Roulette.”
“So Miss Roulette, how is it you know Fair Trade, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He’s an old acquaintance.”
“Interesting! From what I overheard back at the 52 I assumed you two knew each other pretty well, given all the shouting coming from inside his office. He sounded a whole lot angrier than I’ve ever heard him, yessiree! Plus that old stallion doesn’t just pony up for any old pony, nosirree! Assumed you two had some kind of a special relationship. From what you’re telling me, that isn’t the case then, is it?”
My ears folded back, embarrassed at thinking of how many ponies must’ve heard us. “Not in the slightest,” I replied. Despite us having a history, I wouldn’t have considered the two of us being exactly close. Fair was just the only other pony I could turn to right then. Not my first choice.
She let out a hearty chuckle “Never would’ve pictured ole’ Fair Trade for the child-rearing type anyways. Nosiree. Long as I’ve known him he’s been all business. No mares or nothing! I mean, no offense at you being young or nothing.”
“None taken,” I replied. Cotton’s natural speech tendencies were a little grating to me, but she seemed like a nice pony otherwise.
That sounded like him, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty at her mentioning it and over the fact that I was being suspicious of Fair after he was doing me a favor in giving me this job. While I wasn’t sure what exactly his relationship with Gawdyna Grimfeathers was, it wasn’t adding up. I turned to confront her about it. “Fair’s also never been a big fan of causes like this either, or Talons for that matter. You don’t think maybe it’s a bit strange that now he’s involving himself with New Canterlot, “Fighting the Good Fight” and all that?”
“For an acquaintance, sure sounds like you know him pretty well.”
“I guess. So all this is out of the goodness of his heart then?” I asked.
“Time changes all ponies, I suppose? There ain’t nopony I know of who enjoys living in a hell-blasted wasteland,” she offered. Fair Trade had told me something similar, so I didn’t put too much thought into it. I could only wonder what might’ve changed in him between then and now.
I grew frustrated as we watched the caravan from the rear. The back of each cart was secured by a tarp, so I wasn’t able to see any of the contents. Smart for discouraging raiders and thieves, and good for securing your load if you needed to make a speedy getaway. The conversation about Fair Trade only made me more curious to find out what they were transporting. “It may be none of my business here, but what are you transporting?” I asked, turning to Cotton.
“Guns and supplies for the effort!” she answered. “Just doing our part down here to help those who are busy fighting the Good Fight! Mostly IF-15 Service rifles. Semi-auto. Not the best weapon around, but they get the job done.”
I turned away, pouting at feeling that my chances of seeing any action in the next few days had been drastically lessened. Seemed this was destined to be a simple and boring supply run. Cotton chuckled to herself, appearing somewhat amused by my reaction.
“Heh, I’ll bet you think ole Fair Trade is up to one of his harebrained schemes again, don’t you? Well I can give you my personal assurance that we ain’t carrying anything dangerous or out of the ordinary! I mean, aside from the guns maybe? Couldn’t tell you why the raiders would want to be risking their hides hitting our caravans, seeing as there are plenty of other easier targets. Raiders ain’t never been the smartest bunch.”
She laughed at the idea, but I still found it hard to believe that was the case. I nickered disapprovingly.
“Yessiree! I might’ve told you something different back a few years ago, but ever since the Lightbringer?” Cotton continued, removing her hat temporarily and holding it to her breast, “I’ve felt like a changed mare. Like the idea of settling down somewhere with a family don’t bother me quite as much as it used to.”
I cocked my head sideways, “Could you tell me more about Gawdyna Grimfeathers?”
“Miss Grimfeathers? What about her?”
“Why does Gawd need all this?” I asked.
“You need a lot of raw material to help rebuild after the Enclave Wars. Junction Town’s just hit a boom recently and they finished establishing New Canterlot Castle, but mainly I’d say it’s cus Miss Grimfeathers needs guns and scrap metal to work the machines they restored down a ways at the town of Hope. That’s what we’re transportin’, yessiree, got loads of shipments coming in to supply weapons and munitions. Enough to outfit a whole army!
“So what does Gawd need with a standing army? I thought the Stable Dweller left the Enclave battered and beaten. Didn’t they fly off beyond Equestria to parts unknown? At least that’s what I keep hearing.”
She returned her hat to its proper place and let out a long sigh, “Some ponies just ain’t ready to stop living in the wasteland...”
“Like who?”
“Well, it’s true the Enclave may be gone, but aside from raiders? There are the Remnants of Red Eye’s Army, Fillydelphia’s still a hellhole, whatever in Celestia’s name is going on up at Hoofington. You could probably pick any spot on the map and it’s got some sort of problem that needs solving. We’d need an army at this point just to sort everything out, yessiree. Thankfully, Miss Grimfeathers is up to that task.”
“Do you really think the wasteland was that bad before the Enclave?” I asked.
“Are you serious Miss Roulette? You telling me you ain’t never seen some of the hellspawns lurking around this country?!”
“I’ve been all over. They never really bothered me, I guess.” I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road.
“That oughta be the first time I ever heard that one! You’re a strange one Miss Roulette, I’ll say that much. But if you’re as good as you talk yourself up to be, then the New Canterlot Army will pick you up right quick, yessiree!” Cotton laughed.
“So is that why you joined? To help ponies?”
“Heck, I’m just after that juicy New Canterlot contract money! Hell if I know where Miss Grimfeathers gets all them bottlecaps, but I’ve known Fair all these years and he never struck me as the charitable type! Me? I hate charity on principle of being a trader, yessirree!” Then after thinking about her answer for a moment she laughed and added “But, y’know helping the effort is its own reward! How about you, what made you want to join up?”
“My family,” I admitted. The words came out but I could hardly feel anything.
“Sorry to hear that. You lose anyone close to you?” She had a sincere tone in her voice.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on the road ahead of me.
There was a short pause between us, as neither of us said anything. It was getting easier to admit what happened, having told Fair Trade, but it still wasn’t something I wanted to get into with a random stranger. My mood sunk a bit further.
“So where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking, that is?”
“Starlight Bay.” I answered.
“Starlight Bay? I think I’ve heard of that place, a long ways north of here, right? I see…” Cotton trailed off, finally taking the hint. “Well If it makes you feel better, there are a lot of ponies who joined up with the Coalition for that same reason.” She offered.
“Thanks.” I said,
A certain nasally voiced pegasus broke my train of thought. “Personally, I don’t understand how you dirt ponies can stomach being on the ground for so long. All the germs, and potential diseases! Ech! Disgusting!”
"Hold up a sec", Cotton said putting a hoof to my mouth, and she let out an ear splitting shout right next to me. “Hey! Settle down up there!” she barked to some of her traders at the head of the caravan.
“Why couldn’t they just fly to Junction Town on their own?” I grumbled.
“Well y’know they’d make some awful easy targets for any half cocked raiders taking pot shots at em. I know he’s annoying, but it’s all part of helping the cause. So you may as well learn to buck up and deal with it!” I growled as Cotton chuckled to herself. It took all the restraint I could muster in order to keep a cool head. The dust coated mare brought her voice down to a low whisper, and leaned in close to me. I turned one of my ears to listen “Just between you and me though? I wouldn’t trust those Pegasi with the weather again, something about em’ just don’t sit right.”
I raised my eyebrow at her.
“We made the right call entrusting the Lightbringer to that duty if you ask me. I'll admit, it's probably just an irrational fear o' mine having lived under the Enclave's cloud cover for so long, but old habits die hard you know." she tried to laugh weakly, but it came out sounding nervous and awkward. It didn’t sound anything like the chipper mare I was listening to just a moment ago. I supposed that everypony had their burdens to bear from those times.
“Yeah.” I replied turning away. I began to look over some of the pegasi the caravan was escorting and thought to myself. I took a hard look at the suspicious pegasus with the mohawk who had been watching me earlier. Suspecting he was up to ulterior motives, I squinted at him. Although he wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Just walking along road ahead of me. One thing I noticed, was that he had a certain weariness about him, and a steely eyed gaze that I hadn’t caught when he was busy staring at me earlier. “Asshole.” I muttered to myself. Turning to the mare again, I asked. “So is that why we’re escorting them?”
Pushing up on her hat she whistled. “Yesirree. Helluva situation, ain’t it? Gawd tried to alleviate relations between us and them after the Enclave Wars, by appointing a pegasus to a high ranking position. She offered the Star Generalship to one that fought by the Lightbringer’s side. The ‘Deadshot’ Calamity, if you can believe that! Seemed like a good political move. Except he turned it down for whatever reason!”
“Turned it down?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s what I said!” she insisted in a shouty voice that caused a few of the other traders to look back towards us, “The reason was something about not wanting to get involved in big military org’ ni’ zations again.” That sounded like throwing away the job of a lifetime.
I frowned. Politics were confusing.
Cotton blushed, twirling bits of mane in circles with one of her hooves, “Mr. Calamity could hit a bullseye on a raider from over a mile away! I don’t mean to brag but there was one time where I had him personally escorting my very own caravan!” And with a lustful look in her eyes she added, “He’s real easy on the eyes too, I’ll tell ya what. Damn shame, I hear he’s off the market now.” She sounded like a filly with a crush. I couldn’t help but feel like this was just an excuse to bring up her favorite topic.
“Lightbringer bless, I’d sure feel a helluva lot safer though if he was watching our backs right now.” she lamented. I still found all the reverence for the Stable Dweller as sounding a bit off to me. Especially now that it was becoming popular to treat her in a manner not unlike the Celestial Sisters. It was getting to the point where I was beginning to question if she was ever even a pony anymore.
Eventually something came up and Cotton had to go check on the rest of caravan. She turned to me briefly before leaving. “Sorry to leave you like this, but Steve needs me to go handle this personally. If I wasn’t around I dunno how that old Brahmin would even make it through the day!”
“Wait, Cotton? I have one more question” I said and she turned to face me curiously. “Why are you helping the Pegasi if you hate charity so much?”
The chipper jackrabbit of a mare smiled at me before turning away and said, “There’s a difference between charity and doing the right thing.” I stopped to think about it for a moment. She wished me well and then trotted off to check on the rest of the caravan, leaving me to stew in my own thoughts. I figured I’d speak with her again later.
We dipped into the wash and travelled down a ways without incident. If Raiders were going to ambush us, they would’ve done it here. It came as a relief to some of the caravan ponies on edge. The pavement had been very poorly maintained after two hundred years, with ditches carved out on either side and rocky hills surrounding us. Wagons had to take extra care not to get stuck in a pothole, because if just one cart got stuck the whole caravan would be easy sitting targets for any raider who wanted to pick us off. I imagined where the wagons might flip over sideways. One wrong step could spell disaster for a less experienced caravan. We soon found ourselves back on the road, and were able to take it more easily.
The wagons slowed their pace, and the caravaners let out a sigh of relief. I looked around to see mostly hills and roads, and it seemed wasn’t much to be had in this part of the wasteland. It would’ve been lonely out here without the caravan’s company. I wondered to myself if there was anypony else out here.
I thought I was growing delirious when I saw something flying over the horizon. It was too hard to see anything from where I was. When I blinked there was nothing there, and I found myself wishing I had a pair of shades right then. “I must be seeing things.” I huffed. With a hoof, I brushed the white stripe of my mane out of my eye.
We climbed up onto higher elevation, nearing the opposite edge of the valley. From this height I could still almost barely make out the haze of the Smoky Mountains. As soon as we left the valley I’d be unable to see them again. Something about those clouds were bothering me. White SPP control towers stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was clear everywhere else. I considered asking Cotton if it was just a natural hazard of that area, but she was busy overseeing the caravan. That would make sense, given their name, I thought. At this time of day sun shined directly into my eyes, as it was drawing later into the afternoon.
“Take it easy on the sunshine, will ya?” I growled.
I looked back at the towers again, grunting. They still had that awful glare. For just the briefest of moments I thought I saw something again. A little dot on the horizon, just over those mountains. Then I blinked and it was gone again. I thought maybe I had gotten something in my eye, but this was the second time I’d thought I saw something. “Maybe I need to get my eyes checked.” I said, rubbing them with my hoof.
The caravan wagons were travelling single file along the highway, and surrounded by grassy uneven terrain on all sides. Radbits and other wasteland critters scurried out of the way of our caravan as we pressed on.
I noticed it first, then one of the traders immediately alerted the rest of the caravan. A wrecked trade wagon had been pushed off into the ditch bottom on the side of the road. It looked as though it had been placed there intentionally. The disturbing sight spooked some of the traders, and ruffled the feathers of many of the pegasi travelling with us. Cotton was the only one who looked cool under pressure.
We slowed our approach. The caravan was going to pass it on our right. It seemed like the perfect place for an ambush. I had a negative gut feeling about this place, looking up at the highground overlooking us from the opposite side of the road. “Things just got a little more interesting.” I thought to myself, looking around the area for trouble. My spine tingled, and my hooves felt itchy.
“What’s the holdup?!” The irritating pegasus whined impatiently. “It’s just a wrecked wagon!”
“Would you shut up for a minute?” Cotton snapped. We took careful steps, all of us were expecting an ambush. I had a gut feeling that something was about to go wrong. I couldn’t explain it. As we came up to the caravan, there didn’t appear to be anypony. There were a few bodies stacked on top of each other, next to a wagon with “Balefire Bill’s” written on the side. It was hard to tell how recently the attack had occurred.
Cottontail slowed the wagons to a halt right next to “Balefire Bill’s” to get a better look at the name, appearing as though she might’ve known this pony. Everypony relaxed a little when Raiders didn’t immediately jump out from behind the old wagon.
She gave a great sigh of relief, followed by a frustrated grunt.
Off in the distance I spied a lone spritebot bobbing towards us, playing the same annoying polka track on repeat. The sun was lowering in the sky, and it was becoming a distinct possibility that we might have to call it a night out here. In that case we’d reach Junction Town in the morning. We could set up camp, but the longer we stayed exposed here on the road the greater chance of a night raid. From the look on her face, I was getting the feeling that Cotton wanted to push through.
I’d considered that maybe the raiders were moving around at night. That would explain how they’ve been evading capture by New Canterlot patrols and moving about the territory undetected. The theory didn’t explain how they’d managed to be so elusive however, and none of the reports on the dispatch had said anything about night raids.
Cotton already had us on a tight schedule, but this was just one more reason to hoof it to Junction Town faster. “Finally, something interesting. Looks like you got your wish after all.” i congratulated myself, with a hint of sarcasm.
Daily Day’s voice was coming in over the radio dispatch with updates on the raiders whereabouts.
Hello, this is Daily Day in Junction Town. I have a new report here on my desk with updates on the current raider situation! It says: “Any trade caravans heading southeast along the roads should be aware of raider attacks. Steer clear of any bombed out buildings, irregular topographical features or just any place that looks like an easy ambush.” -Wait, this can’t be right…
Okay, well we’ve been told here at the station that they haven’t been able to pin down the source of the attacks and, uh… We haven’t been able to get any further information from Gawdyna on the matter either. She’s assured us however, that top griffons are working on it! And, uh… and if you happen to see any New Canterlot Patrols in the area, be sure to flag them down for an escort! Also, stay hydrated, keep your provisions well rationed, and don’t talk to strangers. Be careful out there! This is Daily Day, signing out!
The broadcast transitioned to show tunes from before the war. Cotton let out a frustrated sigh, “Thanks for nothing, Daily Day....”
Steve turned to Cotton and mooed anxiously, “I don’t like us sitting here, Cotton. Let’s move it.”
After thinking it over for a brief moment, she turned to the rest of the caravan and shouted in that eardrum shattering voice of hers, “Alright, what’re y’all waiting for?! Get a move on!”
I was almost daring them to try anything so they could see what would happened. My trusty ten millimeter Pistol was holstered on my front leg for easy access. Meanwhile, my patience for Snowflake was about entirely used up. Cotton had threatened him earlier for causing problems. Personally, I wouldn’t have minded hobbling his kneecaps with a rifle so that he’d have a real reason to hover just slightly off the ground. My head began to ache.
Something was throwing me off my game that day.
It felt like I was beginning to get a migraine. That pegasus had this air of superiority about him as if he was too good for the rest of us, surface dwellers. It made me want to put my hoof in his mouth every time he opened it. Bringing him along was a mistake. “There’s no way that I’m going to be able to handle three more days of this dumbass.” I thought. What the Enclave had taken from me was something I could never get back, and that feeling still fueled the anger burning inside me. Even so, holding it against these ponies who did nothing wrong was pointless. I let out a deep sigh. These were just civilian pegasi, I reminded myself. They’re not Enclave.
I looked around, feeling something was off. Doing a quick headcount of the ponies, I couldn’t find that pegasus from earlier anywhere. “Wait, where’s Mohawk?” I asked, scanning the area. He was nowhere to be found. But I had been watching him this entirely time! I cursed myself. Sensing trouble in the pit of my stomach, I was interrupted by that grating voice again.
That damned annoying Snowflake. It was almost as if somepony had specifically placed him here just to annoy me. “And so, like I was saying I always much preferred clouds to dirt anyways. If you dirt ponies had just let us stay up in the clouds to begin with instead of forcing us down here to deal with your mess, you wouldn’t be stuck in this predicament. So I’ll bet you all feel pretty silly right now. I’m still waiting on an apology.” I would personally give myself a pass to kick his butt if he kept talking. For now I just had to stay sharp and keep a cool head. I began grinding my teeth together. “Now do you prefer ‘dirt ponies’? Or is there a more politically correct term I can use?”
Something about that irritating tone of voice struck the wrong chord with me. I had intervened to keep that Friendship City survivor from gutting him back at the 52, and I was beginning to regret having done so.
“Snowflake?” I said in as soft a voice as I could muster. He didn’t hear me. As the spritebot approached, the looping music track grew louder and louder. I could feel my head throbbing along with it.
“Snowflake?” I repeated, this time at a slightly louder volume. He didn’t hear me that time either, his attention continued to be drawn elsewhere.
I turned and squinted at the nearby tower as I caught its glare again, what looked to be something hovering over the Smoky Mountains on the horizon. Just a little speck. For a moment I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. The music grew louder, but all I could hear was his annoying voice. Even over the blaring trumpets drowning out everything as that damned bot bobbed closer. It caused me to put a hoof to my forehead. I stumbled over to Snowflake and gave him a hard shove to the ground. He looked flabbergasted “E-excuse me?!”
I lost my temper and shouted in his face, “Would you just shut the hell up for one minute, Snowflake?! I’m about to kick your flying, feathered ass!! ” He tried to say something back to me. Whatever it was I couldn’t hear it over that damned polka track stuck on repeat. The rest of the caravan stopped and turned to me with looks of concern. I knew I was causing a scene.
Cotton was shouting at the two of us. It felt like my head was going to explode! Ignoring everything else, I slowly spun around, remembering that not everypony was present. There was somepony missing. I looked left, and then right across the caravan but there was no sign of him. Then I noticed something as I turned to look back to that same spot over the mountains in the distance. I saw several black specks on the horizon, and squinted.
That’s when I saw them!
Against the glare of the sun flying through the haze of the Smoky Mountains, those striking black cloudships that I’d never forget. That nopony had seen nor heard word of since the Enclave Wars!! I was the only one who seemed to notice anything! Dammit, If they would just turn their heads they’d see it! “I have to warn someone!” only one thought racing through my head. I raised my hoof and opened my mouth to say something.
BOOM!!!
The spritebot exploded, showering me in sparks and bits of white hot shrapnel as the thing’s mechanical guts sprayed across the broken concrete. A painful ringing sensation flooded all of my auditory senses.
I wheeled around frantically trying to locate the source of the attack, only to find complete bedlam. The distinctive sound of Enclave laser rifles striking at the head of the caravan. Sudden successions of rapid laserfire ripped into the rear of the caravan from somewhere behind us. I’d recognize those blasts anywhere! “What is the Enclave doing here?!” My eyes darted around looking for them.
There was a high pitched ringing in my ears, as my vision became clouded to unfolding events. My eyes couldn’t tell where the attacks were coming from. I was left completely disoriented in the middle of a crossfire. Returning to a distinctive familiar atmosphere to what happened on that stormy night, some months ago.
“Dammit, no!” I cursed repeatedly, as every worst case scenario flashed before me. I had been itching for something interesting to happen, but now I was acting like a terrified filly. The crackling energy beam heated the air around it, and I was able to feel as a very visible laser shot barely missed my head. That was way too close for comfort.
The shots seemed to be originating from somewhere within the drainage ditch dug off to the side of the road, but the attackers’ positions were completely obscured by the tall dead grass. More blasts hailed on the caravan from atop the ridge opposite Balefire Bill’s, causing one of the wagons to catch flame. We were caught in a crossfire.
“Raiders! Let em have it!” Cotton shouted at the top of her lungs, a thundering noise erupted from her coach gun, and blasted a pony hiding in the brush. I hadn’t noticed him there. “Not Enclave?” I cursed myself under my breath, “Damn, Maybe if I wasn’t so caught up in my own head I’d have heard them sneaking up on us.”
Briefly glancing back at the Enclave Vertibucks hovering on the horizon before they disappeared into the haze. The Enclave would’ve never pulled off an attack like this. Managing to force my hooves to move themselves, I found the cover of a nearby wagon that had overturned itself during the first strike and fumbled for my pistol.
With all the chaos and pegasi flying about in a blind panic, what remained of the caravan ponies attempted to encircle the wagons as they pushed back against the onslaught. Pegasi scrambled to take to the air but some were gunned downed by laserfire in the process. One of them ignited and evaporated into a cloud of red embers, that fell back to earth in a pile of smouldering dust. They were no match for the superior firepower of Enclave weaponry. I trembled as I tried to get my head back in the game, firing off a few shots.
As I spun around in a hectic frenzy, I looked for any indication of where the raiders were hiding. They were like ghosts.
The surrounding energy blasts were screwing with my already messed up head. The burning reminded me of our little seaside village. I got the feeling that it felt strikingly similar to something I’d experienced before. As if my world had been engulfed in flames, the vision playing out in my head began overlapping with the real world. For a moment I could see our little village by the sea. Our tiny beach house constructed from scrap metal and planks of driftwood. I briefly forgot about what was going on around me as I was forcibly dragged back to the events of Starlight Bay where the Enclave rained hellfire down on us and took my family from me. It was like I was reliving that day again in the present.
It felt like the world was playing itself out in stereo. Then, as the specters manifested, I saw them standing there before me.
I froze, looking upon a group of four pony skeletons. They were watching me silently through their empty eye sockets, with bones that were cracked and glowing with embers right down to the bone marrow. Yet despite their skeletal appearance, they looked strangely soft. They also didn’t seem to acknowledge the look of utter horror on my face. I turned my head back shaking, trying to return myself to my senses. “There’s nothing there.” I repeated to myself over and over.
One of them looked at me, and cocked his boney head to the side. It spoke with a very comforting familiar voice “Hey, Rou?” he asked, “Are you okay?”
When I opened my mouth to try and speak, no words came out. It was no use.
“You look a bit tense…”
A ways north of Manehattan sat a tiny village on the coast. The lack of surrounding SPP Towers let the starry night skies break through the cloud cover above the ocean, and it seemed like those moments were almost peaceful. Protected by a natural harbor, the fact that it hadn’t been touched by raiders yet was nothing short of miraculous. If a pony were to follow the shoreline on a starry night, they’d barely be able to make out a glimmer of light that was once a shining metropolis before the war. That place was Friendship City. I had never been to Manehattan before, but I always told my family how I wanted to go. Being able to see it, even from that far away, made it feel so close yet just out of reach.
Atop the nearby cliffs to the north there was a small beach house where the former occupant had passed on. Thus we were allowed to move in there so long as we kept to ourselves and didn’t bother the locals. It overlooked the village, Starlight Bay, named that long before the war. The only way to know this was by the old decaying billboard advertising a local beach resort, although what remained of that had been partially reclaimed by the sea. It was a fitting name, one that subtly reminded me of how we used to come up with silly names for all places in Equestria despite not having a map.
The inside of the shack was small and cozy. There was a bed and a couch that we shared, and took turns sleeping on the floor. Zap had managed to rig up lighting, electricity, and a small terminal to a relay of spark batteries: everything you could want in the post-apocalypse. We traded whatever scrap washed up on the beach to passing merchants in exchange for bottlecaps. It was hardly the best of circumstances, but we made the most with what we had.
“Say, Zap?” I asked.
“Yeah?” The self-proclaimed tech geek looked over to me curiously.
“Have you managed to find the next issue of Sword Mare yet?”
“Sorry Rou. I asked a few traders but nothing on issue sixty-three,” he sighed, and looked back to the old scrapped technology he had in front of him. He had already answered that exact same question earlier that day.
“This is the finale to the arc where she fights the abominable Star Beast from another dimension! I need to see what happens!” I exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep looking,” he reassured.
I moaned.
“We’ve got Daring Do,” he offered.
“Reading Daring Do out of order sucks. Besides, there are too many words...” I grumbled.
Years of travelling around with my family and still no word of Radar. Although we all had our own reasons for leaving home, being stuck inside a compound for the rest of our lives wasn’t something that any of us wanted. I finally got up the nerve to ask something that had been on my mind. “Hey, True?” I asked.
The youthful blue-coated unicorn stallion turned to me with an inquisitive look. “Yeah? What do you want?” Even though he spoke in a kindly voice, he was a real hell to be reckoned with. His short white mohawk had a few tones of light blue in it that complimented his coat nicely, and a quick glance at his flank would reveal his Silver Shield cutie mark paired with a lightning emblem. He often had his old ten millimeter pistol strapped to his leg, even when he didn’t need it. He had always been the leader of the group, mainly due to the fact that he was the oldest when we left and was elected leader by default. All of us looked to him for guidance, so he would always be thinking about what was best for his family.
I kicked back onto the dusty two hundred year old couch, bored out of my mind and proudly displaying my red 36 roulette marker cutie mark. “You said that we’d go to Manehattan and visit Pony Island Beach. What happened to that?”
“We will. I promised you that we would, didn’t I? But y’know...”
“But what?” I cut him off, taking a long chug from the bottle of Sunrise Sarsaparilla he had been saving. “Seems like you only keep promises when you want to, molerat breath.”
He groaned at the childish insult, “That’s not fair, you know it’s complicated!”
“I know, I know,” I droned. Looking closer, I noticed that the underside of the bottlecap was marked with a blue star. “Hey, a lucky star cap!” I exclaimed, “I get to make a wish now!” The rumor was that if you collected enough of these things, any wish could come true.
“Look, Rou,” my sister Cherish began. She was slightly taller and far more elegant than I, the tomboy of the group. She had an amber coat and tri-colored mane sporting magenta, orange, and yellow. Cherish always carried a sort of graceful air about her, often trying and failing to act as mediator for the group. “You know you’re my little sister, and I love you. Listen, we’ve all been talking…”
“This place is nice and all, but it’s so boring. How long are we planning on staying here?”
True Blue cut right to the chase, “Rou, we’re staying here in Starlight Bay. We don’t want to fight anymore.”
“Why? Are you worried I’ll kick your butt again?” I smirked, cracking my hoof joints.
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied flatly.
I ignored the uneasy air in the room, while trying to balance the bottlecap on my forehead. “So what should I wish for?” I asked excitedly.
After an awkward silence, I threw out a few options of my own. “Maybe I’ll wish for Wheelie to finally get laid? Better than a lewd pinup of Scootaloo!” I laughed to myself, seeming to be the only pony in the room to be relaxed and carefree. Wheelie was in another corner of the room fixing up his precious Red Rocket. The scooter enthusiast’s brow furrowed in response, although he pretended not to hear.
True began again, “We’ve been at this for a while, and all I want is to keep you guys safe. But I’m worried-”
“Star light, star bright, first bottlecap I’ve found tonight… I wish True Blue would stop worrying all the time and enjoy himself.” I grinned. It was also daytime, but the rhyme carried the same effect either way.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Rou, you’re not making this easy for us.”
“You know that biting, nagging itch in your hooves that makes us antsy if you stay in one place for too long? I know you all feel it too! We’re born wastelanders. I feel it now more than ever! How I just want to get back out there and kick some more raider butt!”
“Come on, be real here, Rou! Do you think we're ever really going to find out about what happened to Radar? It’s been years! We’re all tired of putting up with this charade, and none of us want to fight anymore. You’re the only one dragging this out! It was fun while it lasted, but maybe it’s time we settled down in a real home?”
“The wasteland is our real home,” I asserted.
“Radar gave all of us a second chance at a peaceful life. So I think it’s time that you gave some serious thought to settling down here with us, like he would’ve wanted for you-”
I shot up on the couch and the bottlecap fell to the floor with a ping. “Don’t you fucking dare bring Radar into this, True! If you loved it so much, then why didn’t you just stay back at the compound? You were the one who wanted to leave in the first place!”
“Can we not fight over this?” came an exasperated voice. Zap was over in the nearby corner fiddling with a war-time model spark-battery transistor radio. “This circuit board is corroded to hell and back. Gonna need to replace the capacitors and see if I can’t clean this sucker off.”
“No, I’m pretty sure we’re fighting over this,” I reaffirmed.
“Oh, good,” he scoffed, examining the components laid out in front of him. “I was just checking to make sure.”
My sister turned to Wheelie with a persistent look urging him to get involved. The orange stallion shrugged, preferring to stay out of it. “Hey, don’t look at me.” he said before turning back to his current task of fixing his scooter.
“Oh, so you’re gonna side with them Wheelie? Gee, thanks! I liked you better before you got all quiet!”
He grunted.
“Rou, don’t be mean to Wheelie!” my sister shouted.
I clenched my teeth and shouted back with righteous indignation, “I always do what you want, True! Don’t you forget that I walked out on Fair Trade for you! Even though I told you I wanted to stay!”
“We’ve been over this before. He was a bad pony! We couldn’t trust him! Jeez, why do you always have to be like this?!”
“Be like what?” I asked. True seemed to regret his words, but it was too late. It was already out in the open, and none of the others had the guts to say anything.
“Aha!” Zap exclaimed, as the radio came to life. An Enclave broadcast repeated across all stations, overriding most shorter frequency signals. “Damn. I think I’ve heard this one before” he joked. It did little to lighten the mood. The pony they called “The Stable Dweller” had raised the Enclave’s ire by killing off their High General, and one of the members of the High Council. Her exploits were already becoming well known across the wasteland. and the Enclave had decided to respond in force. Constant storm cycles and broadcasts interrupted the usual radio shows.
“Be like what?” I asked again, my voice wavering slightly, “A nuisance? You always do whatever you want, and I don’t get a say in anything! You always think you know best. Maybe I need this! Did you ever think of that? At least Fair Trade got me for who I was! If Radar was here, he’d be able to see that too!”
“We only want what’s best for you, Rou.” My sister tried.
“Well, I don’t want what’s best!”
“Maybe you should think about it sometime instead of only thinking about yourself!” True barked, “If you don’t want to be a part of this family, then fine. The door is right there!”
“It’s not like that… I like exploring the wasteland with all of you. You’re the only family I have…” None of the others had words to offer me. They just turned their heads away, ashamed to look me in eyes. I bit my lower lip.
True Blue was the only one who could strike up the courage to say anything. “We’re tired of playing around in the wasteland. You’re not a filly anymore. Once all this blows over if you want to go and find Radar, or go back to those Mercenaries then you’ll have to do it without us. It’s time for you to grow up Rou!”
The room was silent for a good while. My voice carried a tone of hurt in it, as I repeated, “But you promised me…”
He didn’t say anything, and I felt my eyes begin to tear up.
“C’mon Rou… don’t take it like that.” He groaned, trying to reason with me. It was no use, the damage was already done.
Grabbing the star bottlecap off the floor, I held it close to my chest. “Well, I wish Radar was here right now!” I shouted. Fighting back tears, I burst out of the front door and into a full gallop. Rocks raced past me as I ran along the jagged cliffside. I ran until I could just barely make out the little house in the distance, stopping just at the edge. I looked out across the water, and froze as gigantic waves crashed against the rocks below. For a while I just stared out over the ocean, observing the scene that was beginning to play out in front of me.
True Blue’s voice called out to me, being picked up by the winds. It wasn’t long before he came galloping after me and skid to a halt near where I was standing. “Don’t go running off like that!” He began, but then froze as he could see now what I was looking at. We both stood there in silence, with nothing but the waves crashing against the shores of the scrap riddled beach to fill the void.
I could just make out what looked to be monstrous black forms hovering over the tiny speck of a city that was Manehattan. They were too far off in the distance to give a detailed description, but I didn’t need much to be able to tell that they were Grand Pegasus Enclave battleships. An entire fleet of them.
“What do you think those ships are doing over Manehattan?” I asked in a low trembling voice, feeling genuine concern for all of us. Perhaps for the first time in my life.
“Nothing good,” he answered.
A voice far off in the distance called out our names, muffled by the winds. We both turned to see Zap running towards us, wearing a grim look on his face. He stopped just short, wheezing and gasping for breath. “H-hey guys!” It took a moment before his lungs finally caught up with him. The tech geek wasn’t in nearly as good shape as the two of us. “Come back inside! You’re gonna want to listen to this!”
We sensed a storm brewing in the distance.
I snapped back to reality, realizing what had just happened. The ships were nowhere to be seen.
More shots from Enclave weapons emanated from the tall, dead grass from the side of the road and from over a nearby ridge. Yet, even with that knowledge I still couldn’t get a clear read on their position. That’s right the Enclave was gone. My mind finally caught up to the catastrophe at hoof, as I recalled that I was still pinned behind a wagon in the midst of a burning caravan wreck. “Dammit… I’m seeing ghosts now.”
Chaos had overtaken the caravan. When things began to turn south and one of the wagons had attempted to book it towards Junction Town, they were gunned down like the others. The scene of a wagon flipped over in a ditch just a short distance from me down the highway painted its own picture of what happened. It didn’t manage to make it very far before being unsympathetically down like the others.
The remaining caravaners had tried desperately trying to fend off the raiders, but they didn’t fare much better. I turned my head to see the last one gunned down as he was hit by a malignant energy beam. He turned to look at me as he glowed for a few moments before bursting into a pile of ashes just a few seconds later. I winced a little.
It was fortunate that my brain had allowed me to place myself behind some decent cover before gracing me with those extremely vivid flashbacks. It was a miracle that I didn’t get shot during all of that. I noticed my pistol was missing. Likely I had dropped it while I was busy spacing out. “Fuck it all.” I hoofed through my saddlebags frantically, most everything was accounted for. Cotton and Steve were nowhere in sight, and I was a sitting duck here.
As far as I could tell, I was the only one left. There were nothing but ash piles and half-charred bodies scattered everywhere. Then my eyes fell upon Cotton’s hat lying on the road next to some burnt remains near one of the wagons. I felt a sickeningly bad feeling in my gut like I was going to lose my lunch. I breathed deeply trying to calm my shaking nerves, reminding myself that “I’m not afraid.”
I tried not to look at the horrible sight.
Searching everywhere I could think of for another weapon on immediate notice, I prayed to the Lightbringer that I’d be able to find Cotton’s coach gun somewhere closeby. Though I had no such luck. I ended up grabbing one of the IF-15 Service rifles off the cart and loaded it with an already prepared magazine. Firing the thing would be a damn chore without a battle saddle, but I could manage if I needed to. As I attempted to feed the strap through with my teeth, I found that my body was shaking on its own. I reminded it that “I’m not scared.”, but it didn’t hear me.
After a minute or two, the firing stopped.
“I’m not afraid. They’re only raiders!” I repeated, but for some reason I was unable to stop myself. The vivid memories from that day were flashing in my eyes and I almost felt like I was going to break down.
I sat cowering behind the wagon, trying to remind myself that I wasn’t afraid. The number of raiders I had killed personally in the wasteland was a long lost secret, because I’d lost count. Getting caught in the middle of a firefight wasn’t something new for me. In my mind I knew that I wasn’t scared of raiders, but my body seemed to think otherwise. “Get a grip already, they’re just raiders!” I cursed myself for being so weak.
There were no silhouettes in the tall grass. It was too difficult for me to tell at first how many of them were hiding. No way to pinpoint where all the shots were coming from either. These must have been the raiders hitting Gawd’s caravans. I could tell easily that they weren’t your average raiders from the wasteland. They were organized and playing it smart, firing from behind the ridge like that. This wasn’t some half assed attack, but none of that scared me. The truth was, it wasn’t the raiders that scared me most.
My ears perked up. From the side of the road I could hear several voices with accompanying hoofsteps approaching the burning caravan wreckage from behind the ridge, but they were muffled and difficult to make out. A quick peek behind the wagon revealed nothing. I could only guess based on the general direction of where the voices were coming from. They hadn’t noticed me yet hiding behind the overturned wagon.
I had come out mostly unscathed, at least physically. This wasn’t my first time seeing dead ponies, nor this manner of corpses. Something about the fact they were using Enclave weapons had shaken me to the core. The shaking stopped. Breathing to steady myself, I listened as the hoofsteps came closer and stopped about ten yards from where I was hiding. I exhaled again slowly.
Soon my any indication of fear was replaced by something else. Something red hot and fiery was burning inside of me, and it felt like my blood was starting to boil. Anger took hold of me. Fair Trade’s warning not to get too emotional echoed in my head, but i brushed it aside. Fuck that! The entire reason for the New Canterlot army existing was for moments like this! I gripped rifle, ready to burst out from hiding, but I quickly caught hold of myself remembering that these were Enclave weapon and exhaled. My temper had already gotten me into enough trouble for one day without me dying over it. Those weapons still terrified me.
Counting the number of voices in my head, I guessed there were about five of them. Except it was difficult to tell from where I was sitting. I could pick out a higher pitched raspy voice among them, “It was this caravan, right? We’re taking a fucking huge risk out here so this better be worth it!”
“Yeah that’s what he said... “ Another of them replied in a disgruntled tone of voice. “I don’t see anything here, that tipoff must’ve been bogus.”
The first voice became aggravated, and the of sound multiple spells deactivating at once echoed closeby. “Fuck, that bastard must’ve double crossed us! I knew we couldn’t trust him! When we get back let’s tell Jagged, that sonovabitch gave us the wrong info!”
The name Jagged didn’t ring any bells.
“Settle down, Sting.” One of them chided. “Fuck you!” The raider they called Sting hissed back angrily.
I slowly peeked out from behind the wagon to get a better look, and they were all standing there. They looked like raiders, for the most part. Except that they'd somehow managed to get their grimy hooves on Enclave weaponry. All of them possessed a scar or some sort of cut on their face. A mark above the lip. A sideways cut stitched up to look like a smile, on one side of the mouth. One of them wearing an eyepatch. Together they bore the same insignia of a pony skull matched with a knife somewhere on their person. Their armor was also not too far off from normal merc’s gear, so they could pass off as normal wastelanders if they needed to.
A sequence of events began to play out in my head, as I formulated the best way to take them on. I began to listen in on their conversation.
“Damn, there’s nothing here but these shitty Service guns! Are you telling me we just hit one of Gawd’s caravans for nothing?! I bet you that trash is laughing at me right now!”
“Don’t fret over it. Once the Boss catches up with him, he’s gonna be lying in a ditch somewhere. Jagged’s not a pony you cross and live to tell about.” his larger associate with the eyepatch stated in a more measured tone.
‘Sting’, appeared to be a scrawny male unicorn with a droopy teal green mohawk. He carried naturally sly looking features, and bore the cutie mark of a poison tipped dagger on his flank. The pony must have liked barking out orders to try and give off the impression that he was in charge.
“Search the bodies and the wagons for anything useful.” The eyepatched pony spoke in a low rumbly voice, “It’ll be easier on account of most of these folks being nothing but ashes now. “
“Hey I’m the one giving the orders here!” Sting barked, then he motioned up to one of the SPP Towers and added, “But yeah, hurry it up! Also, Jagged’s paranoid of those damned towers all of a sudden. Said we shouldn’t stick around for too long.”
“That’s our Jagged Knife for ya.” One of them laughed and the rest joined in. Sick freaks. While they were busy talking amongst themselves, I brought my rifle’s wooden buttstock to rest against my body. I had the perfect opportunity while they were distracted.
All of them were clustered together in a group, so it would be a cinch. I edged out from behind cover using the wagon to help support the rifle pressing up against me. Right here. I’d take them all out in one fell swoop. “I’ve got you right where I want you, molerat breath” I thought.
All of a sudden something shifted in the wagon, causing me to jump and one of the raiders to look back in my direction. I darted behind my makeshift cover, hoping they hadn’t seen me. A few moments passed and I thought maybe I was in the clear, but then one of them called out to me in a cheeky flirtatious tone, “Y’know we can see you back there, girly! Come out, and maybe we’ll play nice!”
“Fuck.” I silently cursed to myself. The moment I stepped out from behind cover with a rifle they’d just zap me. There was no way I could take them all on by myself. The wagon I was using for cover was thick enough to buy me a little bit of time, but sooner or later their concentrated shots would burn through and roast me. Taking them head on was no good. Enclave weapons’ one weakness was that they were prone to overheating, but if you’re waiting for your opponent’s weapon to overheat mid battle you may as well get down and pray to the Lightbringer to save you.
“Maybe if I can buy myself some time, a New Canterlot patrol will fly close enough to spot me, or they’d get caught by other ponies in the area?” I thought. “Somepony? The Lightbringer?!” Fuck me, who was I kidding? I huffed, “It looks like I’ll just have to wing it.”
A moment or two passed by. Sting called to me again, becoming impatient. “We’re waiting…”
Without further hesitation I threw my Rifle out from behind my cover and heard it clatter on the pavement in front of them. I stuck my hooves up where they could see them and shouted “Don’t shoot! I’m just a courier from the 52 carrying important information for New Canterlot!”
They paused for a moment, and I heard Sting’s voice call out to me. “How do we know that you ain’t just hiding a pistol back there?”
“What am I supposed to do with a pistol?” I called back.
“I dunno, I can’t still see you! How about you step out from behind that wagon and we’ll chat, nice and civilized-like?”
I complied with his demands, not making any sudden movements. Stepping out into the open, I saw there were two on the left, and two on the right, with Sting in the middle. The raiders seemed relaxed, like they didn’t consider a young mare like me to be a threat and were liking their odds. “How gracious of them,” I thought.
Sting appeared to loosen up a bit. “I like a mare with a bit of fire. You’re a bit cute, y’know?” he laughed, making poor attempts to flirt as he eyed my goods, “Why don’t you come back with us later?”
“You’re going to be disappointed when you find out that I don’t take kindly to being shot at.” I replied, swiftly rejecting his proposal. “What are raider shitbags doing this deep in Gawd’s Territory?” I asked, slowly continuing to approach them.
He seemed to be mildly amused, “Aw gee, we ain’t raiders! We’re just wandering gentlecolts out for an afternoon stroll!”
"This is just some misunderstood circumstances” he pointed his pistol back at me again and reiterated,“Why don’t you tell us what you got that’s so important to that old bird Gawdyna, sweet cheeks?”
“All I’ve got here is boring old trade reports. So unless you’re interested in Fair Trade’s bookings and ledgers, you’re shit out of luck.” I stated matter-of-factly.
“Alright, the attitude was cute at first but I’m starting to lose my patience,” he snarled.“We’ve got you outnumbered and you being compliant at the moment is the only reason we don’t proliferate you with these here Enclave guns right now! I might just do it for funsies now.”
Ignoring his orders, I kept walking towards him.
“Hold it right there!” Sting barked, waving his energy pistol about. “You deaf or something? Don’t come any closer!” He lost his temper when I didn’t respond initially, aiming his weapon in my face.
I stopped just in front of him, holding as deadpan a poker-face as I could, and looked him straight in the eye. “Y’know, that laser pistol won’t do you any good with the safety turned on. Idiot.”
The raider paused for a moment, dumbfounded at my suggestion. They all exchanged weird looks amongst themselves as he began aggressively inspecting his energy pistol, trying to locate the safety switch. After about ten seconds he finally came to the realization, “Wait a minute!!! Enclave weapons don’t have safety’s-”
WHAMM!!!! A right cross flew straight across his muzzle sending the unicorn toppling to the ground with his nose sufficiently bloodied. His weapon clattered to the ground with him.
Fun fact, Enclave weapons only have two settings: Powered-up and Powered-down. If they were smarter they might’ve picked up on that.
They all scrambled to pull up their weapons, but they looked like bumbling idiots who had just been caught with their pants down. The big burly raider with the eyepatch directly on Sting’s right was the first one who managed to bring up his weapon and fire at me. I firmly planted myself on the ground and pivoted towards him, as I ducked underneath his line of sight.
The crackling energy beam erupted from the weapons emitter gem, and missed me at point blank. Smacking the weapon from his grip with one hoof, I delivered a swift uppercut to his face with the other. I grabbed him by the shirt with my teeth, and him backwards into the smiley faced raider behind him. They both tasted pavement, as they fell on top of each other.
That was three of them out of the fight, floored by my martial prowess.
The one with tough looking armor and a scar on his lip was directly to Sting’s left. He finally managed to bring up his weapon, firing off a few shots in rapid succession. All of them missed as I crouched to one side underneath him. He reared up to defend himself. I wish I could’ve seen the last look on his face as my hoof kicked up into his neck, and I heard the sickeningly loud CRACK!
He landed dead on the ground, with several broken vertebrae and a completely dislocated jaw. “Four.” I was grinning like a madmare out of hell.
“That bitch killed No Dice! That’s it, tell Jagged I’m out!” The only raider left standing was the one with the unfortunate scar on his face. He had been busy fumbling his weapon the whole time, and now was turning to run away but I was too fast for him. I threw another haymaker that clocked him in the back of the head. The poor raider was sent tumbling forwards, and fell flat on his face.
Sting lurched back up at me with a knife, but my hoof met him halfway. He went straight back down to the floor with a black eye and a bloodstained muzzle. I punched him again for good measure and the knife clanged across the pavement.
The big one with the eyepatch whom I’d tossed earlier, had also managed to get up for round two. He rushed over to help his buddy, throwing a right hook that landed in my face. He looked surprised when I barely flinched and turned back towards him, the hoof still digging into my cheek. “Is that it?” I complained, and threw one of my own back at him which struck in his non eyepatched eye.
He reared back grasping his precious face, and I swiveled around to deliver a strong buck to his chest. Several ribs cracked under the force as he was sent flying into the air a few meters. The raider landed hard with a thud and the wind knocked out of him, clutching his chest with a hoof.
The lot were left battered and bruised on the hot hard pavement. “Heh, I’m a regular one-mare stampede” I quipped. Then I turned back to Sting with a menacing grin. Standing over the scrawny raider still trying to gather his faculties, I cracked my joints. “I’m going to enjoy this…” I menaced, and proceeded to trample all over his face. Unfortunately, I only managed to get in a couple of blows in before my hoof struck the pavement. I blinked twice to make sure I hadn’t taken one too many knocks to the head. Then I looked up and realized. “Unicorns…” I grumbled.
Sting had teleported a good distance away from me down the road. His somewhat effeminate face now slightly resembled pounded meat, and it sounded like he was having difficulty breathing through his nose. I snorted, trying to hold in my laugh.
“I’m taking these as evidence.” I taunted, stashing away his laser pistol.
“You’re gonna regret that girly!” Sting shouted back at me picking up and wildly waving his knife around. He looked humiliated after being both beaten senseless by me and having his guns confiscated. The others had also managed to crawl away during that time.
“Who are you calling girly? If you can’t even take a punch like that, you’d better get to galloping.” I yawned facetiously as I walked over to pick up my IF-15 Service Rifle off the ground, aiming down the sights at them. I fired off a few shots off in their direction to make my point clear, and that startled them enough to send them running.
“And whoever this Jagged Knife guy is, I’ll kick his butt too!” I shouted after him, which I followed with a few more shots. They all split off in various directions and disappeared from sight leaving me alone at the center of a burning caravan wreck.
“That was fun.” I sighed, as I I looked back at the corpse of the one raider I killed..
I felt pretty proud of myself, taking a moment to bask in my own glory. If you could call it that. Then as I turned to look back at the grim sight before me, and realized that it wasn’t much of a victory. I couldn’t help but feel for the innocent caravan ponies. Cotton especially, who I had just gotten to know. I’d definitely be questioned about this when I got to Junction Town. Great.
With one hoof I turned him over and saw the prewar stealth technology affixed to the back of his hoof. “Stealthbuck. Invisibility tech.” I observed. This one looked more advanced than any model I’d previously seen in the wasteland. The manner in which these Raiders were using to sneak up on Gawd’s caravans in her own territory without being caught was quickly becoming clear.
From the overturned wagons I could see the contents the caravan laid out before me. I picked up the pistol that Sting had dropped on the pavement and looked over it closely. The weapon also appeared to be highly modified from original standard issue Enclave Sunburst weapons. Higher powered to pack even more of a punch, with realigned optics. Holding the weapon gave me an uneasy feeling.
“If this Jagged Knife is the one behind everything, organizing the raider attacks, was well connected enough to get his hooves on top quality Enclave weapons and on stuff like this...” I began thinking to myself. “What would he need with a bunch of service rifles?” None of it seemed worth the risk. Not for simple guns. Certainly not for some trade reports. I pulled out the envelope Fair Trade had given me to deliver and stared at it thinking to myself. The more I thought about it, the less it made sense. Something about this struck me as suspicious. I stashed both the weapon and the stealthbuck in my saddlebags.
The wagon I was originally hiding behind began to jostle again, and a pony crawled out of it. The blue pegasus brought himself to his hooves and dusted himself off, looking irate at being forced into such an undignified position. “Snowflake!” I called, walking up to him. At least one other pony besides me had managed to survive through that mess.
I looked around. No sign of that orange mohawked one. It was just me and him now. I’ll say that I didn’t care for this annoying pegasus at all, but it was nice to see another face that wasn’t trying to kill me.
Taking charge, I turned towards him, “We’ve gotta get to Junction Town, if you don’t want me to leave you behind you can tag along. Just don’t slow me down.”
His eyes narrowed into a look of intense hatred. Why was I getting the feeling that he wasn’t happy to see me? He also was holding my ten-millimeter pistol in his mouth. “Hey, you found my pistol for me, thanks.” I extended a hoof, waiting for him to give it back.
He mumbled something but I couldn’t quite make it out. I cocked my head to the side and he spat out the pistol into his hoof in frustration. “For the last stars-damned time! My name is Frostforth!” he shouted. Of all the other pegasi, it had to be this one. I groaned internally.
“Look,” I said in as even a tone as I could, “Frostforth, I just saw Enclave ships flying on the horizon, so I don’t have time for your shit. We have to warn somepony!”
Pointing with my hooves, he looked back in the direction I had seen the black ships and gave me a confused look. “What the hell are you talking about?! The Enclave is gone! They’ve been gone for months!”
“I was sure that I saw them though!” I said, desperate to get him to see reason.
“There are no Enclave ships!” Frostforth aimed my gun at me. “You’re crazy! All you surface ponies are crazy!”
Trying to keep my anger in check, I realized there was no way to prove it to him. As much as I wanted to deck him at that moment, I still tried to act like I was a pony under contract. Although this pegasus was testing my resolve for all it was worth. I stuck out my hoof, “Give me my gun back, and I’ll escort you to Junction Town. But I’m warning you, you’re starting to piss me off.”
“What, so you can ‘help’ me too? I’d rather take my chances, thank you! You hate me and my kind, I can see it in your eyes especially!” He jeered. The pegasus began to ramble off to me about his problems again. “I was going to be promoted to regional manager of a weather factory! Another year and I would’ve been able to get a permit to live in a medium sized cloud villa in upper district c9! I would’ve had extra rations! Then, that precious Lightbringer of yours came and fucked it all up for me! Maybe you should take a look at some of the screwed up shit she did before you call her a hero! Just like that Radar you seem to idolize so much.”
“Oh, cry me a river! Give me back my gun already!” I didn’t give half a shit about his woe-is-me sob story. Here he was trying to act like the victim in all this?
Dealing with desperate ponies is always the hardest because they often act erratically and unpredictable. I tuned him out, as far as I was concerned he was some dumb Enclave citizen who bought into the propaganda talking out of his ass. His aim was shaky, and he probably never fired a gun before in his life. I didn’t see him as a threat, and perhaps that was my mistake. Without considering the consequences, I simply walked up and tried to take it from him.
BANG!!! A single shot rang out, and the pistol clattered to the ground.
I felt the a dull pain in my shoulder, it didn’t feel like a fatal wound but it hurt like hell. It was as if somepony had thrust a dragon fang in there and left it to fester. He dropped the gun and panicked before flying off.
“Stupid... Y-you got cocky…”
It was just one Raptor-class battleship split off from the main fleet, but even that was a force to be reckoned with. Plenty enough firepower to raze a small village to the ground Armor-clad soldiers rained from the sky gunning down the ponies living there, who were unfairly caught in the crossfire of these wars that had nothing to do with them. They offered little to no resistance.
We all hoped that they were far enough away from the action. That the Enclave would ignore such a small and inconsequential village on the coast. We hoped the natural harbor would protect us from sight, but something happened on that stormy night to draw them closer.
Hope is funny in the wasteland. Like sitting at a table in the Lucky Seven’s Club waiting on that big payout. It’s a seedy wasteland joint I know of on the edge of the San Palomino, with a reputation of all manner of sin and debauchery. As the croupier gave me another spin at the roulette wheel, I set my chips down to hit my bet. I hoped to go for a little longer. If I was smart, I'd get out. I knew their goal is to keep me playing for as long as possible. Screwing you over is practically in the croupier’s job description.
Whether the game is rigged or not isn’t an issue because I was addicted to the rush. but the mare that is Lady Luck enjoys cutting you off when you get to the end of your rope. Almost as if she does it to get a kick out of hitting ponies while they’re down. The wasteland is like that too. The longer a pony stays at the wheel, the more there is to lose. Not playing the game though, simply isn’t an option in this place. Besides, if I wasn’t going to play then I wouldn’t have set hoof into the Lucky Seven’s.
There's a kind of twisted humor in it. It’s always the House that collects at the end.
The thing about Enclave standard-issue Sunburst energy rifles is that, since they’re laser weapons focused through a gem, they don’t leave much waste behind. That goes for both the ammo cells wasted, and the ponies they incinerate. Ignites most wooden structures. Cauterizes wounds instantaneously. More often than not they don’t even leave bodies behind, so all you have to remember of the ponies shot down by these weapons is a smouldering pile of ashes.
After the soldiers finished combing the ruins of Starlight Bay, they returned to their ship and left the destruction of the coastal town behind them. Like a natural disaster leaving horrors and death in its wake, they left with as much haste and as little warning as they had arrived.
There was nothing left. Nothing but burning piles of ashes and flames.
My eyelids flickered awake and I felt a searing pain near the meat of my shoulder. With a hoof I applied pressure to the wound to keep myself from bleeding out, while doing my best to shrug it off. It was hard to move at first.
The sun was beginning to lower in the sky casting it shades of orange. If I wasn’t in so much blinding pain I might’ve taken a moment to appreciate it more. Instead, I looked back up to one of the towers and wondered if the Lightbringer was watching over me right then. It was a silly thing to do. There's no way that the Stable Dweller could actually see out of those things.
When I looked back, I saw that one pegasus with the red-orange mohawk staring at me. Where had he been during all of that? He looked like he came out of that mess completely unscathed. My eyes narrowed on him. With a bloodied hoof I pointed at the horizon line, where I had previously seen the black ships. There was only one question burning at the forefront of my mind. I felt my rage simmering just below a boil. “Did you see those Enclave ships?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, seeming at a loss for words as I stared him down on that lonely highway. The pegasus flapped his wings and took to the air, quickly speeding away in the opposite direction. I watched him as he became a tiny speck and disappeared into the distance.
Over what was left of the destroyed dispatch radio, a garbled mess of static attempted to play a song over the airwaves. It did little to suit the moment before shorting out. I imagined that Daily Day would be reporting on this attack shortly. If I stayed here, a New Canterlot patrol would eventually come along to take me to Junction Town. Being patient was never my strong suit.
I knew at that moment without a shadow of a doubt that Cotton’s words rung true. The wasteland was still very much alive, despite all the pretty words over the radio. It wasn’t going anywhere. I could feel it inside of me. Burning.
My throbbing shoulder drew my attention back to it. “Dammit, that fucking hurts!” Owing to the fact that there wasn’t an exit wound, I knew that the bullet had stuck deep inside my shoulder and hit the bone there. All I cared about was that it hurt like hell and I had to get it out. I struggled to bring myself upright onto all fours, taking care to keep the weight off my left foreleg.
I searched through the caravan wreck, and sifted around for medical supplies. Except, all I managed to find was some Dash, a bottle of homebrewed Wasteland Tequila, a Magic Bandage and a Healing Potion inside a metal box marked with three pink butterflies. No Med-X unfortunately, but I had what I needed. I folded my Special Jacket and neatly set it aside on the ground so that I wouldn’t get any extra blood on it, wincing at the thought of what I was about to do.
With one hoof I applied pressure to the side of the wound, where I could feel the bullet moving around inside me. The pain flared at the mere touch but I fought through it. Getting shot hurts like hell. “If I ever run into Snowflake again I’ll make sure to administer a painful asskicking as payback for this.” I cursed.
Using all the skill of a hellhound performing heart surgery, I bit into the burning wound and chomped down into the flesh with my teeth to feel around for the bits of metal. There was excruciating pain that followed. Burning agony shot through me as I fought with my body’s survival instinct, and I had to stop just a few moments later screaming in pain. I collapsed onto the pavement, my breath coming in ragged gasps through my now bloodstained muzzle.
I huffed down the Dash to keep my adrenaline going, and got back up to try again. With a metal rod this time from one of the wagons, I jammed it into the open wound to try and dig the bullet out. That just made it worse. I screamed again and pulled the bloody piece of metal from my body, flinging it at the ground with a metallic clang before toppling over sideways.
“Celestia Dammit. Get this thing out of me.” I wheezed. The bullet was stuck deep. I laid motionless on the pavement, breathing heavy broken breathes. It was a few more minutes before I finally felt like moving again.
Mulling it over in my head, I considered all my options.
If I were to for a patrol to come and take me to Junction Town, I'd receive the proper medical treatment but the reality of the situation was that it could take hours for them to find me here. I’d have lost any hope of ever finding that mohawked pegasus. It would also give the raiders the opportunity to hit Celestia knows how many more caravans, and I was the only one with any leads according to the dispatch radio.
On the other hoof, if I were to go after them I might miss out on my one and only chance to ever see Radar again. I’d fuck up this job by throwing away the opportunity Fair Trade had given me to join up with the New Canterlot army, which he stuck his neck out to give me. Making tough calls isn’t easy, but it was time for me to make one.
“Fuck, what am I supposed to do? Go back to Outpost?” I asked, not sure what to do in this situation.
Whether those were really Enclave ships or some kind of fucked up trauma induced hallucination, there was a very real possibility they were still out there. Those weapons on the other hoof, were definitely the real deal, and the mere thought of the Enclave still existing in Equestria made my blood boil. Simply observing the healing potion in front of me, I was burning daylight by hesitating. So I had to consider the consequences of just leaving it in there. “What would Radar do in this situation?” I asked myself. My face twisted at the thought.
“Fuck it.” I poured the Tequila over the open wound causing an intense pain to shoot through my whole left side, before greedily downing the entirety of the healing potion. The wound in my shoulder seamlessly stitched itself back together over a short period, sealing the bullet inside.
I breathed for a moment.
Using a cloth from the medical kit, I wiped my hooves and muzzle clean so that I wouldn’t stain my clothes. Then I applied the healing bandage for good measure. Shrugging back into my special jacket, I moved my foreleg around just to get a feel for it. It wasn’t exactly at one hundred percent, but aside from a weird hitch in my shoulder when I moved it into a certain position it seemed to function normally.
I walked over and picked up my brother’s pistol from where Frostforth had dropped it and hugged it tightly. Taking a minute to myself before returning it to its holster. It was the only momento I had left of him and my family.
Don’t play the hero, I could practically hear the old bastards voice yelling in my ear as I thought about my next move. Settle down for a few hours and stick it out until a patrol comes by to take me to Junction Town. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.
Fair Trade expressly told me not to pull any heroics or crazy shenanigans. I frowned thinking to myself and came to the conclusion, “Although since I’m under contract to and a soon-to-be considered pony of the New Canterlot army it would be even worse of me if in a non-official capacity I saw something dangerous like Enclave ships and didn’t report it back to anyone. Right?”
I’d consider it that I was doing him a personal favor by hunting down those raiders for him. He could thank me for it later.
Stripping the dead raider stallion of his armored gear, it seemed to be built for a pony several sizes larger than me. The shoulder pads were gigantic, and made of a tough material that could stop some small round ammunition. It was colored a rough dark green color. It’d mostly be useful in close quarters. Enough to provide me that extra bit of protection I needed. The only notable markings on it seemed to be of the pony skull symbol matched with a knife that’d mark me as a member of Jagged’s gang. Otherwise, it didn’t look too far off from normal wasteland gear. I donned it over my normal attire.
“This is no time to let myself be scared by some raiders using fancy energy weapons.” I said, looking back towards the mountains where I had seen the ships. Thinking about it further just served to piss me off. Something was stirring deep inside of me at that moment, spurring me into action. There was that tingling sensation in my hooves again, and it was stronger than ever.
I gathered up what ammunition I could scrounge together in my saddlebags, and slung the Service Rifle over my shoulder. A battle saddle would just slow me down.
Steeling myself with one more glance at the ownerless cowpony hat being picked by the wind, I realized that I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Cotton deserved better. It was the least I could do for her to get back at those raiders for destroying her caravan. But more importantly, there were questions I had for that pegasus when I finally caught up with them.
I knew for a fact what Radar would do, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting idly by waiting for backup. The Radar in my head would’ve done whatever was necessary to make sure other ponies were safe. Even if it meant I was potentially sacrificing the one chance I might ever have to see him again. I let out a soft sigh," Sorry, Radar. I know I said that I'd come find you after this job, but you're going to have to wait for me on this one."
“The Enclave ships are gone. The raiders would be long gone by now too. All I have left for a lead is that mohawked pegasus.”
I scavenged what supplies I could from the Junction City Traders, knowing they wouldn’t be needing them anymore and that I’d be repaying them shortly. Silently, I walked over to what I presumed to be Cotton’s ashes carrying the bottle of homebrewed tequila with me. It was a somber roadside funeral for a pony I had barely known.
Hopefully the Lightbringer was watching over her wherever she went off to. Holding a moment of silence, I poured what was left of the homebrewed tequila over her hat after taking a sip for myself to pay my respects. It burned as it went down my throat, and I gagged. To think that she actually drank this stuff on a regular basis.
I turned my sights on the horizon, and noticed an unbroken pair of reflective aviators closeby, which had likely belonged to one of the former traders. I picked them up and put them on, feeling that my eyes were no longer bothered as much by the sun. “I pull off the merc look nicely.” I thought, and flicked the golden frames.
With a burst of speed I took off galloping towards the sunset, feeling that lightning rush of adrenaline like I was back in the wasteland again.
“Sometimes you have to take a gamble.”
Footnote: Level up.
Perk Added:
Know Thy Enemy - Having been on the receiving end of something tragic you’ve gained extensive knowledge of your foe. You gain a +10% Bonus when fighting Enclave and Unique Dialogue Options with certain NPC’s.
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8684599
Thanks! I really hope you enjoy it! I saw your comment when you posted it not too long ago. Sorry for taking so long to respond!
8677586
Thanks Raven! You know I've been sitting on this story idea forever, so it's a kind of surreal to finally be putting it out after all this time.
Keep hammering them keys, my man!
8715826
Thanks man, I will! Much appreciated!
8751240
Thanks for this huge review post! I'm glad you liked it, that means a whole lot to me!
Another good chapters, furthering the story and already providing more crossroads for Roulette has to pick a direction from. It's an interesting theme focusing on a pony who has more than one path she keeps skipping between. Who does she wanna be? Radar. But who taught her how to survive? Fair Trade. She wishes to be wise, she wishes to be right, she wishes for revenge while wishing to be better. Seeing these things come up a few times already after only two chapters sets up a story about picking who you want to be but also what is right to do. All while also having to survive on terms that doesn't allow you the luxury of choosing.
If I have to make a nitpick... I know it's still early in the story and I'm not one to dictate someone's writing style, but I find the narration style too heavy on narration. It misses a better balance between ongoing thoughts from the main character's pov and the action. It's hard to explain, I just miss a better feel of being right there in the moment. Like the conversation with Cotton Tail would skip between the here and now talk, and the overall narration of Rou that felt like jumping around a bit much.
But I do love the use of the conversation with Cotton to get to know her, get her story, make her no longer just a background cut out standing around. Just to make the sudden loss of her that much more effective. Both for Rou and the reader. Feels like a warning and assurance that things are for real, even characters we care about are at risk of dying and not necessarily has 'main character protection' where you just KNOW no one is at risk.
But these are just my thoughts on this second chapter. Looking forward for more.
8767848
Hey, thanks for the feedback Raven. That's definitely something I've been hearing from some of my readers, and I'm trying to work on that a bit more in chapter 3. I also want to go back and clean up things between 1 and 2 just so it reads more easily. Not change the overall story, because i don't want my current readers to have to go back and reread those chapters. Only quality of reading suggestions, like paragraph flow, word choice, formatting etc. I like the way the story paces itself so far, but I feel that my technical proficiency writing-wise could still use a bit of refining if I'm being completely honest.
I'm working on chapter 3 and 4 atm. Got hit by a number of medical issues in February (which was also a short month) that made it difficult to get words down on a page, so I'm playing catch up.
I could understand it better if it was coconut 56
She forgot about Cotton's gun!
Wow. That might be one of the best backstories I've ever seen in a Fallout Equestria fic. At the very least, it's different! A far cry from the usual Stable dweller or uneventful life Wastelander.