> Fallout Equestria: Self-Insert
>  by CJN
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1: A Friend
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 1: A Friend


How did it come to this?

"Keep moving!" One of my captors yelled as I felt myself shoved forward, nearly falling to the ground.

How did I go from waking up in my room to being handcuffed by a group of ponies and dragged across a wasteland?

That's right, ponies. I've been captured by a group of fucking ponies ok?! Laugh it up!

I'm glad I was dressed be fore I ended up here, otherwise I'd be freezing. Anyway, I've been stuck with these salvers for about three hours and the only one I can talk to is Monterey Jack, my fellow captive. He's from a place called Tennpony tower where he owns a chess shop and he has two children. 

I'm getting off topic. 

I was finally able to lay down and relax, but then one the slavers, Cracker I believe, spotted something. Before I knew it, Monterey and I were forced to the ground on a mat of straw, bound and gagged before moving off to hide. As we laid there wondering what was going on, we heard someone approach us. Looking up we saw what seemed to be a gray unicorn in a blue uniform. 

As the unicorn got closer I struggled to remove my gag so I could warn it.

"Well lookee here! Walked up all nice and pleasant, didn't she?"

Too late.

I watched as Cager, Cracker and Sawed-Off came out of their hiding places, point there weapons at them. I could only watched as they conversed with each other on what to do with her.

"What's going on?" the unicorn asked, sounding confused and nervous. Judging from her voice she sounded feminine. I had just managed to remove my gag but Monterey had already beat me to it.

"They're slavers, you idiot."



Littlepip, the gray unicorn with a cutie mark that looked like wrist watch, followed beside me as we trudged alongside our captors, walking a broken path that once was a road. My legs were in chains, making walking difficult and anything more speedy than a jog impossible. Her strange watch had stymied the slavers efforts to bind her forelegs, eventually forcing them to chain her above the knees. Had the one with the shovel-spear not been holding its point dangerously against my throat, the other two would have gotten more then a few broken bones for the looks they gave her. As it was, they kept me at bay.

She wasn't gagged, but I convinced her that talking would likely result in the loss of her tongue. I didn’t expect they would answer her questions, even if her tongue should survive the asking, and they were being chatty enough with each other to suffice.

“Hate thef fart,” Cager grumbled through the spear clenched in his teeth.

“Well then, if you would just learn to swim, we could take the long way, couldn’t we?” Sawed-Off suggested in a bittersweet tone.

“Hate fuffen sweffey.” Judging by how he smelled, swimming would be doing him a favor.

“How about you stop complaining and I’ll let you sample one of the slaves before we get to the forest. Except the freak.” Cracker offered, turning back towards Monterey and Littlepip with a filthy smile. Cager looked thoughtful, but his expression turned to disgust when he looked at me

I looked away. They laughed. 

As they talked, I could hear a sound ahead. Like something stuck in mud. And... something else. A distant sound, getting closer. Music? I could see Littlepip was confused to.

Cracker took note of our expressions and smirked. “You two look like you’ve never heard that before. What, did you live your lives in a Stable? If you’re hoping for the cavalry, that ain’t it . That’s just one of those sprite-bots.”

The music cut out with a sharp twang.

Sawed-Off trotted ahead a bit, peering down the path ahead. Turning back to the rest of us, he smirked. “Think one of the radigators got it?”

Cracker suggested it flew into someone’s booby trap. Cager suggested a mouthful of spear. Sawed-Off looked forward again and the glow from his horn illuminated the machine -- a metal ball that reminded me of G0T0 from KOTOR floating on four silently flapping wings – hovering silently right in front of his face. 

“FUCK!” Sawed-Off leapt back a full pony’s length in surprise. Then swung his shotgun to bear and fired it at the sprite-bot. The sound was like a metal plate falling from the ceiling, and it echoed through the night-darkened hills. Sparks specked the metal ball as it was peppered with scattershot. It let out an electric whine and darted into the darkness.

Sawed-Off almost took off after it, but Cracker’s voice cut the distance between them, “That’s enough, Sawed-Off. Save your ammo.”

“Dammit, I hate when they pull that stealthy shit. It’s a flying fucking radio; it’s not supposed to sneak up on ponies.”

My ears were ringing from the blast of the gun, but I didn’t mind. 

“Idiot,” muttered Monterey Jack under his breath. “They heard that all the way in Ponyville...”

"Is that bad?" I whispered, peering over my shoulder at him.

“You have no Idea," he grumbled. "What kind of damned fool, announces his presence this close to raider territory.” 

I looked back, feeling fear in my chest. "Raider territory?"



A river slithered across our path, its waters slipping and oozing along its banks. The water lapped and sucked at the supports of a bridge, making the wet sounds I had been hearing. Beyond the bridge was the shattered remains of a town.

The bridge was a maze of barricades. Dark shadows of ponies moved about it. Briefly I made the mistake of taking a look; and my eyes were drawn to the spiked poles that lined the bridge, and the still rotting heads of decapitated ponies that adorned two of them. 

I tasted bile. The sight was horrific.  I looked away, Littlepip repeating my action.

“Cager, stay here,” Cracker said, finally as we came to a stop. “Sawed-Off, let’s go hear what the toll is this time.”

Monterey Jack lowered his head and looked balefully towards the bridge. I moved closer to him, Littlepip  following my example, and I was surprised when Cager didn’t see the faint glow from Littlepip's horn as she removed a screwdriver and a bobby pin from her bag.

"Wait!" I whispered as I crouched down, startling her that the glow went away but I caught the tools before they hit the ground. She looked at me with a glare and a worried expression.

"Let me. I know how to do this, and it'll lower the chance of Cager spotting your glow." I explained. She considered it for a moment before nodding.

I set to work as Littlepip faintly glowed, giving me light. Slowing moving the tools in the precise manner I learned in video games, I was rewarded with a soft click as it sprung open, releasing her PipBuck foreleg. The manacle fell to the ground with a little thump. 

“Hhu!” Cager’s ears had shot up, and now he moved around to see me. Swiftly, I hide the tools in my pocket as Littlepip cut the magic, both of us hoping that in the darkness the slaver couldn’t see the change in her chains. 

“Wuf hoo uf foo?” Cager growled dangerously. The nasty sharp edge of the shovel hovered inches from my eyes. 

BLAM!

Cager turned abruptly, the spear-shovel slashing close enough to both our faces that I jumped back yelping while she shrieked. The gunshot was from the bridge. It didn’t sound like Sawed-Off’s shotgun. But the second shot did.

It took Cager a breath to recognize that crossing the bridge had become a huge mistake. Glowering back at us, his posture threatening, he started to say... something. I suspect he was warning us to stay put, but I’ll never know. His head exploded, showering the two of us with gore.

I stood there, eyes wide, shaking with shock. Blood, warm and sticky, ran down my forehead and onto my glasses, oozed into clothes and hair. 

In the growing list of things I’d not seen before this day, the death of a pony ranked at the top. I blinked, feeling the blood on my eyelid. Cager was dead! 

I couldn't fight the urge as I released the contents of my stomach onto the bridge. 

"Give me my stuff!" Littlepip shouted, a look of determination in her eye. Pulling them out of my pocket, her horn once again glowed and she began to unlock the rest of her manacles. 

As she worked on her chains, I saw Sawed-Off hunkering down beside one of the barricades as he magically pulled his shotgun open, stuffing in more ammo. Closing the weapon, he levitated it up above the barricade and shot blindly into the violent milieu, spraying an already wounded raider pony with scattershot. The pony staggered and fell. 

Unfortunately for Sawed-Off, the raider behind him had a different kind of shotgun, one that was faster and not limited to two shots, that fired slugs which tore great holes in the unicorn slaver’s body the moment he looked up to see the results of his effort.

I turned away, feeling the urge to vomit again. I focused as Littlepip now worked on  my locks.



I was soon free and was helping to free Monterey when two raider ponies trotted off the bridge towards us, stepping over the battle-mutilated corpses of Cracker, Sawed-Off and the raiders killed int he shootout. One of those approaching was the unicorn raider wielding the devastating combat shotgun. The other, an earth pony with a sledgehammer in its teeth. The unicorn was laughing. Not the mean laugh of Cracker, but a crazed laugh that sent chills down the back of my neck. The two were taken back when me.

"Whaf if thaf? The sledgehammer pony asked.

“I don't know but it looks like we've earned ourselves a prize!" She directed that at Littlepip. "But a strange hairless alien? Well... that's a whole other trophy.”

I did hot love how she looked at me with desire and... lust? Do raider ponies have a thing for hairless aliens? The earth pony chortled behind the sledgehammer as the unicorn looked us over appraisingly, especially me, sending shivers down my spine. The two were somehow even filthier than the slavers. The unicorn bore jagged scars across her face and flanks, one of them tearing through her cutie mark, several freshly bleeding. The earth pony was hairless and painfully burned over much of her left side. Both wore barding that looked ragged and cobbled together.

“help us?” Littlepip suggested weakly.

“Oh, I’ll help myself to you, all right!” The unicorn reared up and gave her a kick, her hoof striking hard into her side. I moved to check on her. But I was pulled to the ground by an unseen force. Just under the unicorn. "Ooh, you're a big one aren't you~"

Near me, Monterey let out a wet grunt of pain as the earth pony gave him a taste of her sledgehammer. Leaving me in a terrifying state while Littlepip was in a crying heap. The unicorn also turned her attention to the still-chained Monterey. In moments it became clear they intended to beat and bludgeon him until he was another lifeless corpse. 

“Hold his leg out. I’m gonna shoot his hooves off!” The unicorn raider floated the combat shotgun a foot from Monterey’s splayed left hind leg, the only one Littlepip had freed from its manacle.

In a full adrenaline, I leapt up, closing the distance while grabbing Cager's shovel. It connected with the shotgun, sending it flying. It clattered onto the bridge beyond. A moment later, I was pointing the shovel-spear at the two raider ponies who stood facing me with gleeful expressions. Two against one, and both of them were experienced fighters. The one with the sledgehammer stepped closer, as if eager to see if hammer beat knife.

Monterey was on her in an instant, throwing his forelegs over her head, pulling the chain between them across her neck. The sledgehammer fell from her mouth as the raider pony choked.

The unicorn turned, surprised by the sudden change in odds. I moved, striking her across the face, leaving a huge gash on her left cheek. She was caught off guard, but not for long.

She picked up the fallen sledgehammer and turned to face me with it, sadistic lust in her eyes. I thrust the shovel-spear forward, I sent the spear slashing across her nose, maiming her. A second slash, this time across her neck, cutting through it like it was tissue. A fatal blow...

...one I didn't mean to do. I could only stare in shock as she choked on the blood spurting from her neck. Herneyes never left me as she struggled to block the blood flow until she collapsef, twitching until she finally went still. I had just taken a life.

I looked up. Monterey was standing, chest heaving, over the body of the earth pony raider, the life choked out of her. He was staring at me quietly. Then finally raised a forehoof, only for the chain to clank tight before he had it more than a few inches off the ground.

“Oh!” Dropping the shovel-spear, I turned to see Littlepip sit up, holding the screwdriver screwdriver. The bobby pin was gone; there was no chance of finding it in the dirt at night. But luckily, she had more.

Once we were all free, Monterey limped slowly over to the bridge. A moment later, he returned, his horn glowing a gentle beige. Sawed-Off’s shotgun followed him. He looked at the carcass of the unicorn raider before turning to me nodding.

Her blood began to seep across the ground towards my shoes. Me and Littlepip watched in stunned silence as he turned and began prodding at the bodies, tugging items from them.

“What are you doing?” Littlepip questioned.

He looked at her as if she was stupid. “Checking to see if they have anything valuable on them. With luck, food.” I nodded, watching him move to the bodies at this end of the bridge. Looting the bodies of the dead felt wrong; but I knew I would have to get my hands dirty in order to survive. And imagine how embarrassed I'd be if I starved to death out here because I'd been too shy to check a dead pony's bag for a pouch of oats or a can of old applesauce? I moved a bit further down the bridge, picking up the shovel-spear along the way.

I looked over the body of a dead raider pony, his face bloody and torn from Cracker’s ponyshoes. I searched his barding, finding a knife and a can of peaches. I saw Littlepip go through the pockets of another's barding, but she quickly flung herself to the railing, heaving her lunch into the foul river below. Not that I blamed her. A large break in the clouds brought a soft and silvery light to everything, I looked over the railing see my reflection in the water, still covered with Cager’s drying blood.

Then I saw Sawed-Off’s shotgun hovering in the air behind Littlepip's head.

“I’ll be taking what you guys  have too,” Monterey Jack informed her with a bored drawl.

"Woah," I said, turning slowly to see him standing on the bridge, bathed in moonlight, his horn glowing a soft beige light. The shotgun floated between is, pointed at her. "What are you doing?"

"Surviving."

“b-But I just saved you!” Littlepip cried.

“Yeah. And for that, I’m not going to kill you.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless, of course, you do something stupid right now.”

“But I just saved you!”

“Aren’t you top of your class,” he said snidely. 

"Enough Jack!" I walked over, hefting my shovel. "She freed us both. We should be working together."

Monterey snorted. “And split our limited provisions? Go to sleep with one eye open each night, hoping to catch her when she tried to stab me in the back. No thanks.”

I was shocked. Monterey Jack, the nice guy who owns a cheese shop and had two lovely kids was threatening a young mare. Over provisions no less!

"Look, Casey was it? You're a nice guy," he turned towards me. "That's why I'm leaving you alive as well, but stay out of my if you know what's good for you."

The two of us weren't prepared when the combat shotgun whipped into the air. We turned back to see Littlepip as the culprit. For a long moment, we stood there, two unicorn ponies and a human on a bridge, surrounded by bodies, two floating shotguns and a shovel between us, aimed at each other. Moonlight shone down on us from the break in the clouds.

Monterey Jack broke the silence, “You’re not going to use that. I saw you spare that raider. If you couldn’t kill a pony like that, you don’t have it in you to kill me.”

Littlepip narrowed her eyes. “I’m a quick study.”

He huffed, but didn’t move. “Do you even know how to use that thing?”

She smiled. “Do you know that you only have one shot left? And judging by the sprite-bot, that gun is in such poor repair I’ll survive being shot with it. Will you survive being shot with this as many times as I can move the trigger while you try to reload?”

Monterey Jack took a step back. I was shocked to know that Littlepip was keeping tack on that during the fight. “And I’ll be taking my canteens back.” 

The two of them looked at me expectantly. It was a hard to choice but I knew who to choose. "Sorry Jack." I moved beside Littlepip. "I'm with her."

Monterey's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Fine, whatever."



Ponyville. I was amazed at how Littlepip's PipBuck knew the names of places before we did. It even named the wreckage of a building that we had just slipped into. Ponyville was raider territory. I just hoped this place, this “Carousel Boutique”, was not crawling with them.

The three of us had barely parted ways when the railing of the bridge exploded next to me. Probably the same on who had turned Cager’s head to applesauce. Me and Littlepip fled into the town, keeping to what cover there was. Few of the buildings were intact enough to hide in. This was the closest.

Fortunately, we were alone. 

We sat there for a while as we caught our breath. I saw back against a wall, letting the shovel fall to the ground and tried to relax.

"Hey," I opened my eyes to see Littlepip looking at me in gratitude. "Thanks for helping out on the bridge."

"Don't mention it. You helped me out so it's only natural to return the favor."

"Well, for what's it's worth, thanks." She held out her hoof to shook, a gesture I happily returned. "By the way, what are you?"

I sat up. "It's a long story.

"Under the circumstance, I'd say we have time."

I explained to her all about my species and where I came from. She ate up every word, amazed at my world. When I was done, she, in return, told me about the Great War. She talked about how she left her Stable to find a singer named Velvet Remedy, and from the way the Littlepip described the singer, I could tell she had a crush on the latter.

We waited for nearly an hour, curled up in a shadow near the door; but the sniper didn't bother to follow us. No, she or he could just wait until we came out.

Fatigue washed over me. I had stayed up all the night before, and this night’s events were a strain on both body and spirit. My muscles were weak and achy. I needed to sleep. Sleeping here was probably a horrible idea. If we woke up at all, it could be in the hooves of slavers, raiders or possibly worse. But going back outside, finding someplace better, it just wasn’t on the table.

At least we both had a friend to keep us company.
> Chapter 2: Checking out a book
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 2: Advice


Daylight.

It felt nice to see the sun, and it was fair to say Littlepip never had. But the power of its light filtered down through the thick angry, cloud cover, turning a sickly color yet still brighter and warmer than the dull grey. The air itself looked somehow wrong in the light, off-color. But everything was illuminated. I could see dust and ash floating about the room and I could this was Littlepip's first time she full aware of the outside. 

It made me want to hide under the window.

While we were working up the nerve to step into the outdoors, I saw Littlepip preoccupied myself with opening a locked chest I hadn't seen the night before. I offered to help but she politely declined. Inside was a very beautiful dress. The fabric was light, breezy and didn't sag. I had to admit, whoever made this was very skilled.

"Thinking about wearing it?"

"Maybe. It's the prettiest thing I've seen outside of the Stable. But it's too long for me."

I looked around. "I'm sure there must be some tailor out here. Somewhere."

"You're right." Carefully folding it up, she slipped it into her saddlebags.

Mindful of the sniper pony from the night before, we hid behind the cover of an overturned table, Littlepip used her magic to open the door. A tarnished bell hanging above tinkled cheerfully. Dimmed sunlight poured in. The sounds of outside flowed into the room. The twitter of birds, the far away sloshing of the river. Fresher air pushed back the stale. 

Cautiously, I moved into the doorway and looked about. Post-apocalyptic Ponyville was a rotting skeleton of a once homey little town. Between collapsed demolished buildings, the streets were littered with rubble and refuse. And everywhere, graffiti covered the walls. The graffiti was not limited to outside; the raiders had defaced the Carousel Boutique. I turned from the doorway, my gaze following the lines of profanity that curled up the walls towards the rafters. And shrank back, swallowing bile, several dissected cats hung above like decorations. I had slept directly beneath three of them.

Littlepip place a hoof on my shoulder. "You ok?" I pointed up, and she quickly understood.

She took an involuntary step back, one hindhoof out the door. 

BEEP.

"Did you hear that?

BEEP.

"Yeah."

We turned and spied the half-buried orange disk in the ground just outside the door. A little red light was pulsing on it. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I knew what it was.

“CLOSE THE DOOR!” The voice came out of nowhere, tinny and mechanical but somehow full of urgency. I was already ahead of it though, shoving Littlepip back and slamming the door hard.

The explosion just outside tore the door off its frame, hurling it right on top of me! I crashed through a tattered vanity divider, smacking into Littlepip. “Ugh!!” 

I was more shocked than hurt as I slowly dragged myself out from under the door. My ears were ringing. But I managed to help Littlepip to her hooves, and I was surprised to see my clothes were still intact. The raiders were waiting for us.

“Hurry. There are more on the way.” I could barely make out the voice; my ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton candy.

“Who are you?” Littlepip queried, but moved to throw her canteens over her neck while magically drawing out the combat shotgun. I followed her action and picked up the shovel and if a raider pony stepped through the door, I intended to take it down.

An entirely different voice replied. “Come out, come out, whoever you are!” The head of a raider pony slid into the doorway, grinning maniacally with something in her teeth. It looked like a metal apple. She tossed her head, it flew into the room at us, but the stem stayed behind in her teeth.

Before I could react, Littlepip dropped the combat shotgun and focused her magic on the metal apple, catching it and hurling it back out the door. The grenade barely cleared the doorframe when it exploded. Dust and splinters of wood few at us, getting in my eyes and slightly tearing my shirt. A tinkling erupted at my foot. Looking down, blinking the debris from my eyes, I saw the little bell from over the door had landed, mangled.

My eyes hurt, and I rubbed them to focus. Littlepip lifted the combat shotgun again while I edged towards the door. I could barely see the foreleg of the raider pony around the edge of the door frame, completely still. As I moved closer, Littlepip levitated the table so that it formed a barricade over the lower half of the doorway. Crawling up behind it, right beside me. Quickly popping my head up, I looked to see if the raider pony was still conscious. 

The leg wasn’t attached to the rest of the pony.

"Don't look," I was going to say as I turned back but I was too late.

She stared at the body in shock unmoving. She had just taken a life, like I did on the bridge. All I could do to comfort her was by giving her a hug, which she returned. Tears slowing leaking from her eyes.



Sneaking out of Ponyville had been harrowing. 

I was really thankful for Littlepip's PipBuck. Once she turned on something called E.F.S., it was far easier to determine where the raider ponies were, and to avoid them. Now that's killer app. Despite actively looking for us, the raider ponies proved less than adept hunters. Throwing a mailbox lid down the street or breaking an empty bottle against a chimney several yards away provided very effective in getting past them. We almost made it to the last house when the sniper pony started taking shots at us again. One shot grazed Littlepip's flank causing blood to flow. Fortunately, the wound looked far worse than it was, so patching it up wasn't to hard.

We crouched in a little gully, sheltered by trees, catching our breaths. Somewhere in the distance, I heard music playing again. The rumble from my stomach was much louder, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in almost a day. I opened up the can of peaches I found earlier while Littlepip munched on an apple. She uncorked one of her canteens which we shared. I had just taken a sip when Littlepip's PipBuck detected something. Not coming from the raider town, but from up ahead, deeper into the hilly wood. Something else was coming towards us. 

I re-corked the canteen and stood up, hefting my shovel. Littlepip lifted the combat shotgun, but had difficulty due to the pain from her wound.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

Everything went quiet. Even the music was gone. I started to make out a faint buzzing. We readied our weapons and prepared for what was to come. At first, nothing happened. Then it came, an ugly little flying creature, bloated and grotesque, hovering between the trees. It spotted me too, and shot a spiny dart through the air at me. I moved aside so it only tore my sleeve

"Follow me!" Littlepip said as she dodged be hind a tree, I was right behind her.

Her PipBuck made a crackling sound like the kind you'd hear on a radio. The PipBuck detected something that was “friendly”.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back in Ponyville. You're lucky you reacted quick enough. She would have killed you two.” It was that same mechanical, tinny voice that had shouted out the warning from earlier.

I watched in surprise as the sprite-bot fly up to our hiding place.

“Who are you?” Littlepip asked.

“A friend.” I raised an eyebrow. “Okay, a passing acquaintance. But one that doesn’t mean you any harm.” After a moment, “Call me Watcher.”

I regarded the sprite-bot critically. “Watcher. Okay...” We slipped out from behind the tree and started looking for where the bloated thing had gone. Not far away, near where the flying creature had been, I spotted a glowing pile of pink ash. “You do that?”

“Bloatsprites. That’s what you get when you mix parasprites with Taint. Can’t stand ‘em, myself. Glad to help.”

Meanwhil Littlepip found her apple, and levitated it up. “Thank you. And thanks for warning us about that... thing in the ground.”

“Mine.”

I blinked. “Y-you want my apple?”

Me and he sprite-bot laughed, I couldn't help myself since it was such a simple thing to identify. “No. He doesn't want the apple." I explained. "The explosive in the ground. It’s called a mine. it blows up when you get too close.”

"Precisely." Watcher agreed.

“Oh.” She took a bite of the apple. “That’s a very stupid name for a weapon.”

We laughed again. Soon after she joined us. “I really thought you meant my apple was yours. I’d share it if you wanted, although I don’t know what you’d do with it since you can’t eat.”

“Huh?” For having no emotion in its voice, the sprite-bot did a good job at conveying confusion. 

“You don’t eat. Food. Because you are a robot, and you don’t have a mouth.”

The sprite-bot let out a chuckle, while I snickered. “Dude. The thing is hacked." I could tell she was very confused.

“Your friend's right. The sprite-bot isn’t actually me. I’m somewhere else; I just learned how to hack into these things to communicate. And look around.”

Now she was getting it. “Then that music...”

“Oh gosh no. I turn that crap off the moment I hack into one of these. You have no idea how old that music gets.” As an afterthought, the hacker-in-the-sprite-bot added, “Yet.”

"Tell me about it." I agreed.

“Oh, time’s almost up. Look, there are a few things you two are going to need if you want to survive out here. A weapon, armored barding, a bit of guidance... and most importantly, you need to make some friends.”

Armor made sense, shouldn’t be too hard, although I shuddered hard at the thought of putting on a dead pony’s barding. I doubt it'd even fit me. I could probably sneak back to the bridge and strip it off the corpses there. 

A weapon, of course. Ever since using it, Cager's shovel was pretty reliable, though I don't think I could take another life. 

"Friends?" We'll we don't each other very well.

“What do you mean by guidance?” Littlepip asked.

The bobbing sprite-bot was silent a moment. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark here and guess you like books. Am I right?”

I shrugged.

“Well, yes. I...”

“There’s a great book for people traveling through the Equestrian Wasteland. I’m pretty sure there’s a copy in the Ponyville Library. Give me just a second... Okay, I’ve sent the tag for it to your PipBuck.”

Littlepip's eyes widened. “The Ponyville Library. You mean, that place we just barely escaped from? The town full of sick, psycho ponies? Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Look, you’ve got to trust somebody.”

"I do have somebody." She said turning to me with a smile. I was surprised, we just met, yet she trusted me. I smiled back. "Besides why should we trust you?"

“Oh, I dunno. How about the me-saving-your-life part? If I was trying to kill you, why would I have done that?”

Watcher had a point. But before either of us could respond. the sprite-bot burped static and began playing music again. It flew lazily away, as if it didn’t care we were here.

"Did you mean that?" I asked her. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do. You saved my life."

"But we've only know each other for like day."

"You've got a good vibe about you." She answered. "You're the kind of person who's willing to help others, even in the face of danger. That's someone I can trust."

"No one's ever thought of me like that before. Thanks."

"No problem." She responded. "Now come on! We've got a book to find!"



The Ponyville Library was in a tree. Literally inside a tree. A massive, gnarled tree bigger than most buildings had been grown in the middle of the town, clearly the project of magic, and hollowed out to be the public library. The south side of the tree was scorched black and dead. On the right, there were still a few leaves clinging to life.

Any hope our luck at the Carousel Boutique would hold out was gone when I looked up at highest balcony and spotted the sniper – an earth pony armed with a powerful-looking rifle. The rifle was attached to the balcony railing with a gliding swivel mount, allowing the raider to aim it wherever she could see. The only way to approach her would be from behind, where the door to the balcony and the narrow top of the tree blocked her line of sight. There were probably more raider ponies inside too.

Sneaking up carefully from the only direction that wouldn’t mean instant death, Littlepip was trembling with nerves by the time we reached the door. I placed on my hand on her shoulder with a reassuring smiles, which helped calmed her down. As silent as we could, we entered the library... and walked straight into hell!

Pony corpses everywhere! Not like the bridge where ponies had fallen in battle; these ponies had been mutilated, desecrated and put on display! Some poor pony’s body hung from the ceiling, head and hooves severed and flesh sliced open and pulled back to reveal the meat and bones beneath. Heads and limbs hung from chains like sick party decorations. The rotting body of a pink pony with a violent mane was mounted, spread-eagled over a bookcase with railroad spikes. Two had been driven into her eyes. On another wall, a torso had been skinned and sliced open, the pony’s entrails pulled out to decorate the shelves like streamers.

Blood and gore were everywhere, dripping from the ceiling and painting the walls along with the graffiti that had grown even more mocking and cruel. Between the bookcases, posters were mounted in shattered frames. Someone had painted over one of them with a crude but effective depiction of a nuclear explosion. Another was covered by a painting that was simply pornographic. Ashes littered the floor, mostly likely from burned books.

The room contained three cages, two large ones, and a smaller one hanging from the ceiling which was barely big enough for a pony. Captives -- filthy, beaten and misused -- were curled up inside, tied up with stained ropes. The two in the nearest cage looked at me pitifully and my heart wrenched painfully.

I saw Littlepip had to clench her eyes shut and bite her own hoof to keep from screaming. She backed against the door, heaving, unable to breathe properly, who'd want to breathe this air at all! I could tell she was about to through up. I pulled her mane back fast enough to avoid the vomit. The stench of it mixed with the reek of the room, assaulting me further.

“please,” a whisper from one of the ponies, terrified to raise her voice, “help us.”

I tried to block Littlepip's view but she look forward with brutal determination. 

“please... help!”

These were living ponies; they were right here in front of us, and they needed help. And I was as damned as these rotten raiders if I was going to make them beg again.

I could tell Littlepip felt the same way as she passed me the shotgun before pulling out the screwdriver and bobby pin and began working on the nearest lock. With a click, the metal cage door swung open. Inside, two ponies, bound and laying in their own filth. I she had nothing to cut the ropes with, so I pulled out the knife I took earlier and gave it to her.

“Are... are you for real?” The first pony stood shakily. “I-I’m free?”

Littlepip nodded, then glanced to the other ponies. I had no idea how I’d reach the one in the hanging cage. “If you could help us with...”

The pony shook her mane. “Oh no, I can’t stay here any longer. But, here, take these supplies. I managed to squirrel them away...” The pony dug into the floor with her hoof, revealing a pile of scraps laying on a dirty rag that amounted to her entire possessions. A can of diced carrots, a box of pre-war single-serve cake, a handful of bottle caps. It was a sad site to see.

“No, you keep it. You’ll need it more...” She paused, eyeing a shotgun shell in the pile. “Actually, we’ll take this shell. Thanks!” I handed her the shotgun so she could slide it into place. 

The pony had already folded up the rag, picked it up and slinked rapidly out the door before we could say anything else. I looked over the second pony, who hadn’t said a word, and recoiled as I spotted the blood from the inside of her flanks. What had these raiders done!?!

Looking around, I took in the shape of the room, ignoring the horrors. (Above the front door was an aged fresco of a beautiful white winged unicorn. Celestia? I remembered Littlepip talking about her being a goddess. She had a book floating in front of her, her wings outstretched over a group of foals as they smiled up and listened to the story. Not only had the ponies been painted over with images of blood and knives, the fresco had been used for target practice, from bullets to flung excrement, making it shattered and stained.) The room was oddly shaped, with balconies and rooms branching (literally) off in all directions. I could hear the voices of raider ponies in the other rooms. 

“I’ll be right back,” Littlepip promised the pony with a whisper. Then, levitating the combat shotgun, she moved towards the nearest interior door. I tagged along, hefting the shovel.

She jumped back as the door swung open at me. A raider pony stepped through and stopped, staring at me blankly. H had holsters were strapped to his flanks, one with a small gun, the other holding a blade whose edge was jagged like a saw. Before he could react I swung at him with the shovel. 

The raider pony recovered quickly, dodging and swinging his head around and drawing out a revolver with his teeth (what, was he going to pull the trigger with his tongue?) just before Littlepip pumped two shotgun rounds into his face. I didn't flinch as his head turned into spaghetti sauce that splattered over his lifeless body. These were not ponies, they were sick monsters that needed to be put down! And God help me if I wasn’t going to do just that.

As I collected the knife and gun, Littlepip dropped the empty combat shotgun to the side. I passed the smaller gun to her. The revolver wasn't as powerful, but it was fully loaded -- six shots in a revolving barrel. And that was good, because there was no way the noise wasn’t going to bring every raider pony running.

The first three raider ponies galloped into the main library almost immediately, one of them crying out thrilled insults. Littlepip fired three shots at her head. The first two missed (and nearly hit me!), but the third found a home in one of her ugly red eyes and down she went. A second was about to fire at me (what do you know, they do shoot with their tongues!), that is until I shoved the knife in his neck. 

I pocketed the knife and grabbed his gun as Littlepip poked her head around, levitating the revolver in the doorway. I got up and stepped fully into the doorway, looking for the third, spotting him on the far end of the main room.

The third raider pony lowered his head, a pool cue clenched in his teeth, and charged at me. 

I blinked. “Really?” I took a single step back. The pony rushed at me full-tilt, and was nearly on me when the ends of the pool cue struck the doorway, snapping him to a stop. I fired the revolver point-blank into his head. 

“Shouldn’t you ponies be smarter than that? You live in a library!”

As the body slumped to the floor, bleeding from the gaping wound through head, I turned to Littlepip.

"You almost hit me!"

"Sorry! You should've moved back!"

I was about to retort, but I let it slide.

We walked into the room. It was a kitchen. On a table, surrounded by knives, was the body of what looked like an alligator. The raider pony I stabbed had been carving it up to cook (ponies eat meat?). A refrigerator. And oven. There were scattered books, but they were all unreadable. In one corner, mounted on the wall over several metal boxes of ammunition, was a faded yellow box with a pink butterfly symbol on it: a medical box? Though the box looked to be locked. There were knife-scrapes all over it where the raiders had attempted to get it open. It should still have a few some medicine and maybe even some gauze.



One picked medical box later, we quietly went back into the main room, the gun pocketed and the serrated knife strapped to my side. We moved to the open cage and sawed away the ropes binding the poor pony. “Go. You’re free. Get somewhere safe.” With a blink, I remembered the sniper pony, and quickly told her which direction to sneak away in. She nodded mutely and began to slink out. We moved to the next cage.

What I saw sickened me. A pony had been locked inside along with a decaying corpse. The pony was whimpering in her sleep, and had her tail wrapped around the ghastly body like a teddy bear. 

Unlike the other bodies, I couldn’t tell how this one had died, for it wasn’t ripped apart. The body had lost all its coat, it’s skin was a sickening blotch-work of red and grey, flaking away. Its eyes were open, dry and staring in wrong directions. Its teeth were horribly yellowed, matching the few strands of hair left in its mane and tail. Odd, fleshy growths hung from its sides. At first, I mistook them for mutations, but then I realized I was looking at the pony’s wings! This was the body of a pegasus pony. Stripped of feathers and hair, the wings looked strange, even repulsive.

Littlepip screamed when the corpse shifted position and sat up, it’s eyes sliding around until they both focused on me. It was some kind of zombie!

The zombie blinked at me, then tried to get up, only to fall over onto one winged side as it’s hooves were bound in ropes like the others. It... she stared at us plaintively.

My mind was reeling. While leaving her here sounded right, freeing her managed to be the most coherent, if not the most sane.

Swallowing, I moved the knife down to her ropes. “Hold still.” I looked at her eyes and was quickly forced to look away. One of them was sliding again.

Littlepip approached. “Now if we let you go, and you try to eat me or my friends brains, we’re going to have harsh words.” 



The two captives were free, including the zombie-pony, both of whom slipped away without an offer to help (although the zombie at least smiled at us, which was... deeply unpleasant), and we were trying to figure out how to get to the hanging cage when two more raider ponies appeared on a balcony above. One of them was a unicorn pony with a auto-fire. I grabbed Littlepip and dove into the shelter of a stairwell as the raider opened fire, spraying the main room with bullets.

At least I knew what type of gun the large clips were for now.

I waited until I heard him reloading, then dashed into the room, turning around to face him. As I did this Littlepip was focusing her magic on the bookshelf behind him. The glow from her horn stood out brighter and brighter as the raider lifted the reloaded assault rifle and took aim for my head.

CRASH!

The bookshelf came down on top of him, knocking him unconscious. The assault rifle fell to the floor in a rain of dead books. Something else showered down as well, thrown from the falling bookshelf. Knocking away a book that had fallen over it, I saw that it was an ancient, dusty pair of binoculars. .

I couldn’t see where the other raider pony had gotten to. Swiftly, I added the assault rifle to my arsenal, and the binoculars for good measure. Then I looked back to the balcony, considering it as a way to get to the cage pony hanging from the ceiling. If we could get up there, I thought, I could leap from it to the cage. That would get me close enough that I could see what I was doing while I picked the lock.

The second raider pony appeared back at the railing, a wicked grin on his face. With a hoof, he shoved forward an ammo box, then tilted it over. The lid sprung open and half a dozen orange disks poured out into the library below. 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 
BEEP! BEEP! 
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 
BEEP! 
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 
BEEP! BEEP! 

Oh fuck!

We dashed as fast as our little legs could, leaping over the body of pool-cue pony and under the kitchen table, Littlepip using her magic to toss it over as a shield. The carved-up alligator felt to the floor with a thump 

Behind the shield, the world became a huge flash.



When we emerged, the main room was a wreck. Fresh blood dripped down into my hair. Looking up, I saw the blast-torn remains of the pony in its twisted metal cage. I hope it was quick.

We stripped the raider bodies (what little was left of them now) of their armor. The armor was in tatters, but with Littlepips help we figured out how to adjust it to fit my body structure. The resulting outfit had a chest plate with pads for my arms and legs but there were no pockets.

My ands were darkened with blood just from working on it; every inch was covered in the flash-fried gore of dead ponies. I slipped it on; my stomach rebelled, but I didn’t have any more to throw up. 

Since we had time I took one last look around. The raider obviously assumed we were dead. Looting the bodies garnered me a little more ammo. The gun from the earlier raider had been in bad shape to begin with, and was damaged beyond repair by the explosion. They seemed to collected bottle caps, which struck me as an odd thing to do. I left those alone. The kitchen’s refrigerator had a small stockpile of food: cooked alligator meat, a few skewers of barbecued fruits and what Littlepip's PipBuck identified as bloatsprite meat, a box of pre-war cake and some water that looked like it was bottled straight out of sludge river. We took everything but the cake and water; apparently, the raider who made this was a rather decent cook. With a second thought, I looked over the ingredients on the cake box and took it too.

The raider pony was in the main room was looking over his handiwork when we returned from the kitchen. One look at us and he fled up the stairs. We raced after him, our revolvers and ready.

He went through a door on the level above. I reached the top before Littlepip did, but caution made me skid to a stop before barreling through I held out my arm to stop Littlepip. If I was on the other side, I’d be waiting just to the side of the door, ready to take the head off of the raider who rushed through. With positions reversed, I was not going to make the same mistake. 

A pony’s cry from inside, “aaah! Help!” changed the scenario. Especially since it sounded like a kid.

Standing to the side, I threw open the door. When there was no attack, we darted in. And stopped short. 

The room was lined with more destroyed books on either side, and ended in a large window that opened onto a balcony. This room was decorated as disgustingly as the last, but filled with stained sleeping mattresses. Near the open window, a pony too young to even have her... cutie mark? (I hadn't been paying attention to it, but according to Littlepip cutie mark's showed a ponies talent.) lay on a mattress stained with so much blood it was nearly black. She had been brutalized and raped repeatedly, and her flank was covered in small burns where her cutie mark would have eventually appeared.

Her ropes were on the floor nearby, looking chewed through. And between us and her, the raider pony stood with a shocking hostage: the zombie-pony! It took me a moment to realize she must have flown in from the balcony; and it would have been her who gnawed the filly’s ropes free. Now, she was against a wall, with the blade of an axe to her throat.

A small part of my brain insisted on distracting me by wondering how the zombie-pony could have flown when her wings didn’t have any feathers. As if that was a more significant mystery than how she could be alive in her decayed physical condition.

My distraction was distracted by a nearby table. An ashtray with a smoking cigar told me just how the filly had gotten those burns. Rage welled up in me until I felt it would burst through my eyeballs. Next to the ashtray, two familiar metal apples rested on top of an book with a stylized pony skull on the cover. A second book, this one showing a revolver almost identical to the one floating next to me, had slipped to the floor where it rested against one leg of the table, along with several pencils and a filly’s lunch box. A smiling, gentle white unicorn with a beautiful lavender and pink mane stared back beneath the Stable-Tec logo. It felt odd that something so innocent-looking should be in this place.

My eyes turned to the pony raider with the axe in his teeth. For a moment I just hated at him, the room quiet except for the filly’s occasional whimpers.

Littlepip's words surprised me. “By Celestia, you’re stupid. Hard to tell a pony to back off, or surrender, when your mouth is full of axe, isn’t it? Maybe if you spent some more time reading these books rather than destroying them, you’d be smart enough to come up with a plan that actually allowed you to negotiate a way out of this.” The grenades levitated off the table; she dangled them between us. “One that doesn’t end with me shoving one of these up your tailhole! Mic drop!"

"Oh burn!" I held up my for her to fist bump, which she did. Glad she remembered what I taught her.

The raider was slightly confused before he pressed the axe blade tighter against the zombie-pony’s throat, enough to cut flesh, which split and pulled back. Something that might have once been blood oozed from the wound. The zombie-pony didn’t flinch or whimper, but the filly did both.

“Right. Kill her.” The revolver floated forward next to the grenades. “That way, there won’t be anything to block my shot.”

I could see the raider considering his options and not liking what he was finding. Dropping the axe from his mouth, he whinnied pathetically “I don’t wanna die!” and dashed for the open balcony, leaping over the cringing filly.

Littlepip sent four shots right into his ass. No way he'd get up from that.

Looking to the filly and the zombie-pony, Littlepip smiled grimly before turning to me. “There’s one left. Take care of the hostages. I’ll be right back."

"You got it. And I'm proud you remembered that."

With a smirk she turned and continued up the stairs toward the upper balcony and the sniper pony. While I stayed behind to free filly.



Better equipped and a lot more confident, we made our way carefully out of Ponyville. 

Up ahead, I spotted a huge gazebo surrounding a marble statue of a rearing pony girded with combat barding, a sword in his mouth. The gazebo was relatively free of grafitti... and peeking through the binoculars, I could see why. The field of weeds around it were teaming with alligators. 

Slipping out her newly acquired sniper rifle, (which I wont deny I was jealous of) Littlepip picked off a few. Their meat, I knew now, was safe when cooked; Slipping the sniper rifle back into its harness she slid out the knife and crouched up towards her kill.

An alert flashed on her PipBuck. Checking it, we discovered that it had labeled the gazebo in front of me: The Macintosh War Memorial.

Curiosity pulled us closer. Careful of alligators, I was close enough to read the inscription beneath the statue through my binoculars.

“In honor of Big Macintosh, hero of the Battle of Shattered Hoof Ridge, and his noble sacrifice for all of Equestria.”

As I lowered the binoculars, I caught sight of something else. A concrete circle sticking up from the ground, roughly halfway between myself and the gazebo, with a ponyhole cover. Littlepip turned her PipBuck back to the first radio broadcast on the list.

“...from those damned apple trees up near the Stable, and now he’s terribly sick. Too sick to move. We’ve holed up in the cistern near the old memorial. We’re running out of food and medical supplies. Please, if anypony hears this, help us... Message repeats...”

Pulling out my revolver, wary of alligators, I crept towards the cistern opening with Littlepip by my side. I was almost there before one of the beasts charged at us, its huge maw opening to reveal rows on rows of razor-sharp teeth. I fired twice into its mouth, it didn't go down. But it did make the beast think twice. The sound, however, brought more of them down on us. Pocketing the revolver in fright, I held them off with my shovel, Littlepip used her magic to pull open the ponyhole and dived in. I jumped right after her, sliding the cover over me. 



"That was pretty epic!" I said, sliding to the floor, catching my breath.

"You're tell me." Littlepip agreed as she stretched, reaching into her saddlebag, she pulled two the barbecued fruit and bloatsprite skewer. She chose the fruit.

As we ate, I looked over the small underground chamber once more before I removed the skeleton from the lower bunk of the pair of bunk beds built into the wall, Littlepip beating me to the upper bunk. I tried not to think of the colt skeleton on the floor below me. The skeleton of his father was by the door. A sip from Littlepip's canteen took the edge off my thirst. It was almost empty; we had to be careful. 

I remembered how, when Littlepip came downstairs, the zombie-pony was already gone, and had taken the poor filly with her. I hoped it was to someplace safe. I found it strange that the most decent pony I had found in the wasteland was already sort of dead. I also noticed that the assault rifle pony was also gone; he had woken up and freed himself from the crushing bookshelf. That meant there was at least one more raider still in the wastes, but I wasn’t the sort of person to kill anyone while they slept. Not even a raider.

I figured that if we slept here tonight, that would give the alligators time to wander away from the exit. 

Until then, we would preoccupy myself with my new book. Slipping them out of my saddlebags, I looked it over, the one with the revolver on the cover. Guns and Bullets. Very straightforward. Littlepip took the other one. 

“The Wasteland Survival Guide. By Ditzy Doo...”

"Hmm?" I looked up, "did you say something?"

"Oh no. I was just reading the title."

"Aah."
> Chapter 3: Point of View
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 3: Point of View


Shit! 

A bolt of lightning fired past me, shattering an old clock at the back of the office we were cowering in. The Wasteland Survival Guide was full of all sorts of helpful tips. Scavenging guides. A whole chapter on mines. And more! And then there were the not-so-helpful ones. After reading the chapter on “Making Pre-War Earth Pony Technology Work For You”, Littlepip thought that when we came across the ruins of Ironshod Firearms we should take a peek inside and see if there was any technology we could salvage.

Guns and Bullets provided facts about all kinds of weaponry that sounded right up my alley, so I agreed.

Instead, I got myself trapped in a maze full of homicidal robots and automated turrets, fleeing until I managed to back myself into a corner here in an office high above the factory floor. Almost out of ammo. If I hadn’t found that medical box in the employee bathroom, I would have died trying to get across the second floor. I lost the shovel to those monsters.

"This is all your fault!" I cried.

"Don't blame me!" Littlepip poked her out from under the desk. "How was I supposed to know the robots were still active!"

"If you hadn't messed with the control panel we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"You wanted the sawblade!"

"You wanted the laser!"

How could things have gone so wrong?

Below us, three of those robots were rolling about, looking around. They were built to somewhat resemble ponies, with clear domed heads that housed real brains. It was hard to believe that the ponies who built them might have used other ponies’ brains in the construction. Even doing that to an animal’s brain was awful. And clearly, two-hundred years of being online had done nothing for their sanity.

“Come on out. We only want to kill you for trespassing!”

Case in point.

The fact that the voice sounded like a young filly, despite being artificial, just made them that much freakier. Fortunately, the railing on the catwalks leading up to this office were too narrow for the brain-bots to maneuver through.. 

A deeper, authoritative voice boomed across the room. “Surrender in the name of the Ministry of Technology, zebra scum!”

I cringed behind a line of metal filing cabinets as the room filled with a rush of flame!

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the other type of guard robot we'd crossed paths with in here. The multi-limbed things looked like giant metal spiders, many of its arms seemed to end in weapons, including a buzzsaw and a flamethrower. And worse, the damn things could fly!

Littlepip slipped the grenades out of her saddlebags and passed one to me. As we waited for the flames to die away the metal cabinets were starting to get unpleasantly warm against my back, and the heat in the air seared my lungs. The second the flamethrower cut off, I turned my head around the corner I pulled out the   stem and tossed the grenade at the robot, Littlepip doing the same. The moment it saw me, the robot raised a pulsing green weapon that looked like a unicorn’s horn. Green fire erupted from it, shooting past me close enough to singe my cheek. The blast struck a fan sitting on the desk behind me; it glowed green for a moment, then melted! I ducked back we tossed the grenades.

The explosion rocked the office. I heard a huge twang as part of the catwalk outside gave. Looking back, the robot was in a non-functional heap. The walkway outside was still mostly intact, but sagging badly. I wasn’t sure it could hold my weight.

Stripping what we could from the fallen spider-bot, I considered my options. We couldn’t stay up here forever. If we moved very fast, we could run across the walkway without the brain-bots below getting us. Their weaponry did not seem very accurate. But the first few yards of the catwalk had partially torn free, and sagged alarmingly. The more I looked at it, the less I wanted to put a foot on it.

"Why don't I just levitate us?"

"Have you even tried to levitate yourself before?"

"Well no. And I've seen another pony do it. It should work, in theory." She grinned sheepishly

Considering my options, I just shrugged. "Fuck it. Let's see."

Focusing, Littlepip channeled a glow from her horn we enveloped both of our bodies. It glowed brighter as she tried to lift the both of us. I was shining like a dozen lanterns when I felt my body lift, just slightly, from the ground. Littlepip was sweating. I suggested that she stop but she remained determined.

We were halfway across when the brain-bots started firing in our general direction. A lightning bolt struck the catwalk, arcing along it. I felt very lucky we weren’t actually touching it. But I could see Littlepip was almost spent. Ahead of us, the catwalk stopped right before the huge windows that let twice-filtered sunlight onto the factory floor, supplementing the light from heavy fixtures hanging above. The catwalk shot off in both directions, running parallel to the wall. One was the direction we'd come from. The other lead to a door which had been locked. Only that door didn’t have a lock to pick. Instead, it could only be opened by command from a terminal.

Another shot of lightning missed cleanly, shooting through one of the shattered windows of the observation office and frying the terminal we had just used, not five minutes ago, to unlock said door.

It was a lot of metal catwalk. And the damn bots beneath us shot lightning. Littlepip grunted with the effort that kept me aloft, she seemed close to collapsing. 

"Pip, you have to stop!

Releasing the magic, she dropped us onto the catwalk. It wavered, but held. I let go of a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and we started to run. 

“Don’t run! We want to be your friend!” 

More blasts. I tensed, expecting to feel paralyzing electricity rip up my body, starting at my feet. Instead, I heard a crash a loud pop and a twang from somewhere above. Looking up as I ran, I saw that one of the bolts had hit the hanging lamp above, causing its softly buzzing light to explode. And that was the last straw: it snapped loose from the cracked ceiling above and swung down, crashing into the catwalk behind us. The whole walkway shook. And then the section behind us tore away with a rending scream.

Oh for fucks sake!

We were almost to the door when the metal walkway dropped out from under us. I grabbed Littlepip and threw her forward, before jumping after her, and I had just missed the edge. That is until Littlepip levitated me back up. The catwalk wobbled threateningly beneath us, sticking out from the wall like a diving board, held in place by bolts that wiggled in wear-widened holes. Cautiously, we stepped lightly towards the door. 

A blast of lightning hit the catwalk, shooting up my legs and sending me into painful convulsions. We collapsed, shaking, on the walkway, my hair standing on end. The walkway responded with a metallic cry and tilted several inches, threatening to dump us into the gulf below.

I struggled shakily to my feet. Another blast shot up from almost directly beneath me, missing the walkway by less than a foot and striking the ceiling above. Bits of singed plaster rained down. I gave the door a push, and was vastly relieved when it swung open. Then the catwalk gave further. I lurched, wrapping one arm around Littlepip and the other around the door frame to keep us from sliding down the now quite steep metal platform. A third electrical blast ripped through the air, striking another strip of industrial lighting whose light also exploded, making it swing perilously. 

Grunting, I pulled the two of us into the room. Letting Littlepip go, I turned and sat in the doorway, looking down at the brain-bot rolling in circles directly below, trying to figure out how to get to us. Then, with a strong kick, I knocked the last of the catwalk loose. It fell, scraping down the wall, until it smashed through the robot’s brain-case, pulping the organ inside and continuing down, ripping the machine roughly in half. I must admit that I found the crunch immensely satisfying.

"Pip?"

"It was easier to say than Littlepip. Or I could call you Pipsqueak?"

"Don't you dare."



I realize that if the room we had successfully accessed at such great personal risk had not offered another way out, we would've been in deep trouble. 

Closing the door behind us, I felt immediately more comfortable. The room had been painted in what had once been a bright orange, and the paint had not lost all its warmth over time. The wood paneling probably brought a pleasant, homey feel to what I believed was clearly the factory managers office. Now that wood was rotted and crumbling. On the back wall above the desk was an oversized logo in deeply tarnished bronze: 


IRONSHOD FIREARMS


How do you like them apples?

I didn’t get it. 

Ignoring it, I looked around. Large, fancy desk. Chair. Filing cabinets. A poster in a backlit frame -- the same poster I had seen several other times in the factory, but this one in better condition, showing graceful pegasus ponies soaring through the sky, rainbows exploding behind them as they shot down on dark, demonic striped figures with evil, glowing eyes. A wardrobe.

My eyes barely touched these, moving to the important things first. The office held a terminal Littlepip could hack, a wall safe I could pick, and a personal elevator that, if it worked, would get us safely to the first floor and out of this deathtrap. There was an ammo box under the desk. Then my eyes fell on something unique. Mounted on the opposite wall was a glass case. And in the case was a beautiful and perfectly preserved revolver. A similar model to mine, but crafted by an expert. It had a scope, and an ivory bit molded for extra-comfortable fit in the mouth and ease of trigger. On the handle was an emblem, three apples.

I tried the safe first. It was tough, taking a few attempts, but after breaking one bobby pin I learned better how to prevent further losses. The safe opened with a generous click. The impressive amount of objects made me wonder if our excursion into Ironshod Firearms hadn’t been worthwhile after all. I started sorting the treasure from the rubbish. Inside was sack full of pre-war coins, a copy of Equestrian Army Today, a whole bunch of finance papers that ceased to mean anything hundreds of years ago, a box of what looked like bubble gum, a Spark o’ Magic battery and finally an odd hoof-strapped device that looked like it was meant to interface with Littlepip's PipBuck. Curious, I passed it to so she could analyze it.

StealthBuck. Invisibility Spell. One charge.

Sweet!

Next was the terminal. Littlepip was struggling to open it. She had to abort several times to avoid getting locked out. She pulled an apple from my bag and bit into it, intent on the screen, only to recoiling pain. Levitating the apple up to eye level, she saw a bullet embedded in it. Looking down at my saddlebags, I saw there was indeed a small hole, although it took me a few minutes to remember when that had happened.

Once in, she discovered a whole mess of old notes and messages. In addition, the terminal had a shutdown key for all the robotic security. And it could remotely open both the safe and the display case. I rolled my eyes, thanking the universe ever so much for giving us this potentially life-saving option only now that we’d already fought my way to the finish and no longer needed it. I also realized that I could have saved myself a bobby pin if we had worked on the computer first.

Littlepip told the terminal to open the display case. Doing so triggered a message.

“Cousin Braeburn, Ah know we ain’t talked in some time, but the war effort’s takin’ a twist for the scary, and Ah might not have a chance t’ see ya again. Ah want t’ mend fences. Now, Ah ain’t gonna muck this up with words. We all know how well that went last time. Instead, Ah’m sendin’ ya Lil’ Macintosh as a gift and as an apology. T’show you I’m sincere. Keep ‘im safe for me, will ya?”  

"That accent. It sounds like the voice on Velvet Remedy’s PipBuck!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Though this voice belongs to somepony different."

"I guess this is Lil Macintosh." I remarked, holding up the revolver. I could see Littlepip was eyeing it with a little envy. "You want it?"

She perked up. "Seriously?"

I shrugged, "why not? I've already got one. Besides, it'd look good with you."

She used to her magic to place it in her saddlebag, "thanks Casey."

"No problem Pipsqueak."

"Shut up."

All that was left was going through the rest of the office. The ammo box held bullets for Little Macintosh, and not a shy amount. In the wardrobe, we found an old maintenance suit that we could use to repair the holes in Littlepip's utility barding, and other garments that we left behind. 

Eventually, I turned to the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing.

Of course it didn’t work. The wasteland just couldn’t give us a break. I opened up the side panel and tried to figure out what was wrong and if I could fix it from here.

To my relief, I could. The elevator proved to be in impressive condition, particularly considering the rest of the building. But the battery for the interface was dead. As luck would have it, there had been a replacement in the safe. One swapping of batteries later, we were on our way. As the doors slid shut, Littlepip perked up, “Macintosh? I know that…”



We moved between the collapsed buildings that littered the area around Ironshod Firearms, not having any particular direction to go. Aimless. We hadn’t found any signs of civilization… civilized civilization, to be precise. Littlepip stated to had given up on finding Velvet Remedy. For now, she satisfying herself with random exploration, although that had just proven exceptionally dangerous. 

My ears perked at the sound of overwrought, triumphant music. I watched as a sprite-bot fluttered down a cross street. Running up to it, Littlepip drew herself around in front of it. “Watcher?”

It just floated by. 

"Uh, Pip?"

She dashed in front of it again. “Hello?” The music just kept playing. She waved a hoof right in front of its lack of face. It danced around me and kept going.

Well, that was helpful.

I picked a random direction and we starting moving again. I thought of Watcher’s advice. Armor, check. Weapon, double-check. Guidance? I looked back at the Ironshod building. A bit iffy, but check. Friends? Triple-check. 

My eyes spotted a Red Rider scooter amidst the ruins. Reaching out, I flipped it back onto its wheels and prodded it back and forth a few times. Three of the wheels were locked with rust; but to my surprise, one still turned. 

Looking up, I found myself at the edge of a playground. The swings and slide jutted into the oddly-colored air, blackened by ancient fire. The merry-go-round was warped and canted. The skeleton of a baby pony was still curled at one end.

Sadness and immense shame flooded me. I had been feeling sorry for myself in the midst of all this!? Another tiny skeleton lay against the burnt husk of a tree, three roller skates in the dirt near its hooves. The fourth? I doubt anyone would ever know. 

We plodded on, moving through the silent impromptu graveyard. 

At the far end, sheltered by walls that were mostly still intact, I found an old vending machine. “Sparkle~Cola” the machine still advertised through the years of grime. It featured a backlit emblem of stylized carrots. Surprisingly, the machine still looked functional. Fishing out a few pre-war coins, I fed them into the machine. I didn’t actually expect that it would still have soda after all these years. I was astonished when a bottle rolled out dutifully. I suddenly realized how awfully thirsty I was!

"Did you have machines like these back home?" Littlepip asked as we received our treats.

"Yeah. Though we had a lot more options to choose from."

"Whoa. That's pretty cool."

"The company who made them, upgraded them to being able to add flavoring to them." I took a drink form my Sparkle~Cola, it tasted like carrots.

She smiled, "that's awesome!"

The clicking of Littlepip's PipBuck warned us that we were ingesting trace amounts of radiation with each swallow, but not enough to be harmful. And besides, if it reached a point where my radiation intake began making me sick, Littlepip had a couple RadAway potions, the only supplies from the Ironshod medical box that we hadn’t needed to use just to survive the building.

We spotted a bench just around the side of the building and decided to take a load off out legs, possibly read some of the Equestrian Army Today book I had picked up. As we turned the corner, my gaze fell upon an old, torn poster affixed to the wall. The image was the face of an elderly pony of almost obtrusively pink coloration. Her mane was streaked with grey. Her eyes were huge, staring. I could swear, poster or not, that she was looking right into me. Some pony had ripped the poster right through the middle; I had no idea what her expression was supposed to be, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was doing something wrong. Bold words above and below the image, now deeply faded, announced: PINKIE PIE IS WATCHING YOU FOREVER! There were additional words, very tiny, beneath, so small and faded that I had to lean close and strain to read them.

“…a happy reminder from the Ministry of Morale.” I stepped back, tilting my head as I looked at the poster again. “What’s the Ministry of Morale?”

"You got me."

Watcher’s voice erupted from over my shoulder, making me jump. “Another well-meaning idea that was so much better on scroll.”

I gasped, willing my heart to beat regularly again, and felt a fleeting empathy with Sawed-Off. The sprite-bot was hovering right next to me. CGod, those things were silent when they weren’t playing music! “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

“Oh. Sorry.” I gave the flying orb a glare. 

I forgot about the bench and started walking, trying to enjoy the rest of my Sparkle~Cola. The sprite-bot followed.

“I see you’ve got some armor…” The mechanical voice seemed hesitant. I didn’t ask why. Watcher either didn’t care enough to explain or thought better of it. Maybe the fact that I was walking through the Equestrian Wasteland in an outfit coated inside and out with drying blood gave it pause. 

"I bet I could probably go up to any Stable pony and go “I am evil, bad, nightmare pony. Arrrr!” and, even despite my size, they would take one look and flee."

I turned to her. "What are the you? Long John Silver?"

"Maybe, if I had a phoenix and a prosthetic leg." She smirked.

“Maybe the reason you’re having trouble finding your place is that you haven’t discovered your virtue yet,” Watcher offered out of thin air. 

I stopped. “What? How did you know… oh, nevermind.” Then, “What do you mean, our virtue?”

“Well,” the flying ball began, “The greatest heroes of Equestria, ponies with lifelong bonds of unbreakable friendship and strength, were each known for exemplifying one of the great virtues of ponykind. Kindness, honesty, laughter…”

“Laughter is a virtue?” I asked dubiously.

“Roll with me on this,” the sprite-bot continued without breaking stride. “Generosity, loyalty and magic. They really didn’t know themselves, or each other, until one pony came to realize that her friends represented these virtues, and together they grew to live by them. Now, I’m not saying those are the only virtues, they are just a…” Now the bot paused as if searching for words. “…particularly important set. I’m just saying that perhaps if you learn to recognize the dominant virtue in your own heart, you will find yourself. And you won’t need anyone or anything else to tell you your place in the-" Watcher’s voice cut out with an abrupt pop and music once again poured from the bot.

“Brilliant.” I watched as the sprite-bot slowly sailed away. 

Well, if that wasn’t a load of beeswax, I didn’t know what was. Finishing our sodas, we tossed the empty bottles amidst a pile of others. Empty bottles littered the Equestrian Wasteland like weeds.  

A new thought was occurring to me. About Watcher. The Wasteland Survival Guide had to be written after the megaspells rained down. Long after, considering its sound advice on scavenging. So that book wouldn’t have been in the Ponyville Library as part of the original, pre-war library. It found its way in there later; from the lack of being burned, defaced or covered in blood, I was guessing recently. Which made me wonder: did Watcher know about those poor ponies the raiders held captive? And if so, is that why were we talked into going there? Were we manipulated into walking into that horror because Watcher hoped we would free them? I couldn’t be sure. And considering that Watcher saved us, I should give the benefit of the doubt. But I couldn’t help the niggling sense that Watcher had played us, and I don’t like being tricked.

My ears perked as the music stopped again, replaced by a voice. But this wasn’t Watcher’s voice. This was somepony else. This voice wasn’t metallic. It was the voice of a smooth male pony with a greasy charisma. 

“Friends, ponies, rejoice! Although the world about you is bleak, scarred and poisoned by the war of honor less, thoughtless, inferior ponies of the past, we do not have to live in the shadow of their greed and wickedness. Together, we can raise Equestria back to its former beauty! Together, we can build a new kingdom where all live together in perfect unity! It’s already happening, my good ponies. Already, the foundation for a new and wonderful age is being built. Yes, it’s hard work, but don’t we owe it to ourselves, and to future generations of ponies, to be better? No, to be the best we can possibly be? I’m telling you now, as your friend, as your leader, that we can. We must. And we WILL!”\

"What the heck was that?" Littlepip asked, earning a shrug from me.

The music had resumed -- not popping back in the middle of a song like when Watcher seized control of a sprite-bot, but at the beginning of a new song, like this was how the bot was supposed to work.

"Wait, ponies have a leader now?"

"Looks like it?" I replied.

"That is serious. As far as we can see, we don’t even have a country. Hell, I’d settle for a town! Even just a few shacks built within vague proximity of each other, so long as they had ponies living there in peace. Or as close to peace as the wasteland allowed."

"What are you getting at Pip?"

"If there is a leader, there has to be at least one town, right?"

Trotting faster now, she found a ruin with enough intact stairs for us to get up to what was left of a second floor. I brought out the binoculars and looked about. Sure enough, in the distance, I saw smoke. Enough plumes, close enough together, to suggest some sort of settlement. I prayed to God that the smoke was from cooking fires, not raiders burning it to the ground.

There was a path leading out towards the settlement. That would keep us from losing my way. And there was movement on that path. I passed the binoculars to Littlepip. Her horn glowed as she focused them.

"There's a small group of ponies. Two of them are pulling a heavily laden wagon. A young pony is riding on its back, apparently talking with two others who are some weird two-headed beasts. Their heading towards us, away from the theoretical town. But they don’t look like they're fleeing, and none of them were wounded, all of which seem to be in good condition.

I looked up into the thick, broiling clouds, up to where the disk of the sun made a brighter spot in the cloudy ceiling, and sent a prayer of thanks to Celestia.



The path wasn’t a road, exactly. Rather, it was a long, arcing swath cutting through the Equestrian Wasteland. Two parallel metal lines reinforced with badly-aged cross-planks of wood. Half-an-hour back, it had crossed over a gully on a rickety bridge. After our fun with catwalks, we chose to brave the gully rather than put our feet on something else that was surely holding off its inevitable collapse until it could take us with it.

It turned out to be a good decision, despite the wounds. The gully had been home to a bunch of large, bloated pig-things with extremely nasty front teeth. One of them got ahold of Pip's left hindleg, biting clean through her armor and cutting a deep gash. 

Little Macintosh was neither quiet nor subtle. A single shot from that sweet little gun tore the head clean off the pig-thing attacking her! She was able to slay the three others before my I could even pull out my gun.

Beneath the bridge was somebody’s camp. It had a long-abandoned feel to it, but there were scattered supplies, including a few cases of shotgun ammo, a single can of food amidst a litter of tin cans, and a locked medical box. I picked the lock easily, finding a healing potion which I passed to Littlepip. There were magical bandages, nowhere as powerful as a potion but good for flesh wounds, and a box of… mints?

Now I figured we were over halfway to the settlement, maybe two-thirds. I tried to keep myself from imagining what we would find. I didn’t want to set myself up for a letdown. “Even a few shacks” I told myself. We picked up the pace.

I heard a gunshot shot in the same instant that I felt a bullet tear clean through Pip's right hind leg and another clang off the metal casing of the sniper rifle strapped to my back. Pip screamed in agony, collapsing to a skidding halt on the rocky ground, clutching at her leg. She was bleeding profusely through the hole torn through it. The bullet missed the bone, and I could tell that sickeningly because I could see it! She tossed her head back and screamed again. 

I dragged over around a large mound of rocks, trying to take shelter from a shooter I couldn't see. I pulled the magic-laced medical bandages from her pack. I tried wrapping the bleeding leg, but the bandages were meant for cuts and gashes, not gaping holes. It was soaked with blood and sliding off almost before I had finished wrapping it. I tossed the bandage and tried again, this time pulling the bandage much tighter. It too soaked bright red, but at least it stayed.

Shaking with fear and pain, knowing from the sudden chills that my body was going into shock, I looked up and tried to spy the pony who attacked us. I looked all around, but no one was there! And there wasn’t a whole lot of cover to be hiding in; these hills of dirt and rock were mostly barren.

But then I looked upward, and there in the sky was a rust-coated pegasus pony with an orange mane under a black desperado hat, and what looked like two rifles, one strapped beneath each wing. The pony had just finished circling back around and was aiming right at me!

With panicked instinct, I lifted a large rock in front of my face as a shield. A crack rang in the air, two rifles fired simultaneously! The first bullet struck the rock, sending chips of stone flying, and ricocheted, lodging in my canteen. The last of our water burbled out at my feet. The second punched through my armor and embedded itself in my left shoulder, sending me reeling. I collapsed, the pain peaking and then beginning to bleed off, which I knew wasn’t a good sign.

So, this is what it was like to die? So overrated.

My eyes felt heavy. I closed them, I don’t think for long. But when I opened them again, I spotted the ponies drawing their wagon, coming over the hill. Behind them would me more ponies, guiding pack... two-headed cattle-things. I remembered the young pony in the back of the wagon. 

I doubted any of them would be looking up.

I heard grunting and I turned to see Littlepip stand up, dragging herself into the open.

With difficulty I sat up. "Pip stop!

"If I'm was going to die, I'm not going to be lying down, watching these ponies or you get slaughtered!" 

I stood up, the pain in the shoulder was unbearable, but I kept going, marching myself on lame legs until I was standing beside her in the path right in front of the approaching group. Turning, Pip lifted Little Macintosh into the air and pointed it at the rust-colored pegasus who had whipped back around and was again flying right at us. 

We stood directly between him and the travelers. I wasn’t sure, even with S.A.T.S., that Littlepip could hit him. And I stood no chance against his aim. He was an amazing shot; technically, he hadn’t missed us yet.

Putting every ounce of me into it, Pip growled as menacingly as I could. And hoped that a pony who had survived a shot to the leg would be mistaken for a pony to be reckoned with. “Shoot at us all you want, but if you attack that family. I. Will. End you!

To my surprise, the Pegasus's eyes widened, and instead of firing, he back flapped his wings, coming to a halt in front of me. “Whoa nelly!”

Levitating Little Macintosh was getting difficult for Littlepip. I could she her legs were giving out

“Ah ain’t the one attackin’ that caravan! You two are!”

"What?!" I cried out, starling him and Pip. "The hell do me 'we're attacking them?' We were just walking and you shot at us fucktard!"

“Well of course ah shot you! Ah see raiders headin’ at a caravan, ah’m gonna perforate them till they ain’t movin’ no more!” The rust-colored pony glared at me. Then, with a strangely proud look, “It’s muh policy.”

I saw Pip's forelegs beginning to give. I tried to grab her to keep her from falling but she waved me off. Little Macintosh had begun to sink towards the ground, but now it swung back up, pointed right between my attacker’s eyes. “We're not raidesr!”

The pony pointed at me argumentatively. “Y’sure look like raiders!”

Seemingly from out of nowhere, the colt from the wagon galloped into view. Pip tried to speak, but nothing came out. Before I knew it, I collapsed, sinking into what felt like a deep sleep. I dropped down to check on her, tears leaking from my eyes.

"Damn it Pip, hang on!" 

The colt whinnied, but I couldn't here it. All I could was my own ragged breath as I stared down at my friend.
> Chapter 4: Partner?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 4: Partner?


Two days, she's slept.

I don't know how long I sat by Pip. My shoulder had been bandaged up but I hardly cared. Pip had been unconscious for a whole day. I kept praying to Celestia for her to wake up. We were surrounded by several ponies, including the fucking pegasus that shot Pip, they made sure to stay clear of me. I could the eyes digging into the back of my head, no doubt scared of my appearance.

"Pip!" I exclaimed as she woke up. Springing up from the chair, I wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Ow! Easy!" She cried, struggling in my grip.

“Oh! Look who’s awake!” The voice of a mare near me spoke up. Letting go of Pip and turning around, I saw we were surrounded by several ponies, only one of which I recognized -- and that the goddamn pegasus who shot at us in the first place! 

The voice came from the white-coated earth pony with a cotton-candy pink mane and a pink and yellow-stripped nurse’s dress. I heard Pip sit up and I moved to support her as she looked dazed.

“Take it easy there, partner,” the pegasus whose name was Calamity said, stepping towards me. I put myself in between him and Pip. Yeah like I'd let him near about he unloaded hundreds of bullets on us. 

"Back off partner." I added with a lot of venom.

He arched an eyebrow at the last part before backing up a couple of inches.

“Candi?” another pony, a grey-coated earth pony with black mane and tail, asked as he looked to Pip's nurse.

“Oh, she’ll be perfectly fine. Ah mixed up the last healing potion she needed and gave it t’ her less than an hour ago.”

“Mixed?” The grey earth pony raised an eyebrow dubiously.

Candi smiled. “Why with apple schnapps, of course! Ah find the medicine always goes down better that way.” I couldn’t understand why the grey pony face-hoofed. 

The grey stallion started shooing all our guests away. That made me feel slightly relieved, I didn't like how they all stared at me. 

“Come on out when you’re feeling up to it. I know there’s some ponies who would like to see you two.” The grey stallion smiled at us. Then looked at the rust-colored straggler. “You two, Calamity. Out you go.” Calamity took one look back at us before scooting out. 

Candi pranced up to me, whispering dreamily, “Such a handsome stallion, isn’t he?”

“Who?”

“Why Calamity, of course!” She giggled.

I was at a loss for words. But Pip wasn't. “He shot us.”

She waved that off with a hoofwiggle. “Ah’m sure t’was just a misunderstandin’.”

I stood up straight.  "There. Was. No. Misunderstanding."

Candi backed up, slightly terrified at the ton of my voice. I wasn't going to have thing conversation. Calamity fucking shot us! I don't give a fuck how handsome or how kind he is. I'd rather put a bullet in between his eyes.

Pip reiterated, “He shot us…” Then added,“…a lot.”



More rested, Pip was eager to meet the ponies of New Appleloosa. 

I gazed over the railing at the walled village. Multiple lines of  railroad tracks converged into a town made up largely of dozens upon dozens of virtually identical homes built from old passenger cars, many of them stacked two or three high. Most still had their wheels. Heavy metal boxcars formed a ring around the town, with a massive gate on either side. Armed pony guards walked around the tops of the boxcars, keeping their eyes on the wastes outside. Inside, scores of earth and unicorn ponies trotted about their daily lives. 

“How did you get them stacked like that?” I asked, looking up at the stacked train cars, the tallest group being four high. Railing and catwalks spanned out from it, connecting to other towers. On the highest roof, brilliantly glowing letters spelled out Turnpike Tavern.

Railright, the grey and black stallion who was the sheriff/mayor/general of the town, deadpanned, “Had one o’ the unicorn ponies do it.”

Pip turned with a gasp, staring at him. I arched an eyebrow. One unicorn couldn't have levitated any object that big or heavy.

Railright held that serious expression just a moment longer before chortling. “Ah’m just playin’ with ya.” Pip's astonishment faded to a sheepish grin causing me to chuckle as Railright smiled and pointed towards the sky behind us. “That’s what the crane is for.” Looking back and up, I could see the huge orange tower of metal jutting above the town, a massive hook dangling from it’s long arm.

Cranes made me nervous. Just thinking about climbing one made my stomach churn. I could only imagine how the operators felt.

“Although,” Railright continued, “If yer lookin’ for a heavy lifter, ya can’t do better than Crane. Ya should talk t’ him.”

“Talk to the crane?” Pip said slowly. She was probably trying to figure out if he was joking.

Judging from the names of Ponies I've encountered, I wouldn't be surprised if Crane was the name of a pony.

I was right.

Crane, he told us, was the name of a unicorn who worked in the train yard. “Won’t find a stronger telekinetic this side o’ the Canterlot Ruins.” With that, Railright offered to give us the grand tour.

New Appleloosa’s general supplies store was called Absolutely Everything. It was the fourth stop on the tour. Railright smiled knowingly as he coaxed us towards the odd-looking building. Three train cars, each a different type, had been fused together to create the store; one of them was a barrel-shaped car of black metal dominated by a smokestack. This was one of the sources of smoke I had seen from a distance. Pausing in front of the door, I read the signs beneath the playful block letters of the store name: 


Yes, I do deliveries!


No hooves, nasty stingers? No service.


Ask me about special orders! I won’t answer, but I’ll get right on it!


Wasteland Survival Guide! Available now! First copy for every family is free!

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. And stopped with a gasp as I saw the zombie-pony from the raider library. I could tell she was the same one by the way one of her eyes rolled up. She recognized us with an immediate, bright smile and dashed over to give us a uncomfortably squishy hug. 

She backtrotted and waved a forepaw about in what was a surprisingly effective combination of welcome and showing off of the store. I hate to admit it, but I nearly gagged when she hugged me.

“uh… Hello again,” Pip said, feeling a little awkward. Last time this pegasus zombie-pony saw us, we were going to put a bullet in between a raider's eyes.

“Howdy” said a familiar voice from off to my left. I’d been so focused on the zombie-pony that I’d missed that there were other people in the store. Turning, I found Calamity looking back at us with a bashful smile. “Look, ‘fore ya scamper, ah just want t’ say how sorry ah am!”

I didn’t scamper, although Pip did take a cautious step back. 

“Ah’ve been gettin’ the story from Ditzy Doo here, see…”

Ditzy Doo? 

“You wrote the Wasteland Survival Guide?” Pip asked. Both Ditzy Doo’s eyes managed to focus on her and she absolutely beamed with joy, nodding fervently.

Yes, I do deliveries. Suddenly, I had a very good idea how that book ended up in the Ponyville Library. Which, in turn, fortified my suspicions about Watcher. 

While I was thinking, Ditzy Doo had rushed up, another copy of the book in her mouth, and was stuffing it into my saddlebags. The zombie pony was amazingly kind and generous and had a severe problem with personal space.

“You… don’t talk much, do you?” Could zombie-ponies talk?

Ditzy Doo stepped back and opened her muzzle wide, giving me more a look at the inside of her mouth than I wish I could unsee. Calamity focused my attention, “Ditzy Doo’s tongue was cut out by slavers a few decades ago. She gets by without it real well though.” So then Monterey Jack’s warning had been cringingly accurate.

Ditzy Doo trotted to the sales counter, where she picked up a pencil in her teeth and scribbled something on the first sheet of large pad of note paper. She dropped the pencil and held up the notepad, her eye going weird again.

Looking strictly at the paper so my gaze didn’t rudely follow her eye, I read aloud, “Because I couldn’t talk, I took up writing. If it hadn’t been for that, I would never have gotten so good at it.” I looked up at her with a blink. 

Ditzy Doo put down the pad, picking up the pencil again, and added a line before lifting it again for me to read.

“Now, how about we get you some better armor?”



Ponies use bottle caps for money? 

As absurd as it was, I should have seen that coming. No wonder raiders were hoarding the things. No wonder there were empty bottles littered everywhere, but not a bottle cap to be found. 

Ditzy Doo didn’t have any armor in Pip's size, but swore she could modify her barding so it was better than the best armor any raider could scrounge together. After taking my measurements, she said it would take a while to create anything to fit me. She offered to do it for free, but we insisted on paying for her work. And that’s when I discovered the barter system used throughout the Equestrian Wasteland.

“Bottle caps. Seriously?”

Fortunately, pre-war money was still worth something, if only in bulk. If for no other reason than that they could get sodas out of the few machines that hadn’t simply been pried open and raided already.

Ditzy Doo took all but a few of my coins; I had no idea if what I had given her was a fair price, but I suspect I was getting a generous discount. She also insisted on giving us a sheet of paper detailing an entirely different use for bottle caps; a way to turn them into homemade mines. Apparently, it was going to be an insert for the Wasteland Survival Guide’s chapter on mines that somepony discouraged her from including.

When we left Absolutely Everything, Railright commented, “Ditzy Doo’s our resident pegasus. As well as our resident ghoul.” 

Right, because ghoul-pony sounds so much better than zombie-pony. 

“Although,” he had continued, poking a hoof towards Calamity, “Ah keep telling this one he’s always welcome t’ settle down here in my town. He’s been keepin’ the caravans safe for goin’ on four years now.”

Now, as we were on our way to meet Crane, with Calamity trotting along beside me, Pip finally struck up a conversation with the rust-colored stallion. “So, you don’t live here?”

“Nope. Got my own place ‘bout a half-hour’s flight distant.”

I thought over what I knew of pegasus ponies. “A place up in the clouds?” 

I could swear Calamity’s eyes widened just bit. “Oh no. Just a shack. Something somepony threw together a few generations ago, only t’ get eaten by the wild animals in these here parts.”

We'd already encountered some of the wild animals in these parts.

As we walked down the catwalk, my gaze fell to the strange weapon that Calamity wore, my eyes following from the gun barrels to the odd metal protrusion that stuck out in front of him; a control mechanism. I opened my mouth to ask him about it, only to find myself looking at air. I stopped and looked back; he had halted abruptly to let by a mare in a straw sunhat and her colt. The mare was apparently having trouble keeping the colt from dashing off at top speed. She looked like she wanted a leash.

“But ma! I wanna go see Derpy!”

Calamity leaned close and whispered, “That’s what some folks call Ditzy Doo. Cuz of the eye.” Yeah, because that’s what they’d focus on; the bullies back home would totally have ignored the whole putrefying flesh thing for that. “She doesn’t seem t’mind. Ah actually think she finds it endearing.”

I did not point out that Ditzy Doo didn’t seem to mind having her tongue cut out either. Didn’t make it right.

“Trolley, you get back here,” the mother called out as the colt started to trot a little too fast. “And you stay away from that store. I don’t want you bothering that thing.”

Thing? Okay, I’ll admit I’d thought of her as an “it” a few times, but that was back when I thought she was dead. I stopped.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m new here. Is there something wrong about zo… ghoul ponies?”

The mare looked abashed, staring more at Calamity than me. I didn’t need to look; I could feel his scowl.

“Well… nothin’ against good ol’ Derpy. Ah mean, miss Ditzy Doo. But… well, y’know…”

“Know what?” I persisted, trying not to hint at the shame I was feeling for having balked at her smell or the grossly squishy way her hug felt.

“Well…” The mare looked about furtively, then lowered her head, whispering, “Y’know they’re all like tickin’ time bombs, right? Ah mean, you can see what bein’ a ghoul is doin’ t’ their outsides. Imagine what it’s doing t’ their brains. They all go mad sooner or later. Dear Ditzy, she’s lasted a good long time an’ she’s only a li’l crazy for it. But someday… Ah just don’t want my boy t’ hurry that along none. Or be there when she does finally turn on us all.”

With that, the mare drew herself up, pulled Trolley close, and hurried off. Away, notably, from Absolutely Everything.

I stood there a long time, stunned. Finally, I asked Calamity, “Is that true?”

Calamity sighed deeply, which was not a good sign. “Ayep… for most of ‘em anyway. Ya get inta the wrong places, y’ll find yerself hunted by whole packs of cannibal ghoul-ponies gone zombie. But, an’ I mean this, that’s only most of ‘em, and even they’re good pony folk, if a little smelly and strange-lookin’, until that day. Some, like Ditzy Doo, break the odds an’ never lose their noodle.”

I understood the spirit of his words, but the news didn’t make me scared of the hairless pegasus writer. It made me ache for her. 



Crane was a yellow unicorn pony with an orange-and-beige striped mane and tail. He wore a bright orange construction hat with a hole in it for his horn. When we found him, he was loading barrels onto the flatbed of a train car; this one actually still on the tracks that ran through town and connected to several others. 

“Howdy! Pleased t’ meet the little mare with the PipBuck and strange creature who saved Sweet Apple and Ditzy Doo! Not t’ mention Desert Rose, Barrel Cactus an’ Turquoise!” He stopped to shake my hand vigorously. 

“Please to meet you too,” I smiled, feeling a touch wobbly after the hoofshake. “Railright told us you’re the pony to talk to if we wanted to see some heavy lifting.”

Crane smiled, then causally lifted three barrels at once, putting them in their places on the flatbed. “Reckon Ah am.” He turned to Pip and asked, “What kinda spells ya got?”

“Spells?” P replied hesitantly.

“Ya know,” he continued talking while three more barrels levitated by, glowing with the same light as shown from his horn. “Unicorn ponies generally have a small collection of magical spells, usually related t’ what he or she is destined t’ be best at. Me fer instance, Ah can make all manner of repairs t’ the rails an’ trains just by focusin’ at ‘em.”

I noticed Pip kicking a hoof at the ground and sighed deeply. “Nope. Just telekinesis. No spells.” That didn't sound to bad. Levitation was still pretty cool. I place a hand on her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. Which seemed to cheer her up, even if was just a little.

Crane’s eyes widened in surprise. And he quickly changed the subject. “Now Ah’ve got lots o’ work t’ do, but ah tell y’ what. If y’all would do me a small favor, Ah’ll return it by teachin’ ya everything Ah know ‘bout heavy liftin’.”

Sounded great to me. “What’s the favor?”

“We been havin’ a small bit o’ trouble with the things that’ve been crawling up outta that ol’ Stable west o’ here. From what Ah hear, y’all are might brave an’ no slouch w’ slingin’ a firearm. Jus’ get down t’ the Stable an’ close the door. I reckon we can clear out the varmints up here if somepony locks off their breedin’ grounds.”

I was hoping for a soda run.



“So why are you with ua again?” The sky had darkened prematurely. It was getting more and more difficult to see.

“Ah figured Ah owe ya one,” Calamity said earnestly as he followed beside me. “Maybe a whole mess o’ ones, considerin’ all y’ did for the good ponies of New Appleloosa.” 

With a sigh, Pip tried to console him. “You couldn’t have known. We were wearing blood-caked raider armor.” 

"She's right." I didn't want to say it, but I couldn't hold a grudge. "How could you have known."

“ Armor ya only had cuz ya needed protection while saving the lives of five good townsponies!”

“Only four, really. Ditzy Doo saved Sweet Apple.” Pip commented.

“An’ you saved Ditzy Doo so she could save Sweet Apple. In muh book, that makes five.” He took a deep breath. “Besides, ah can’t consent t’ ya goin’ down there alone. Ah’ve heard dark stories about those Stables. Bad, bad things happened down in too many of ‘em.”

“I came from a Stable. Hell, everypony came from somepony who came from a Stable, right? I can see why an empty one would be an inviting nesting ground, but it’s not like the Stables are cursed or sinister.” Pip said.

"I was never born in a Stable. So I'm not sure what to expect." I chipped in. "Besides, Pip's right. Everything has a rational explanation."

Calamity mulled that over. “Ah suppose yer right ‘bout that. All ‘cept the few like Ditzy Doo who somehow survived the apocalypse on the surface, or are descended from folk who did.”

Pip halted my trot so abruptly I nearly crushed her. My packs weight dragged me down as I stubled, landing with a thud. "Ow."

“Ditzy Doo survived the war? She’s that old?” She asked as she helped me up.

“Ayep. Ghoul-ponies don’t age like normal pony-folk do.”

The idea of a pony who had actually been around way back then, who knew what actually happened, surprised me. “What’s her story?”

Calamity snorted a laugh. “So long ah couldn’t even guess at most of it. Ah do know she was flyin’ outside Cloudsdayle when that first megaspell hit it. She was caught at the very edge of the magical energies that wiped the entire city out of existence. Been a ghoul ever since.”

Pip nodded, continuing on in solemn silence, the image of entire city in the clouds filled with pegasus ponies playing out in my head. There one minute, and then just nothing.

The Death Star would have some competition.

The clouds above started to leak. 

It was like being in a shower. Only the shower was everywhere! And it didn’t stop. If I hadn’t been cleaned by Candi the day before, I would have welcomed it, despite the cold of the water. Now, soaked to the bone, I just found it miserable.

The sky had turned so dark Pip had to turn on her PipBuck’s lamp spell to light our way. Ferocious wind had picked up out of nowhere and was whipping the rain at us like a weapon. “What’s going on?!?” Pip cried out to Calamity above the storm.

“It’s a thunderstorm. An’ a mighty big one. We best be findin’ some shelter, cuz it’s just gettin’ started!”

“Thunderstorm?” Pip hollered back as a patch of clouds lit up briefly but brilliantly. “What’s thunder?” 

KA-BOOOOOOOM!!!

"That's thunder!" I commented.

Pip freaked the hell out and actually tried hiding between my legs.

“Get ahold o’ yerself there! “ Calamity barked.

Timidly and a little bashfully, Pip crawled out and stood up on her hooves. Another flash illuminated the whole countryside in stark white and shadow, gone before I realized it had happened. Another mighty boom tore at the sky following close behind the flash. Calamity had to put his forehooves on Pip to stop her from climbing up my leg.
“If y’all are that scared o’ the thunder, wait ‘till ya actually see the lightnin’!” He chuckled. “Now let’s get ta movin’ so’s we can find some shelter.”

Each flash of light in the clouds was followed by a terrifying crack or a mighty boom. A little later, Pip did indeed see the lightning. I remembered lightning from back home. A white tear through the sky, like the had slashed the sky open. It lasted an eye blink, but I could see the imzge had glued itself to Pip for several minutes. 

She stopped at one point, as if she saw something, but I couldn't see anything.

We ran, the ground beneath us increasingly muddy and treacherous, until we were forced to stop by a raging, frothy river. The muddy, rushing water was tearing away at the banks on each side. I could see the black shapes of uprooted dead trees as they were carried away. 

Just beyond the other side rose a cliff-face. Water was pouring down the cracks of the cliff in a hundred rivulets, each feeding into the river at the bottom. Across from us, just a little way up the cliff, was the dark mouth of a cave, the path up to it already washed away.

I stood there, trying to figure out how we were going to get across. Then I felt myself being lifted into the air as Calamity flew us over the river and set us down in the mouth of the caves

We stepped further in, Pip shining the lamp of her PipBuck into the cave. The path continued up about a yard, then took a steep decline with frightfully old metal stairs, rusted nearly black, leading to a concrete landing. Once at the landing, the rough walls were replaced by stonework. At the end, a very familiar-looking steel door hung open on its hinge-arm. The number 24 was emblazoned on the center of the door. Beyond lay a rusted, ruined place that reminded me of the inside of a factory.

Calamity rushed past us. “Don’t just stand there gawkin’. Help me get this door shut before that darned river spills its banks completely and floods this hole!” He was trying to push the door physically. I looked down, noticing for the first time that the floor of the cave was already a puddle, two inches deep and growing.

Moved to action, I started to push against as well, while Pip rain ahead. I paused long enough to check the bolting mechanism (which was actually entirely missing), and making sure I’d be able to open it again. The thing was really heavy, barely moving an inch. The water continued to pour in was beginning to reach my ankles. I pushed harder to no avail, but then I heard a wheeze, and the door to Stable 24 slammed shut, groaning in protest.



“You realize you just locked us inside the Evil Scary Stable of Spookiness, right?” I teased our self-invited companions as he stared about the place in wonder, stifling a giggle from Pip.

“ah-Ah’m trustin’ yer right ‘bout what ya said earlier. Reckon if anypony knows better, t’would be you.” He shot Pip a nervous smile. “Besides,” he added, flapping his wings, “not like these are gonna do me any good down here, one way or t’other.”

My eyes caught the harness Calamity wore. The pegasus had twin long-range rifles, one strapped to each side of his body right under his wings, built into a saddle mechanism. Thin metal “reins” reached out in front of him, ending in a bit that hovered a few inches below his mouth. By biting on it, the sibling barrels would fire at once. The saddle was designed to reload on command; possibly triggered by pulling on the bit, or biting differently. I couldn’t tell.

“Hey, Calamity, I’ve been meanin’ t’ ask you, what is that?” I pointed at the contraption.

“What?” He turned looking around, spinning in place. We couldn’t suppress a laugh. He stopped, looking at me, then back behind him again once more before, “What, you mean my battle saddle?”

I nodded. 

“Fine piece of work, ain’t it? I designed it myself!” He reared up, showing it off proudly. Then, at my expression, asked, “Ya mean t’ tell me ya ain’t never seen a battle saddle before?”

I shook my head.

“Well, ain’t that a thing!” He strutted about. “There’s basically two types o’ firearms, loosely speakin’. There’s the small ones that a pony can stick in ‘is mouth or levitate ‘round if he’s a unicorn. Then there’s the battle saddles, for all the firearms that are just too big an’ heavy an’ have too much kick t’ be wielded without support. Ah’ve seen all kinds of weapons built into battle saddles. Machine guns, rocket launchers…”

“Rocket launchers!” I saw Pip's tail droop and ears fall back.

“Ayep! Even magical energy weapons.” He paused. “…though those are damned scarce, so yer not likely t’ ever see one of ‘em yerself.”

I filed that away for future reference. Pip checked her PipBuck for radiation or similar dangers, and E.F.S. for any glows of hostility, I took a long gulp from my canteen as she began to plot our course. She led us through what was the cafeteria, living quarters, school and clinic. To the left, a corridor leading deeper into Maintenance, where Pip decided we should head first.

Calamity, meanwhile, had scouted all the immediately adjacent rooms. He came back with a mildly surprised look. “They gots a box o’ dynamite in the storage room over yonder.”

Okay, that was a bit surprising. “What was in it.”

“Dynamite, ah reckon,” Calamity said mock-scholarly. “In truth, Ah don’t know for sure. It was locked. And Ah wasn’t ‘bout t’ go shakin’ it like a birthday present t’ try’n figure it out. On the chance it might be fulla, y’know, dynamite.”

I followed the rust-colored pegasus back to the storage room to check it out. But after three tries, and the loss of two more bobby pins, I had to admit the lock was beyond even my expertise. Instead, Pip suggested we move on along the path I originally planned.

The door to the living quarters slid open with a reassuring hiss. The lights gave off a familiar whine… those that still worked. Seeing this place in rust and ruins was unpleasant in a way that I couldn’t describe. It was like walking through my own, personalized version of the post-apocalypse. I was finding doors that wouldn’t open. The floor was strewn with tin cans and litter. The generators, uncared for, were making an odd, rhythmic chirring. And from deeper within came chugging, banging and hissing sounds that sent shivers down my spine.

I turned to look back at Calamity and caught him picking bottle caps up off the floor. I decided to find anything useful as well. Looting and scavenging was survival out in the Equestrian Wasteland. And, logically, that applied to in here too. But, even more than stripping goods off fresh corpses, this felt like grave robbing. 

My thoughts scattered as, overhead, a burst of thunder hit so close to the cave that we could hear it inside the Stable. “What the hell…?” Pip stammered, waving her fore hooves to indicate the sky outside.

“Ah told ya. Thunderstorm.”

“That isn’t like any storm I’ve read about in my textbooks,” She countered.

"What kind of stuff did they teach you?" I asked.

Calamity looked at her with a softly mocking expression. “Weather ain’t like it used ‘t be. The sun an’ moon ain’t guided through the sky by ponies anymore. We pegasus…”

“The Goddesses Celestia and Luna move the sun and the moon through the sky each and every day!” She shot back, scandalized. Geez! What's her problem?

“Oh yeah.” He rolled his eyes at me. Rolled his eyes! “From their place in pony heaven. Right.”

She bristled. He stared quietly until she gave in, motioning for him to continue. “As Ah was sayin’, we pegasus ain’t around schedulin’ the weather, neither. Equestria’s weather has gone wild.”

"What's the big deal? Where I come from that how the weathers always been."

PIp looked at me in shock.

"What?"



“Huh,” I thought aloud. “There’s only one section of bathrooms.” At least, only one in the living quarters section of the Stable. The floor outside was wet and I could hear a roar gurgling, splashing sounds from behind the bathroom door. With the downpour outside, every sink and toilet was backing up.

The same went for the water fountains. The one between the school and the living quarters was spraying brown water. The horrible noises were coming from the pipes and plumbing rather than unnatural monsters. 

Pip stopped dead as a red spot flashed her E.F.S. Somewhere, just ahead of us, was surely one of the creatures Crane had talked about. Not, I realized, that either of us had bothered to get a description.

“So… any idea exactly what sort of ‘varmints’ we’re supposed to be looking for down here?” Pip whispered as we crouched down, moving as stealthily as possible. 

I noticed the sleeping areas were segregated, the main floor for stallions and a lower one for mares. 

“Actually no,” Calamity whispered back. “And as Ah recall, we ain’t supposed t’ be lookin’ for ‘em. We’re supposed t’ just close the door.”

“As I recall,” I retorted, maybe a slight bit less quietly than I should have, “I’m supposed to be closing the door. You aren’t supposed to be anywhere.” I couldn’t deny that he had a point. In fact, if trapped inside a creature’s lair, poking around was probably the dumbest thing a pony could possibly do. My curiosity and sense of connection wouldn’t allow me to leave it unexplored. And if I was trapped in here for a few hours, well, no time like the present.

Calamity shook his head, but followed all the same. 

We moved a few steps closer, and the red spot winked out. Pip turned quickly, trying to see if it had somehow gotten behind us, but there was nothing. Either the creature had evaporated, or we were right on top of it, one floor up. We crouched there, keeping still and quiet. After a moment, the red spot appeared again, once more right in front of us. And a few seconds later it vanished once more. This time, apparently, for good.

Aside from age and deterioration, the school in Stable Twenty-Four looked exactly like the ones back home. Students tables, all in nice little rows. A sharing area with toys. The teacher’s desk, with a terminal, pencils and even a long-rotted apple. The only real difference was a large glass tank which could have once been an aquarium. 

The constant banging and screaming of the pipes was adding to my discomfort and giving me a mild headache for good measure. Worst of all, we had encountered three more “ghosts”; hostile entities that appeared on the E.F.S, but nowhere else; a matter not at all helped by the fact that me and Calamity had no PipBuck's of our own so we couldn’t tell what Pip was reacting to. 

We entered a class and began to look around. There were several books still shelved, and a terminal of the teachers desk. I found some more bottle caps in an empty trash can.

“Ya'll ever heard of anypony named Prince Celest?”  Calamity called over to us as he looked at a book on a desk.

“What?” I walked over. “Lemme see that,” Pip said, snatching the book from the desk in front of him with a glow of telekinesis.She read a few sentences, then slammed the book shut to look at the cover. “The Stallion in the Moon?!”

Calamity chuckled. “Y’know, Ah think ah member my ma readin’ me a story like that… only, it was a mare in the moon, if I recollect.”

“That’s because it’s supposed to be The Mare in the Moon!’ Quickly, She began looking through the other books on the desks and school shelves. When She was done, she began to list her observations. “One: every significant pony in every book had been changed into a stallion…”

“Well, ah suspect some of ‘em were stallions t’ begin with…”

“Two!” She continued undaunted, even though her voice sounded strained. “Not one story or textbook has anything but the vaguest references to the history or governance of Equestria.” She looked really frustrated.

“Y’know, yer gonna burst somethin’ if ya don’t calm down a touch.”

She tossed the book she was holding into the corner with malice. I was about to walk out, indignation wrapped about me like a cloak, when I remembered the terminal sitting on the teacher’s desk. The screen was giving off a soft glow. I walked over to see what secrets it held. Pip joined me soon after. There entries were mainly filled with notes on attendance and grades. Two stuck out though. First:

Had a real surprise when we tested the young unicorns on their magic today. I had all my little ponies bring in their pets and show me how they could make them levitate. Simple enough, although a squirming animal can add a level of difficulty for foals at this age. I had to let both Butter and Peridance each borrow the class mascot, since neither have a pet of their own. Peridance was thrilled, but I think Butter is terrified of the snake, even though she’s been told it’s defanged and harmless. Needless to say, Butter didn’t do very well.  

The real surprise was little Quanta, who has been struggling with even minor levitation all year. Now I know these things have never been recorded in girls, but I can’t imagine any other explanation: we had a full magical epiphany occur right in our classroom. Quanta not only levitated herself, but she let out a flash of energy that affected all of the pets in the room. Most just panicked and had to be recovered, but some (including our mascot) seem to have vanished completely. And strangest of all, the arcane flash seems to have transformed Carrot Tail’s ugly old cat into… well, an even uglier old cat.

It only lasted a moment. Quanta seems fine. Didn’t even realize what she’d done. Of course, parents had to be called, and Carrot Tail is traumatized. It will be a miracle if I can teach these foals anything for the rest of the week. Meanwhile, I’m going to write up a proposal to have another unicorn stallion watch over these tests from now on. Just as a precaution.

The second entry that stuck out was four days later, and it was the last entry on the terminal:

I expected a few parents to keep their colts and fillies home after the excitement at the beginning of the week, but by now they should be letting them back. Instead, attendance is at its lowest yet. Over half my students have skipped their classes today. If things haven’t turned around after the weekend, I’m going to have to start calling parents. And if that doesn’t work, maybe even the Overstallion.

I stared at that last entry for a while. 

“Wait… the Overstallion?” Pip asked, confused.

Calamity looked at me curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“This  Overmare of this Stable was an Overstallion?”

I looked at her with an arched eyebrow. “What’s wrong with that?”

“The Overmare is supposed to be an Overmare. That’s what’s wrong.” Calamity narrowed his eyes.

“Are ya sayin’ a feller can’t do what a gal c’n do?”

Pip was taken aback. “N-no. It’s not that at all!” She waved her hooves in negation. “It’s just… It’s just the way it’s supposed to be. It’s tradition.”

"Odd tradition if you ask me." I muttered.

Calamity spoke up. “Ya sayin’ that even if there was a feller who was better at leadin’ a Stable than any other pony, stallion or mare, and had the cutie mark t’ show for it an’ everything, that he wouldn’ be allowed t’ on account he was a buck?”

Pip gulped, taking a step back. Wanting to ease the tension, I reached out and ruffled her hair, causing her to attempt to swat my hand away.

Calamity arched an eyebrow before let out a brief chuckle before turning to leave. This time, we followed him.



“Okay, now Ah do feel a bit embarrassed.”

In front of us was another door to Maintenance. To our right, the cafeteria. To our left, a maintenance store room. In the store room: a glowing terminal, several shelves of supplies, and a poster on the wall of a mighty stallion standing brave and tall, facing danger head-on, ready and able, while three mares crouched down at his hind hooves, frightened but looking up to him for salvation, adoration evident in their eyes.

Calamity felt embarrassed. Pip looked like she was creeping towards anger. I didn't really feel anything.

Pip soon spoke up, “Do you see… why I’m upset? This isn’t like, give it to the best pony, who cares about tradition. This is…”

“Ayep. This is manipulation. Alla these posters been here since before ponies trotted up into this Stable to avoid the apocalypse.” He turned and fixed me with a look. “It’s like sayin tha’ a job’s only fit fer either a mare or a stallion.”

I got the point.

“An’ that’s only true fer cookin’.”

I snorted back a chuckle as Pip looked steamed. “What?! What’s that supposed to… Oh. Ha ha. I guess I deserved that.”

“Ayep.”

I turned to hack the storeroom terminal and read over the logs of a pony who appeared to be the maintenance supervisor while Calamity and Pip hoof-picked some supplies worth scavenging. The clanging and banging of the pipes continued relentlessly.

I had just finished the fourth entry and was partway through the final entry when Pip noticed her E.F.S. flared up with not one “ghost” but five!

Entry One:
I cannot believe my luck. Persimmonie is one fine mare. The date last night went incredibly well. She even let me kiss her! And her little filly, Carrot Tail, seems to like me too. Even better, I kinda like her. I don’t have to pretend like I thought I would just to spend some more time with her mother. In fact, we have a second date planned tomorrow night.

Oh, and Greyhorn finally fixed the lighting on level 2-B. That flickering was driving everypony bonkers.

Entry Two:
Dammit, of all the luck. First, the whole lighting strip on guess-which-level blows out, plunging the damned atrium into blackness in the middle of rush. Even worse, Persimmonie postponed our date. Some unicorn filly did something wonky to Carrot Tail’s pet, and Persimmonie’s been with her all day trying to keep the little cunt from drowning in her own tears. I take it back. I hate children.

Entry Three:
Got called to the Overstallion’s office today. Big emergency that required my special talents. Any guesses? He locked himself out again. Again! This is the third time this week. Fortunately, any pony with half a lick of sense could get that thing open. Weakest damn lock I’ve ever seen. Still, just in case Greyhorn ever has to do it, I’ve left a handful of bobby pins and a copy of Today’s Locksmith in the Maintenance locker room safe. I’ve even highlighted the most useful bits for him. So as long as he doesn’t forget the password, even he shouldn’t have a problem. And I made the password his name, so… oh hell, he’ll still probably forget it.

Meanwhile, my love life’s taken a turn for the worse. Persimmonie’s filly is apparently in the clinic. I hear the cat attacked her. They’ll probably have to put it down.

Entry Four:
Where the hell is Greyhorn? Idiot missed his whole damn shift today. Called up to his room, but no answer. Goddammit, I’ve got to do everything around here myself.

Oh, I replaced the entire lighting assembly up on level 2-B and guess what? We’re still having problems. I swear to God the ponies who built this whole place must have been cutting corners. Probably cheated Stable-Tec out of fat loads of money. I hope their asses melted when the megaspells hit.

Entry Five:
Still no Greyhorn. Talked with some others, and they haven’t seen him either. Suggested I check medical. Would be just like him to find some way to fall and impale himself on his own horn.

Dammit, there’s that scratching sound again. Something’s managed to get into the ventilation system. I’ve removed several of the covers on this floor. Hopefully, whatever it is will fall out and I won’t have to send some colt crawling in after it. Did I mention how much I hate children?

Double-dammit. I just spotted the thing staring down at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was Carrot Tail’s damn cat. But they caught it and put it down yesterday.

Tripple-dammit! The damn thing just bit me! I swear, I’m going to send a colt up there after it with a flamethrower!

Looking up, I saw the dark opening where the covering grate should have been. And several pairs of alien eyes gleaming at me.

“Guys, get back, they’re in the ventilation!”

They both backed away at my shout even as the first creature leapt out, landing on the shelving, spilling a bucket of fuses crashing to the floor. It looked only vaguely feline, but with scales rather than fur, oversized fangs and cat-like eyes save that the slits ran horizontally. Somehow, that last part freaked me out the most.

It leapt at me, I didn’t have time to draw the gun out, or even think. I reacted instinctually, grabbing the creature's and hurling it away from her. It thumped back against the wall, hissing as Pip kept it pinned with her magic.

A second jumped out, hitting the terminal, and fell to the floor. I raised a foot and brought it down as hard as I could on the creature’s head. Turning around I dealt the one Pip was pinning with a fatal kick.

The third jumped right down onto me, claws catching in my mane.

“Get it off!" I cried, panicking, sending an elbow through the terminal with a crunching of glass and a popping explosion. I could feel the hairs on my arm singeing.

I turned towards the doorway and saw Calamity taking aim.

BLAM!

I threw myself to the floor, trying to dodge the shot… a second after Calamity had already fired, ripping the cat-snake-thing apart and leaving me unscathed.

I got wobbly up to my feet, Pip rushing over to see if I was alright. I tried to smile, although I could feel it was more like a grimace. I turned to Calamity and read his face: he wanted to tell me I should trust him, to tell me to stop being afraid he was going to shoot us. But he wasn’t going to. He couldn’t because he knew I had every right and reason to have a itchy trigger finger around him. 

In that moment, I realized something. He was actually sorry he shot us. He wasn’t here out of embarrassment. He wasn’t trying to fix some loss of reputation or standing, either in his eyes or anybody else’s. He really felt regretful that we nearly died.

I didn’t even realize I was thinking about him that way. But now I realized I had been. Dammit, now I felt like I should apologize to him.

I nodded in acknowledgement, a gestured he echoed before turning away, looking up at the ceiling. “Ah figure the sound of the shot scare’t ‘em off.”

“For now,” I agreed. I leaned back against the wall and slumped to the floor. "That was exhilarating."

"Are you ok?" Pip asked with concern.

I patted her in reassurance. "I'm fine Pip, really." 

She smiled before giving me a hug, nuzzling into my chest. I returned the gesture resting my chin in her mane.

After our brief embrace Pip helped be up before glaring at the stupid poster. “I hate this Stable.”




Little Macintosh whipped around, firing off three more shots. Three more of the evil little cat-snake-things were blown into oblivion. They were easy to kill, which hardly made up for being so small, fast an agile. 

Several more tried to jump onto Calamity, finding purchase with their claws. He bucked, throwing back his wings, sending them flying, and buck-kicked one of the fallen into a reddish paste. “How many… of these li’l monster… ya reckon we got?”

I fired at one of the creatures Calamity had thrown, hitting it dead on. The last got by me, leaping for Calamity’s back. I heard him howl as the creature sunk its teeth into the back of his neck.

“Hang on!” I wrenched the creature away, feeling Calamity's blood drip onto my arms. Tightening my grip,  I raised my gun and fired.

“Damn, those things got a bite.”

“Hold still. Let me look.” Pip was already pulling medical bandages out of her saddlebags. I was nearly out of those. I knew we could get some in either the clinic or the living quarters bathroom.

We had gone through Maintenance, a trip that had been a long, wet but uneventful slog through the lowest part of the Stable which was half-filled with water. We had found the locker room, and with the password we had opened the safe. My bobby pin collection was now far more comfortable, and Today’s Locksmith was tucked neatly in my saddle bags. The only creatures we had found in Maintenance were dead. Drowned. Despite looking like a cross between a serpent and a cat, the little monsters didn’t seem able to swim. 

We did, however, start finding skeletons. Sporadically at first, and now in groups. The closer we got to the atrium, the heart of the Stable, the more death we found. 

No less than nine of the damn things chose that moment to attack us.

Wrapping Calamity’s wound, I grimaced at my lack of medical skill. If I tried to join the “Ministry of Peace” they’d kick me out on my tail. It was bad enough when only I would die if I didn’t know the right end of a potion bottle.

Finishing, I turned to see Pip head back down the way we came. “Okay, that’s it. I’ve been a dumb pony. We turn around, gallop back to the entrance as fast as we can, barricade ourselves and wait the damn storm out. Then we leave and close the door behind us.”

“ahm… actually… Ah vote we continue t’ the clinic.”

I turned, surprised. Seeing Calamity, my surprise turned to shock. Then horror.

“Ah’m guessin’ y’all…” he teetered, looking pale beneath his coat. “…would keep somethin’ there for… y’know… poison?”

Thump. Down went the pegasus.

“Calamity!” 




Chimera


from the personal notes of Doctor Brierberry, Head of Medicine, Stable 24


I’ve chosen to call this new species “chimera” for what I feel are suitably obvious reasons. The creature is a result of a wild magical burst from a rather exceptionally gifted filly named Quanta. In a flash of uncontrolled magical power, Quanta managed to fuse several creatures within her vicinity into a single being -- a fully functional and completely new life form.

The initially created chimera took several days to molt before revealing its true nature, during which time another filly, Carrot Tail, was attacked by the creature. She was rushed to the clinic, but perished within hours from an unknown magical toxin injected into the child by the creature.

After molting, the chimera subsequently attacked a maintenance worker by the name of Greyhorn. This time, both the chimera and its victim were fully mature. Based on the case of Carrot Tail, we treated Greyhorn with antivenom spells and potions, but to no avail. Greyhorn lasted three times as long as Carrot Tail, and was in extreme agony for most of that period. It was only after Greyhorn’s death that we learned the key component of the chimera’s make-up.

As you will be able to see from the images I am having attached to this document, the feline and serpentine elements of the fusion are quite obvious. (See images C-1 and C-2) What we initially didn’t realize, couldn’t have suspected, is that there had been some manner of insect in the classroom when Roe cast her spell, and that too was infused into the creature on a deeply inherent level. You see, the fangs of the chimera aren’t so much like the fangs of a rattlesnake, but more akin to an insect’s ovipositor.

The behavior of this species is extremely aggressive, attacking any suitable host within which it can inject its eggs. Over the course of a single day, those eggs will mature within the host, after which a litter of new, baby chimera will dig their way out of the infected pony, ultimately killing the host if the pony is not already dead. In the case of Greyhorn, five new chimera erupted from his body less than an hour after he was pronounced dead. (See image C-3) You can imagine the look on my assistant’s face. (But you don’t have to. See image C-4)

Fortunately, from the case of Greyhorn, and the baby chimera specimens he provided us with, we have been able to devise and conjure an anti-chimera potion. Unfortunately, some of the herbs required were in tragically short supply, so there is a high probability that we will not have sufficient quantities for everyone. The Overstallion is keeping one bottle locked away in his office, along with the recipe. Meanwhile, I am storing the rest in the medical refrigerator here in the clinic while I wait for the Overstallion’s decision on how to implement dispersal.

By the time we were done reading, horror turned me numb. Slowly, I got up from Doctor Brierberry’s terminal and stared about the clinic. There were pony skeletons everywhere. Dozens of them surged towards the open door of the medical fridge. Others were entangled around each other.

A new species, extremely hostile, which renders its victims immobile with a single bite and then tortures them to death from the inside over most of a day… and in doing so can quintuple its number?

I swiftly realized the only thing that had kept the chimera from overrunning the Equestrian Wasteland was that river and the fact that these chimera can’t swim. 

If we survived this, I was going to have a little talk with Crane about his definition of a “small bit o’ trouble”. 

I looked at the bed Calamity was resting on, looking even weaker than before. 

Pointlessly, I stepped over and swung back the door of the fridge, already knowing I would find nothing inside.

Pip walked to the clinic window and looked out into the atrium. The room was dark. Every light in it had failed. The only illumination came from the couple still functional lights of the clinic, and the stuttering, flickering light from the circular window in the Overstallion's office above. If there was a single dose of the… “antidote”… left, it would be locked away in a safe up there. The only way to get to it was through the atrium.

The atrium was teeming with chimera.

I looked back at Calamity to check on the wound. It was staring to swell up badly, and I couldn't tell how much time he had left.

Hearing Pip clear her throat I turned to her.

"I have a plan."

"No." I stated after she finish

“That’s insane.” Calamity agreed

Pip's horned glow, and slipped open her saddlepack. “I’ll be okay.”

“No your won’t! That’s suicide! You'll end up getting yourself and Calamity killed!"

She looked at me sternly. “Let me guess. You’re thinking you should do it yourself. Calamity isn't strong enough to stand, and somepony has to look after him and make sure none of those Chimera get to him."

The rust-colored pegasus managed to look cross. “Then get yerselves out of here. Least two of us will survive this crazy Stable.”

Now I got to play cross. “I’m not leaving a friend behind.” I reloaded my gun.

Calamity caughed. He looked a me with genuine astonishment. “Friend? But… Ah shot ya.”

I rolled my eyes as Pip spoke. “Yes, you did. And I’m planning to remind you about that for the rest of your life. And I’m sure not going to get my blood’s worth if you die today.”

“Don’t be a stubborn fool, LilPip. There’s no way in tarnation ya can possibly make it there without attracting attention.”

"He's right Pip, you can't..."

Levitating the StealthBuck up for us to see, she smiled with a whole lot more confidence than I felt. “I do have this.”



"Ah never asked. But what kinda creature are ya?"

It had been an hour since Pip left, with no word what so ever. 

"My species scientific name is Homo Sapien, but I prefer human."

"Human huh? Ah've never seen your kind before."

"That's cause I'm not from this here."

"What do ya mean?"

"I mean, I'm not from this world."

"...What?"

I sat down on a nearby bed, "brace yourself. "It's a long story."

Pip arrived by the time I was finished. Calamity was still surprised about me being an "alien" but we would come to that later. After giving Calamity the antidote she stated it was going to take some time for him to recover. There was no way to know how long. Carrying the pegasus, I followed her on the path back, all too aware that the damn chimera were using the ventilation and that even cleared areas were not to be trusted.

We made it all the way back to the storage room near the main door. Sitting down with Today’s Locksmith, I went though, finding all the tips I could in a short amount of time. The highlighting really helped.

Outside, thunder shook the mountain reassuringly. I looked up and thanked Celestia for the storm.

The tips from the book proved useful. With a bit of effort and only one bobby pin, I was able to get the box marked dynamite. Inside, there was indeed dynamite. We removed each stick gingerly. Then placed a curled up Calamity into the box, closing it. Should a chimera come for him while we were busy, we didn’t want it to be able to get at him.

For the next few hours, we ran back through the entirety of Stable Twenty-Four. Everything but the atrium, opening each door that could be opened, and then blocking them with a trash can or a tipped-over filing cabinet or anything else that would keep the doors from closing.

As for the Atrium, after looting the clinic for medical supplies, I left a stick of burning dynamite on the windowsill of the Clinic and ran.

The rest of the dynamite was to blow the cave opening enough to bring the river pouring in. By the time Pip was ready to set that off, Calamity had gotten up and wondered why he was packaged as high explosive. His eyes got wider and wider as I explained what we were doing.

“Dayumn!” That was all.




We’d been down in Stable Twenty-Four for most of the night. It was dawn by the time we returned to New Appleloosa. The storm had eased up during that time.

Candi was kind enough to let me and Pip crash on unused beds in her clinic. More than fair payment for giving her the anti-chimera cure. 

It was still raining after I woke up, later in the afternoon. And it was late evening before Calamity had woken up and trotted out to join me. By then, Pip had finally been making some progress under Crane’s tutelage. She was panting, sweating heavily, as we stopped for a Sparkle~Cola break.

“I say we’re even,” I told Calamity as Crane floated an ice-cold Sparkle~Cola over for each of us.

“Ah don’t understand.”

“If we’d just stayed put at the door, you would never have been bitten.”

“If we’d stayed at the door, ya never woulda got the antidote.”

“If we’d stayed put, you never would have needed it.” Pip joined in.

“Ah-ha! But somepony else might! Crane said they’d been havin’ trouble with the critters, so obviously some of ‘em had been gettin’ out.”

Crap! I’d forgotten all about that. Still, with luck, and with their nest destroyed…

“It wasn’t yer Stable, y’know.” Calamity’s voice had taken a solemn quality.

Pip looked at our new friend. “What?”

“Ah know ya grew up in a Stable. But it wasn’t that Stable.It’s just… ya seemed t’ be takin’ what we found down there, Ah dunno… personally.” He looked at her earnestly. “Ah just wanted t’ remind ya, is all.”

I never grew up in a Stable. i could see that to Pip, Stable Twenty-Four become a personal affront. The inside probably reminded her of where she grew up and the incident with the Chimera's could've happened at Stable Two. I can't imagine what she was going through.

“Oh!” Pip pulled out a recording tape she probably got from the Overstallion's office. “Should we hear what’s on it?”



I'm Back!

Sorry about the delay, but I've been dealing with a lot of College work.

Also, my niece recently turned 2 on Oct. 1st, so as a birthday gift, I took her to see My Little Pony: The Movie.
Which was very good in my opinion.

I'm getting back to work on Operation Shattered Glass, and I'll try to update this more often. Till next time guys!
> Chapter 5: The truth is...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 5: The truth is...


“Hello! 

“My name is Scootaloo. You probably know me (since I am pretty famous) for my awesome performances at events like last year’s GALLoPS, or maybe just as the founder of Red Racer.“

...

"None of which means a damn anymore, of course. If you’re hearing this, that means Omega-Level Threat Protocols have been enacted and you are... are now... aww, dammit!!"

“Sorry."

“Okay... right now, I’m talking to you as vice-president of Stable-Tec. You have been appointed as Overmare (or, in the case of Stable Twenty-Four, Overstallion) of a Stable-Tec life-preserving Stable. You have been chosen for your sense of loyalty and duty, both to the ponies around you and to this company. And while the Stable-Tec HQ might be... probably is... nothing but blasted rubble now, our ideals live on."

“Your Stable has been selected to participate in a vital social project. The first goal of your Stable, like all others, is to save the lives of the ponies inside. But you also have a higher purpose beyond saving the lives of individual ponies. We here at Stable-Tec understand that it doesn’t do ponykind any good to save ourselves now only to annihilate each other later. We must figure out where we went wrong. We must find a better way. And we must be ready to implement it as soon as possible once the Stable doors open. ...And survive what our current leaders have managed to do to Equestria..."

“...dammit! I-I really hope no pony ever has to h-hear this. Can’t this all just be for nothing? They’re really going to destroy us all, aren’t they?..."
“...I’m sorry. Again, I’m totally off script. Where was I? Oh, yeah. In short, Stable-Tec is working to ensure a more... a more Stable society for future generations."

“Inside the safe in your office, you will find a set of special instructions and objectives, as well as details on how your specific Stable has been fitted to carry out your part. If at any point, you believe that your part in the project is threatening the safety and security of the ponies in your charge... as a whole... you are to cease participation and take any necessary steps to rectify the situation. In any other circumstances, however, it is crucial that you keep to the directives provided, and keep Stable-Tec appraised of all results as per your sealed instructions."

“Thank you. From all of us. From all of Equestria...“

“Thank you, and may somepony up there have pity on us all.”

Not the kind of message I had been expecting. Now my feelings about the Stables were completely twisted up in my head, and I just wanted to forget about them entirely. 

“Away with the old, embrace the new, right?” Pip clopped her hoof on the counter again. “Apple Whiskey, another of your specials, please!”

Apple Whiskey, the bartending unicorn who owned and ran Turnpike Tavern, poured us another glass. Then, as I watched, he lined up seven apples on the counter -- beautiful golden apples quite unlike the red, yellow and green ones back home, and waved his horn over them, magically transforming them one-by-one into bottles of the most delicious, pain-numbing, mind-easing fermented apple beverage. Beside me, Calamity clopped his hooves on the floor in applause and several mares in the tavern let up a whoop.

I downed another glass in less than a minute.

“Dunno why I was surprised,” Pip half-whispered, leaning near Calamity. “Your leader is a stallion, after all.”

Calamity’s ears perked up and he gave her a look of shocked confusion. “My leader? Ah don’t have a leader!” I couldn’t tell whether he sounded more offended or worried.

Pip hoofwaved. “I heard him. Over the sprite-bot. When it wasn’t being Watcher.”

Calamity looked at her with deeper confusion. And then broke into a riotous laugh. “What? Red Eye?” He turned to the rest of the bar. “Hey, everypony. LilPip here thought Red Eye was our leader!”

The whole tavern joined in on the laughter.

“Good Goddess, girl!” cried one of the mares down the counter from us, “Red Eye ain’t nothing but a puffed up prancer! Hell, Ah don’t even listen to that broadcast! Not when DJ’s on the dial!”

“huh?” 

“Ayep,” agreed a buck from a nearby table as he gathered a pile of bottle caps from his cross-looking companions, many of whom were looking at their cards in disgust. “Just let ol’ Red Eye try an’ come out here and make New Appleloosa part o’ his so-called ‘new world’! Ah’ll personally take all his unity an’ brotherhood an’ shove it right up his...”

“Just deal!” the pony next to him interrupted grumpily.

“So...” I fought to shove new facts into the puzzle I was building in my head. The drinks were great for forgetting, but not so great for thinking. “...the not-Watcher voice on the sprite-bot is Red Eye, and he’s not your leader...”

“What’s this watcher stuff?” the mare closest to me asked. “Those sprite-bot’s are just radios. Red Eye can’t actually watch ponies through them. They ain’t cameras!” She turned to Calamity. “I mean, could you imagine if he could...?”

Okay, now that I knew wasn’t true. But apparently the fact those sprite-bots can be used to spy wasn’t common knowledge. Watcher had tipped us off to something.

As I poured another drink, one of the bucks from down the counter called out, “Hey, Apple Whiskey! Put DJ on!” Apple Whiskey looked up to a brown box on the top of one of the shelves which had wires running to speakers throughout the Turnpike Tavern. With a slight glow of his horn, the radio turned on, and a beautiful mare’s voice, possibly the sweetest I’d ever heard began to pour out of the speakers. 

“How did this happen? What have I done? 
I was only trying to help, but I caused so much pain.  
I wish I could hide. Wish I could run.
I wish I could find a way to do it all over again...” 

The voice, and the song she sang, was so solemn and sad and filled with determination that it made my mind go to unhappy places. I soon felt like crying, and had to force myself not to. I figured more drink would help, so I finished mine and reached for another.

“...I lost sight of the war while fighting my battles.
and now I carry the weight of the world on my saddle...”

Oh, this was unbearable. My heart was breaking, and I wasn’t even sure why. I grasped at a distraction, “DJ? Who is DJ?”

The answers came fast, almost too fast to keep up with. It seemed every pony in the tavern had something to say.

“DJ Pon3, of course!”

“There’s always a DJ Pon3!” 

“Best music in the Equestrain Wasteland!”

“...yeah, all, what, twelve songs? Twenty?”

“He’s a ghoul pony. Been around forever.”

“No he’s not. They keep changing. Back when I was a filly, DJ was a mare!”

“Ah hear he’s a pegasus. He’s got station up in the clouds. That’s how he always knows everything what’s goin’ on.”

“That’s stupid. Everypony knows DJ Pon3’s station comes outta Tenpony Tower in the Manehatten Ruins!”

“He is too a ghoul pony! He’s been around since before the war!”

“Ah heard the original DJ Pon3 was actually a mare named Vinyl Scratch who was killed when the zebra balefire wiped Manehatten. But her nephew was spared, bein’ in Tenpony an’ all, an’ took up the mantle.”

“I heard it was her sister.”

"What are those small tentacle at the end of your hooves?'

My head was spinning. The last question confused me, but I just didn't care. Calamity was smirking at me. Leaning close, he whinnied “There’s always a DJ Pon3.”

And in the background, the voice of seemingly infinite beauty and sadness, cried out, “How can I fix this? How many times must I try? Please, this time, let me get it right!”

The music died away. And a voice came over the radio. “This is DJ Pon3, and that was Sweetie Belle, singing about that one great truth of the wasteland: every pony has done something they regret. And now, my little ponies, it’s time for the news! Now you ponies remember when I told you about that little  pony who crawled themselves out of Stable Two? And that strange bipedal creature who appeared out of nowhere? Well, I’ve been getting reports that those two took out the raider nest in the heart of Ponyville, and saved several pony captives, including the beloved author of The Wasteland Survival Guide, Ditzy Doo! Hey you two, thanks! From all of us! And now the weather: cloudy everywhere, with a chance of rain, gunfire and bloody dismemberment...”

I didn’t really hear the rest. I was too stunned. We were on the radio. DJ Pon3 was talking about me. My heart mixed with pride and panic, the latter quickly swallowing the former. I’d been here less than a week, and I already had a reputation that was spreading across all of the Equestrian Wasteland... a reputation that built me up into somebody far more heroic and capable than I actually was.

“…one last thing, the other Stable Dweller andMysterious Wanderer was last seen out near Appleloosa. My prayers go out to those two. And that’s the truth of the matter. Now back to the music. Here’s Sapphire Shores singing how the sun can’t hide forever. From your lips to Celestia’s ears, Sapphire!”

After a moment, I turned back ot my drink. What?!? I nearly chocked. Luckily Apple Whiskey gave me a few hard pats on the back to help me. 

"Thanks." I muttered, turning to see Pip looking at Calamity with a bewildered look.

“Near Appleloosa? I thought this was Appleloosa!”

Calamity snickered, still not done having fun with her. “No way, LilPip! This here’s New Appleloosa! Ya can’t have a new without havin’ an old, now can ya?” Then he quickly got serious. “Now, ya don’t wanna be goin’ anywhere near old Appleloosa, ya hear me? That’s a slaver town!”

Apple Whiskey interrupted. “Well, there’s no harm goin’ up that way t’ trade. Ah sell a good bit o’ my trademark apple whiskey to those folk.”

I was stunned. Surely he was kidding! “You… trade with slaver ponies!?”

“Ayep. In fact, got a train headed out that way on the morrow.”

I looked about with disbelief. “You trade with slavers!?!”

Calamity whispered in my ear, “Why ya think I never took up livin’ here.” It wasn’t a question.

After a while, Pip decided to call in a night. I would've joined her but I felt too drunk to walk, so I decided to wait until I was sober. I sat there, bored out of my mind while listening to the idle chit chat around me, when DJ Pon3 spoke up.

Alright ponies, for our final entry tonight, I give you "Countess Coloratura singing hope in the darkness."

Another voice came on. Thanks Pon3, I'd like to dedicate this song to the Stable Dweller and the Mysterious Wanderer."

What followed after, was the most beautiful thing I ever heard.

"Madam mares and gentlecolt's...
Listen to my song...
Life out there's been hard for all...
But it has made you strong..."

As she continued, I could feel tear dripping down my face. Something about this mare, had really struck me deep. As she continued to sing about the wasteland, I couldn't but be enamored with the sound of her voice.

"Look's like the Countess has a admirer." Apple Whiskey chuckled.

"Shut up!" I answered, turning away as the blood rushed to my cheeks.

Not long after the song came to an end, but Coloratura wasn't done.

I'd like to send a thank you to them for all they've done. They inspire me to want to do more to help those who are struggling in the wasteland. If the two of you are listening, I hope to meet you one day."

"Me too..." I mumbled. "Me too..."



Next morning, I found myself out in the continuing downpour, staring at the train and feeling a little guilty that I couldn't help Pip load the flatcars as part of her training with Crane. That evening would have gone a bit differently had we known where those goods were headed.

“Ah can’t talk ya outta this, can Ah?” Calamity stood next to us, checking the loads on his battle saddle.

My head was thudding dully -- the aftermath of too much apple whiskey -- but I was thinking clearly. I knew this was foolish, but where there were slavers, there were slaves in need of rescue. I knew part of me was just trying to live up to my overblown reputation; but I’d also been a captive of slavers, if for only a few hours, and I couldn’t just ignore the fact that there were ponies up there who needed somepony to care enough to try and help them. “No.”

“Well, then Ah’m comin’ with ya'll. Always wanted t’ take a shot at that damn place. Figure, if there’s three of us, might actually have a chance.” 

His words left me feeling immensely relieved.

“Ah’ll talk to Ditzy Doo fer supplies. Don’t want neither of us t’ run outta ammo up there. Or food. We c’n take the train up the mountains and out over the desert, but chances are, we’ll be trottin’ back.”

I mulled that over, and suddenly realized that even if we had our own supplies, what about any ponies we rescued? And would they be in any state to make that kind of trip? Not that such questions deterred me at all. But I’d have to find a way to talk the ponies pulling the train to wait for us. As we “robbed” the town they were trading with, no less. I voiced my concern to Calamity.

“Yer gonna hafta do some fast talkin’ if ya wanna convince them o’ anything like that,” he replied, then seemed to have an idea. “Ah know somepony in town that jus’ might have whatcha need t’ pull that off!”

Calamity trotted off, leaving us staring at the train once again.

"This is a crazy plan, isn't it?" Pip asked, looking up at me.

"Crazy is a going into A Stable full of mutant, venom filled, monster. This is psychotic. But I'm in.

"You sure, I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to stay."

I knelt down to her level. "I'm sticking with you Pip. We come this far, and I'm not about to see my friend die." I ruffled her mane.

She smiled. "Thanks Casey."

"No problem."

While we waited, Pip tried to familiarize herself with the train. I explained to her that flatcars and boxcars held supplies. Passenger cars, of which this train had only one, were for carrying ponies. The fancy red car on the back was the caboose and the big, bronze one with the smokestack was the engine. 

Want to know more, she asked one of the puller ponies what those cars were for. He was happy to answer.

He pointed a hoof towards the red car in the rear. “The caboose has the breaks. Y’see, when we go up the mountain, we have ta keep switchin’ out puller teams cuz that there’s hard work. One team pulls, one team rides and keeps a lookout fer raiders. But when we go down the mountain, every pony rides. And we use t’breaks t’ keep us from goin’ too fast.” 

Now he pointed at the engine. “That's fer pullin’ the train. Although mostly we just use it for the whistle. Keeps varmints off the tracks.”

“For pulling the train? I thought you bucks pulled the train?” Pip asked.

“Ayep. We do.”

“Then…”

“Well, cuz the engine don’t work without coal. Ain’t got no coal, ain’t got no coal car even if we had it. So instead, we use pony power.”

That didn’t make any sense. “So, the engine can’t pull the train, so you all have to pull the train and the engine?” 

“Ayep.”

“Okay… then why don’t you have any coal? Where’s the coal?” Pip questioned.

The train pony rolled his eyes at her, “Oh, their ain’t any coal in Equestria. All the coal’s in a far, far away land.”

“Then… how… was the coal… supposed to get here?” Pip pressed.

“By train, o’ course!”

"Then why don't you guys just decouple the engine? Also if the whistle doesn't work, why keep it?"

The pony turned to me, "well because... Uh... Uh... huh? Actually... that's make sense. Why do we keep it?" He asked himself with a perplexed look.

Splashing through puddles, Calamity trotted back. After the train pony had gone back to his work, Calamity reared up and waved his forehooves around, making a mock-spooky face. “Oooooh! All the coal’s in strange far-away lands… full of zebras! oooOOOoooh!”

I stared at him non-plussed. “Done now?”

He dropped back to standing and pulled a tin out of his saddlebag, offering it to me in his teeth. I held it up for a closer look. The tin had a scratched out picture of a zebra on it.

“Those what are in there are called Party-Time Mint-als. Brewed up using Mint-als an’… well, some other stuff. Guaranteed to make ya the life o’ the party. Those things ‘ll clear up yer hangover, clear up yer head, an’ make you the smoothest-talkin’ pony in all the wasteland.”

I looked dubious. But then, I trusted Calamity, and what did I have to lose? Opening the tin, I pulled two of the little squares inside, passing one to Pip before putting the other in my mouth, chewing experimentally. I had to admit, they were tasty, although the aftertaste was kinda bitter. But I didn’t feel any different than I…

WHOA!!!

The whole world shot into stark focus. Colors became brighter and more pleasant. Even the rain seemed nicer. And my thoughts! I was thinking more clearly than I ever had. I was figuring things out I never could before. My God, where had this wonderful stuff been all my life!? 

I felt confident. Figuring out just what I needed to say was going to be easy. I could talk anybody into anything! And I was about to prove it!

I turned to Pi with a crazy grin, and she looked at me with the same expression.

"Awesome~" We both said.



Hours later, I stared out the window of the passenger car, watching the landscape roll by. Or, at least, as much of it as I could see considering the sky had darkened and the rainfall had escalated again. Remembering rivulets running down the cliff face near Stable Twenty-Four, I prayed the storm wouldn’t cause us trouble when going up the mountain.

Talking the train ponies into waiting for us had been easy, making up for the crash when that Party-Time Mint-al wore off, leaving me feeling half-blind and horribly stupid without its help. It was all I could do not to eat another right away. In fact, I would have done so if Calamity hadn’t snatched the tin away. Luckily for me, unless it's A twisty donut, root beer, or Ledo's pizza, I wasn't the kind of person to become addicted. The same couldn't be said for Pip.

Pip tried tuning in the DJ Pon3 station; it was barely audible through a haze of static. New Appleloosa, I figured, was near the edge of good reception. Pip tried another station on her PipBuck, and found the music of the sprite-bots. Calamity told her to turn it off.

Staring out the window again, I found my mind drifting until it settled on, of all things, Coloratura. A pony whowas doing everything her power to keep the citizens of Equestria on their bright side. I couldn't help but admire her for that. Raiders, slavers… I wondered if she'd suffered from the hooves of either of them. I tried not to picture that, better to picture her singing. With that heavenly voice that sent tingles down my spine and...

I'm gonna keep the rest to myself.

Calamity suddenly spoke up, “What’s got ya smilin’ like that alla a sudden?”

I turning to see Pip chuckling and shaking her head. “Laughter is a virtue.”

“What now?” I asked.

She smiled, holding back a laugh of her own. “Maybe not giggle-giggle laughter, and definitely not bwah-ha-ha laughter… but the kind of inside laughter that allows a pony to take everything this world throws at her and not lose… joy.” 

I turned back to the window, my own spirits somehow higher than they had been in days.

Lightning flashed outside. Pip gasped, jumping onto my lap as she tried to get a better view of outside.

"What's up?" I asked, looking out the window in confusion.

"I could have sworn I saw a the head of a giant pink pony, the size of an ursa major, peering at me over the hilltop, grinning. "

...Maybe the Mint-al she ate wasn't done yet.



“Ya ready?” Calamity shouted through the downpour.

The train was approaching Appleloosa (old Appleloosa). Calamity, Pip and I were standing on the rain-slick roof of the passenger car, wind whipping rain into our faces and pulling at our manes and tails. I nodded.

I wrapped my arms around Pip as Calamity wrapped his forelegs around me, Calamity stretched out his wings and caught the wind. The storm snatched us up off the train, and Calamity began to steer us towards a ridge that overlooked the slaver town.

"You sure you can't handle the weight?" I yelled out.

"Don't worry, I'm fine!" He replied, though I could his legs shaking slightly.

The wind buffeted us, making me fearful that we would crash, but Calamity’s course stayed true. 
We landed… and Pip immediately slipped and fell in the mud.

Calamity and I barked a laugh. Pip shook really hard, flinging at least half of the mud onto us, and then laughed too.

But then we stopped. Virtue or not, there was a time and a place for laughter. And this wasn’t it. I passed my binoculars over to Calamity while Pip pulled out the sniper rifle to peer down its scope at the collection of dilapidated wooden buildings, derailed boxcars, makeshift metal structures and slave cages that made up old Appleloosa. The train was just pulling in.

“You two, you stay up here. I’m heading down in.”
She said.

“Ah didn’t come all this way t’ stay back.” 

"Neither did I." I added.

She levitated the sniper rifle to Calamity. “You’re my cover. And my quick exit if things go bad. Unless you think you’d be better at picking those locks and I’d be better at flying you out. Casey, you're with me."

He clearly wasn’t happy, but conceded her point.

Pulling out Little Macintosh and checking to make sure it was loaded, she started down the slippery ridge. I followed, pulling out my shotgun. I didn’t want to have to use the gun. Not that I was feeling particularly live-and-let-live about slavers. But our guns weren't quiet.

We ere most of the way to the first set of cages when a flash of lightning illuminated the landscape starkly. If it hadn’t, I would have been dead a moment later. As it was, I was merely screwed.

Mines. 

All around the cages, the fucking slavers had scattered mines. The rain had washed away the dirt covering some of them, the orange metal casings reflecting the flash of light. There were surely more, but I had no idea how many. Or where. 

After her session with Crane, Pip was much better at self-levitation. But that only got us to the fence. I was far less confident that she would have the power to levitate all the slaves to safety.

“Hey, who’s there?” A voice out of the darkness, a slaver pony. We weren't the only ones to have seen something in that flash of light. 

We scooted, moving as stealthily as we could. I hated to leave the slave pens, but we needed more time. If we'd shot, we’d bring the whole place down on ourselves. If I tried to take out a slaver pony with my hands, I knew he’d be able to call for help before I took him down. So, instead, we decided to hide, slipping into the nearest shack.

We immediately regretted it. The shack was only a few rooms, and from the one upstairs, I could hear what I really hoped was two slaver ponies going at it. I felt both embarrassed and disgusted.

Trying not to make a sound, I looked about for a place to hide. I didn’t want us to be standing right inside the door if that guard pony decided to take a peek into the shack. Pip also started peeking in boxes. I knew this was stealing, not just scavenging, but these ponies stole other ponies, so I didn’t figure they had any standing to complain.

With a screwdriver and a bobby pin, I didn’t even spare the lockbox I found in the next room. Sitting inside, I found something… unique. A little totem. A statuette of an orange pony with yellow mane and tail, poised in mid-buck. What struck me was the three apple cutie mark, identical to the mark on Little Macintosh. I held it up to read the inscription on the base (Be Strong!) and felt a surge of magical energy. 

I’m not sure what it did but… I actually felt stronger! Not just physically, but in confidence. Slipping the statuette into my saddlebags, we finished looting and…

The door banged open. “There you are!”

Pip whipped around, and fired two shots into the pony, one in the head and one in the chest, before he could reach me to pummel me with his spike-shod hooves.

The sound carried. Immediately, the two ponies above stopped their intercourse and came charging down the stairs. Only one of them had stopped to grab a firearm. 

BLAM!! BLAM!! BLAM!!

Little Macintosh roared like thunder. The slaver pony with the gun never even got a shot off. God damn it! I didn't even get to fire a shot.



Fire blasted past me as I dove behind a rock, dragging Pip with me.

A flamethrower! This fucker was attacking us with a flamethrower!

“Oh, I smell roasted pony for dinner,” snarled the slaver with a flamethrower battle saddle. “How about a little barbecue!?” I was seriously hoping he was just being awful, that these ponies weren’t so depraved as to actually eat other ponies!

Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed above us. We ran for the cover behind a crazily-tilted boxcar. Flame whooshed out behind me, catching Pip's tail! With a yelp, she thrashed at a nearby puddle with it until the flames disappeared. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Cringing back, I brought out the shotgun. Unfortunately for Pip, Little Macintosh ran out of bullets three dead slavers ago. Two of those had been unicorn slavers wielding shotguns, and now I was in no danger of running out of shotgun shells any time soon.

The flamer slaver stepped around the corner and got a face full. He went down hard.

Swiftly, I took what I wanted from the body, including the battle saddle. Normally, I wouldn't condone such extreme violence, but this slavers had seriously pissed me off.

Including the pony with the flamethrower and the two out in the rain, I’d put down a total of three slavers. I was surprised that all the gunfire wasn’t drawing a lot more attention. The thunderstorm might account for much of that, and these guys seemed to have a level of stupefying ego that prevented them from just running to get more help. But there had to be more at play than dumb luck, dumber slavers and the weather!

Battling the slaver guards was pushing us closer to the huge multi-story barn at the heart of town. There was a lot of light pouring out from the windows, and a lot of noise. As we drew closer, I could hear music. Pip checked my PipBuck, but old Appleloosa appeared out of the range of every station except one, the sprite-bot station. How that station covered everyplace, I had no idea. Although I suspected the sprite-bots themselves might actually be acting as relays too. This music, however, was not that music.

Going in the front door would have surely been death. But creeping up the catwalks to a second-floor entrance proved safe. We tried to slip in quietly, but the moment I had cracked the door open, the wind flung it wide with a crash. We cringed. Then poked our heads inside. The room was empty. It was crammed with broken furniture and old filing cabinets. Bottle caps, ammo, and packages of cigarettes were in several of the cabinets; they found a new home in our saddlebags. I didn’t smoke, and had no intention of starting. But I could sell the packs to Ditzy Doo, who would resell them to the surprising number of Appleloosians who did. 

A door towards the far end opened onto a balcony. From there I could see the room was a wide open saloon, packed with ponies who were drinking, gambling and watching the performance on a stage directly below us. The balcony ringed the saloon, and there were guard ponies walking around it in a pattern. They were focusing on the chaos below and hadn’t spotted us

Suddenly, Pip crouched flat on the balcony floor, poking my head over the edge and gasping.

"What is it?" I asked, mimicking her movements. She pointed to the stage, where a black unicorn mare that had a white mane with a red streak was singing. I turned back, "you know her?"

"She's the reason I left Stable 2." Pip said as she kept her wide eyes glued on the stage. "That's Velvet Remedy!"
> Chapter 6: The Singer
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 6: The Singer


Velvet Remedy.

So this was the mare Pip was searching for. I mean, she was beautiful, and she had a great voice. But the fact that she was singing for slavers made me feel suspicious.

I turned to look a Pip, who was staring dead at her with an enamored look. Ah, I see what's going on here.

"You may wanna close your mouth. You're staring to drool."

Pip broke out of trance, wiping away the drool. I couldn't get rid of the stupid grin on my face as she glared at me.

I turned back to the guards making their rounds. They didn't see us, but soon they would. So, we quietly moved back the way we came.

"I wanna take a guess and say that getting Velvet has become our top priority."

"What was your first clue?"

This caused a ripple in the plan. Not only did we have to worry about the other ponies in those cages, but something personal had been added to the situation. 

The moment we stepped outside, I knew that we were in trouble. There were multiple slavers, with lanterns strapped to their backs, and they were standing around the corpse of that flamethrower bastard I put down. Our activities were gaining more and more attention. Four of the ponies turned and ran towards the central barn. They were gonna trigger the alarm!

A single gunshot rang out through the storm, and the lead pony dropped. Two of the runners skidded to a muddy stop and dove for cover, while the third kept moving. He nearly made it to the barn, close enough that the barn door was splattered with red when Calamity hit him.

Some heavily armed slavers spotted Calamity on that last dive and began firing in his direction. But he was fast, the lighting was bad and the slavers aim was about the same as Dashiegames.

The four were working in a group, moving towards the barn while covering each other. We raced down the catwalk and towards one of the old wooden buildings surrounding the megabarn, shotguns reloaded and ready. But the door was locked. 

Pulling out a bobby pin and the screwdriver, I began to work. The glow from Pip's horn was helpful. The lock really tricky, and I lost the bobby pin. 

Behind us, the noises from the central barn changed drastically. The singing stopped. And the drunken hollers were replaced by houts. 

Pulling out another bobby pin, I tried again, with Pip getting antsy. I could hear the barn doors swing open, with slavers tearing out into the storm. Cries for blood and rape and death, scared me that those comments were directed towards us.

The door’s lock finally gave. Without a second to lose, we dove inside.

POW! POW! POW! POW!

Four rapid shots with our shotguns, and the guards were dead before they had time to react. I admit it was still unnerving to be killing ponies, even if they were slavers, but I shook it off. One of them had the keys both to the front door and the cage that took up two-thirds of the room. 

My eyes widened at what I saw before me. There were weapons and boxes of ammo, some stacked on top of other boxes of ammo!

As Deadpool would say, "holy gun boner!"

I tossed Pip the keys, "lock the door!"

Moving quickly, she locked it,then began to barricade it. Bottle caps and gaming chits slid to the floor as I flipped the table and pushed it against the door. Pip levitated the filing cabinet against it to hold it in place. The desk, I noticed, had a glowing terminal. 

First, however, was improving our armament. 

Seven ammo boxes, two gun cabinets and a weapons locker later, were less like a pony and a human and more like walking arsenals. There were dozens of weapons, but all in such crappy condition that we were only able to salvage three useful ones including a needler pistol, the repair assist spell of Pip's PipBuck allowed her to swiftly tear down the worst of the weapons for the best of their parts. The weapons locker contained two battle saddles, both far too heavy for us to bother with. 

We now had ammo for everything but Little Macintosh, including weapons I had never seen before, like 'spark packs' designed for recharging magical energy weapons, and three missiles.

The biggest prize in the lot had been a set of schematics for creating a homemade gun that would fire poisoned needles! 

The slavers took little time figuring out we had barricaded ourselves in their armory. Locking the door was pretty pointless; the first pony to the armory had her own set of keys. The table, cabinet and desk were proving much more worthwhile, and by the time Pip had finished repairing the weapons we were taking, they had finally stopped struggling. They were probably waiting to ambush us, but that gave us yet a little more time. We used it to take a look at the terminal. The password was “terminal”. 

Entry One:
Had a surprise inspection from the Ministry of Morale yesterday. We pretty well knew it was coming, and I’d been given instructions on what to do; but I couldn’t believe how smoothly it went! We slip them a small percentage of the special product, and they give us clean marks? Even if they were dirty, I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t bring the cage down on us and impound all of it for themselves. Seemed too good to be true. So I did a little digging, and a friend of a friend working over at Ironshod who claims to have an inside peek gave me this apple to chew on: according to him, the head mare of MoM herself actually loathes the new contraband laws. And since MoM enforces those laws, that means all sorts of tasty zebra treats are slipping into Equestria right under the Princess’s nose. I figure this means as long as she says golden delicious, we’re golden delicious. And even if the Princess suspects her (and how dense would she have to be not to?), she really is the one pony the MoM can’t bring up on sedition charges!

Entry Two:
Finally wiped the crap from this terminal. Three-hundred plus documents that I have absolutely no use for (and many of which it’s probably best there not be a record of). All except that one damn file from forever ago with the weird-ass flag on it that prevents tampering. And trust me, I’ve tried.  

Don’t know why we even bother keeping record of where we send the goods, since they’re all going to the same damn place anyway. I don’t know what the hell Stern needs all these slaves for, but unless she’s building an army, whatever it is has one hellish rate of attrition.

Boss is more worried about the attrition rate in transit. A third of these fuckers don’t make the journey, and Stern ain’t paying us none for corpses. I’m supposed to figure out a way to keep the damn goods alive at least until after caps exchange hooves. Maybe a cocktail of drugs will help. Found a false floor last week leading into a buried boxcar just full of the stuff!

Entry Three: 
I’ve finally convinced the boss that we need to start a little side business in the foal market. The young ones are easier to corral, control and train. Sure, we have to play up the “investment” angle, since they can’t do the work of a normal slave, but there are plenty of ponies out there who see the potential. Unfortunately, Stern ain’t one of them. That bitch has no patience. 

Turns out, a mixture of Buck and Dash, in small doses, does mighty well in keeping the more worthless slaves from keeling over before they make Fillydephia. What happens to them after Stern gets her hooves on them ain’t none of my concern. Still got to talk to Whip Crack about going a bit easier on them though. No drug cocktail is going prevent a pony from being lashed to death. Might suggest swapping out which slaves are pulling the wagons a bit more often too.

Entry Four:
The cells in the old sheriff’s station have been perfect for foal holding. The settlers of Appleloosa might have constructed a lot of this place with an eye to speed over lastingness but they sure knew how to make a holding pen. I’d even say that the cells in there are a close second in the list of stuff I’m glad they left behind when they all kicked the bucket, next to that apple pie recipe!

Turns out, gathering foals has made hitting isolated homesteads a much better risk. The parent folk have a tendency to get annoyingly shooty when we come to claim them, but they also take such great pains to keep their little ones out of the fight that even if we have to kill off all the adults, we still make a good profit. 

Entry Five: 
What a fucking cock-up! A whole shipment, two wagons worth, slaughtered. Best we can figure, they ran into a stray hellhound. Damned taint fucks everything up. Now I hear that Stern is sending a “special representative” to take a look-see at our operation. Sounds more to me like she’s planning on taking over. I think she’s in for a face-buck surprise. And this “special representative” best watch her tail.

Got a new herd of foals ready for breaking. Raked in the caps with the last batch. Another benefit of dealing in foals: you only have to kill one of them in front of the others to take the fight out of them. 

Entry Six:
The last week has been beyond words. Stern was playing it close to her chest with that “special representative” business. I never had any idea! Let’s just say I was shaking in my shodding when our new boss heard about some of the stuff I’d been saying back when we didn’t know her. But I guess it’s easy to be understanding when you’re connected to the divine! Besides, we still have what’s left of the old boss as a reminder that the new boss’s hooves ain’t soft.

The new acquisition is going to do wonders for keeping the slaves up. Good thing too, since the new boss don’t cotton to the Buck and Dash trick. Fortunately, I was able to convince her that was Apple Core’s idea. Poor Apple Core. Never saw it coming.

All hail the living Goddess! 

By the time I was done reading I was too stunned to speak. Pip could have set the town on fire with the heat of her seething. We had to get those foals yo safety, we couldn't them for the slavers to do god knows what to them.
I just hope Pip wouldn't let Velvet Remedy distract her too much.

I was about to move away from the terminal, when Pip start to stomped around angrily, trying to move the desk.

"Uh, Pip?" She didn't seem to hear me. I was about to help her when the barricade exploded inwards! Agony coursed through me as I was thrown back against the wall. My head slammed into the armory cage and for a moment, I lost consciousness. The slavers had launched a missile at the door! 

I was lucky Pip had those healing potions. I gulped down another one and already, my wounds were closing. Even with the potions, my head was still throbbing in pain. I'm glad Calamity found us.

Pip was worried about the missile, but Calamity calmed her. According to him, a missile-launching battle saddle takes some effort to aim correctly, meaning that any pony short of a true expert with the things would be planting him/herself for each launch. Which would make them an easy target.

When I could stand again, though still wobbly, I hastily filled Calamity in on what we had discovered. He gave me a confused look as Pip went on and on about Velvet, before trotting over to take a quick peak at the battle saddles. Neither, he declared at a glance, were sufficiently similar to his own to even raid for spare parts.

We didn't spend any more time in the armory. The slavers would be back any moment. We decided to split up. Pip and I would look for Velvet Remedy while Calamity hightailed it to the sheriff’s office, where he would scout out the place and hopefully take out any guards. We'd meet him there soon to unlock the cages.

Slipping out, we parted ways and slid into the storm. The slavers missed us by seconds.



"Pip, are you sure we can trust her?" I asked as we neared the boxcar

"Of course! Why wouldn't we?"

"Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that, she was singing for slavers."

Pip came to a holt, and turned to me with barely concealed anger. "She is not with them! She's probably being held hostage! And I intend to rescue her!"

I shook my head as she turned back.

We jumped into the boxcar when we were close enough. I slid the boxcar door shut behind me.

And there she was.

“It’s about time!” Her tail was to me as she faced a wall with three yellow boxes arranged so their butterflies were in a triangular pattern. “I can’t very well do any good sitting in h…”

She had turned a glance towards me and stopped. Now she turned slowly towards me, staring. “Oh… no…”

Looks like my suspicions were true.

“Oh, oh dear!” Her eyes traveled from my face to Pip's face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a breath.

Pip stood tall. “I followed you out of the Stable. Came across the Equestrian Wastlelands to find you. I’m here to rescue you!” She wore a winning smiles, but added meekly. “I’m not stalking you.”

I face palmed. Oh Pip, if only you realized it.

“Aren’t you now.” She shook her head and pranced around almost as if distraught. “I tried so hard to keep anypony from following me. This isn’t what I wanted at all!” Then she looked at me again, and this time I could tell she was seeing the wounds. And the weapons.

“You’re the one out there shooting up everything? You are, aren’t you.”

Pip was confused. “Yes. Like I said, I’m here to rescue you.”

“Rescue? Littlepip... I’m not a prisoner. I’m here of my own volition.”

I knew it.

“You’re… here… with slavers... You’re… working with slavers!?” Pip was shocked, and I couldn't blame her. Going through all that to find somebody only to realize it was a wasted effort.

She stared at me, her voice cool. “And you’re cutting a bloody swath through them. How many ponies are dead tonight because of you, Littlepip?”

“They’re slavers.” I cut in. 

“And how about the people they support? This is a town, Littlepip. There are merchants and tavern owners and workponies here. Have you killed any of them? Are you sure?

“No, I haven’t. I’m sure!” Pip responded.

“And the slaves? Do you think you can kill slaver ponies and they won’t retaliate? Do you think they wouldn’t take it out on helpless ponies to make an example?”

“Why?” Pip mustered.

Velvet Remedy’s voice never faltered, nor did her poise. “When I left the Stable... after leaving a message to keep anypony from following me,” she gave us a pointed look, “I came upon a band of ponies who had been set upon by a horrific beast. There was only one survivor, badly wounded, missing a leg. So of course I galloped to his leg. "

“Did you know I always wanted to be a medical pony? I bound his wounds and carried him back to his camp. It was a slaver camp, and there were several ponies there who were in severe need of aid, particularly amongst the captives.” Velvet Remedy looked about the boxcar, which I began to realize was not her cell but her room. “I’ve been with them since.”

Pip was stunned. “But... you’re helping slavers!”

Velvet Remedy turned away from us, staring at her wall of yellow medical boxes with little pink butterflies. Casually, as if talking about the weather, she told us, “I read in a book once, back when I was about your age, that when Fluttershy, the Mare of the Ministry of Peace herself, stepped onto a battlefield, she insisted that her healer ponies tend to everyone wounded on the battlefield. Everyone! Pony, zebra, to her it didn’t matter…”

Velvet turned to us and slowly asked, “How could I do any less?”

“It’s different!” Pip argued.

“Oh?” Velvet challenged, “How?”

I decided to not to butt in just yet. But Velvet was right. Back home, it's the same thing; war never changes.

“Look.” Pip tried, “These slaver ponies… when you save one of them, you’re making it possible for them to hurt and kill other ponies. Destroy lives. The slaves you heal? They’re being sold into horrible work that ends up killing them. The slavers are just using you so those poor ponies survive the trip into hell.”

Velvet looked pained. “You don’t think I know that? But else can I do? I’m just one pony. And I will not do nothing! Would you have me just trot away from suffering ponies because they have the misfortune of being captives of slavers?”

I now felt the need assert myself in the conversation. “You can help us rescue them.”

She chuckled sadly, shaking her head. “Rescue them? The three of us? Against all those slavers?” She looked me over, “Not that I don’t doubt your resolve… or your firepower. But we would be horribly outnumbered…”

I grinned, “We have support, and he’s a pegasus!”

Velvet shook her head. “Even if we did, then what? Did you also bring food enough for the slaves? Water? We are many days trot from the nearest friendly settlement, and many of the poor ponies I have been tending are in no condition to make such a trip. Some of them are foals!” 

Her gaze traveled to Pip's leg, and her eyes widened. “Oh dear!” She pointed. “And it doesn’t look like you are in any condition to either. If we had a few hours, I could tend to that, but...”

She sat back. “Oh I admire your bravery and sacrifice. But Littlepip, did you really think this through?”

“Of course I thought it through,” Pip stammered. “I have a train!”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened with surprise. And for the first time, her voice was hopeful rather than hurting. “That… might work!” 



Calamity stood guard atop the sheriff’s office as Velvet Remedy and Pip made their way to the cells inside, with me keeping an eye out. Nearly half a dozen colts and fillies, looked up at us in feat. But softened when they saw Velvet Remedy, and she smiled gently at them in return. “I have good news, little ponies!” she said softly, hesitating with a grimace before stepping over the headless bulk of one of the guards Calamity had created. “We’re all going on a train ride!”

I admired how she was with the foals, nuzzling them through the bars. My eyes slid down to her flanks, noticing with amusement that she had two medical boxes strapped to her sides as saddlebags, only now realizing that the scarlet and golden streaks in her hair and tail had suggestive similarity to the pink and yellow that I now associated with the Ministry of Peace. 

Pip soon opened the cage. The little ponies inside looked at me with mixed expressions: fear, confusion.

"Hi." I waved, causing some to partially hide behind Velvet and others to hesitantly return the gesture.

“We got incoming!” Calamity’s voice broke through the sounds of the rain. “Whoa… guys, we got trouble! Big trouble!”

Velvet adopted a worried expression. Moving deftly, I snuck up to the nearest window and looked out. Two ponies were striding up toward the sheriff’s office, clopping though the small river that the street used to be. A third watched over them from the top of a boxcar, then leapt down to walk between them. The two on either side wore heavy battle saddles, but it was the figure in between that caught my attention. 

She was tall, her body exuding a graceful malice and strength I’d never seen in a pony. In truth, she hardly looked like a pony at all. In fact, she looked more like a winged unicorn.

"Hey Pip?" I called over my shoulder.

"Yeah."

"Were there any other ponies like Princess Celestia and Luna?"

"Well, legend says that there was princess Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic. There was also a rumor of a Princess Cadence and her daughter Flurry Heart. And that's about it. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." I responded, as kept my eye on the mystery pony. "Just that we might be in some deep shit."

The voice of the mysterious, dark mare carried majestically through the torrent. “We will give you just one chance to come out. Do so. Or We will bring the whole building down on your ears!”

With a yee and a haw, Calamity dived towards the enemy trio, firing twice. Four bullets struck home and the pony to the left of the winged unicorn fell with a splash, blood washing over the strange mare’s hooves and down the river.

The strange mare responded with a whinnying laugh that had no emotion. “Such impudence!” I gasped as the mare’s horn glowed a sickly green and a blast of lightning ripped from its tip, slamming into Calamity’s chest, throwing him back through the sky. 

“Oh shit! Calamity!” Calamity was spiraling down, unconscious, but he was soon enveloped by the green glow of Pip's horn, holding him hovering over the minefield that surrounded the slave pens. His eyes blinked open, then widened with terror as he saw the mines below him, his hooves thrashing in panic as he tried to backpeddle through the air.

“Oh… now isn’t that touching!” The mare turned to the slaver pony still flanking her as Pip glided Calamity to safety. “Kill her.” The slaver pony trotted forward, the many barrels of his battle saddle pointed at the age- and weather-weakened wooden structure. 

Behind me, I heard Velvet Remedy telling the foals, “Lay flat, all of you. As low as you can!” I turned to see her waving her horn at their cells. And I marveled as a weak, shielding glow wrapped about the cells. I realized Velvet Remedy had not thought to place herself within the spell of protection she wove around the children.

The roar of the slaver’s battle saddle was nothing like I've ever heard before. I dove to the floor and joined Pip behind a metal desk, feeling bullets slice the air just behind me and then ring against the metal as they tried to murder the desk.

I heard Velvet Remedy cry out and fall. 

The roar paused, as if the battle saddle needed to catch its breath. Pip jumped up from her position, forehooves on bullet-riddled desk, while rushed over to Velvet. Three of the bullets had struck her, one only grazing but two sunk deep into her belly. As quickly as I could, I opened one of her medical boxes and pulled out a roll of medical bandages. 

BOOOOM!!!

I was slightly distracted by the explosion, but I kept working.

“That was almost impressive,” she drolled. “But now playtime is over.”

The door of the sheriff’s office ripped off its hinges and went sailing into the darkness. “Go ahead,” the mare taunted, “throw your best spell.” No spell came. 

“Oh!” the mare laughed. “No spells? Well, aren’t you just a pathetic excuse for a unicorn!”

I finished binding Velvet as best I could. She stirred, moaning in pain. 

“And here We were hoping that the great assassin who decided to assault Our town would at least provide Us with a challenge. We have been so utterly bored!”

I noticed Pip's horn beginning to glow.

“Telekenesis again? Such a foal’s game.” The mare was closer. “For the trouble you’ve caused Us… and worse, for wasting Our time with your patheticness, first We will kill your friends. Then have them chopped up into a nice stew. Which We will feed to you.” 

Pip's horn glowed brighter, making me feel a little nervous.

“…No, We think We will instead feed them to the foals, and make you watch!”

The glow of Pip's horn flared, a bright overglow enveloped it. I noticed she was trembling.

“Still. Not. Impressed.” The light from Pip's horn was pouring out the doorway and through the bullet holes of the building. “So what’s this? Levitating all the little ponies away? You can’t send them far enough that We won’t catch them. Or maybe you are trying to levitate every gun in the armory? Even if you could, this shield around Us will stop any bullet!”

A second overglow erupted from Pip's horn, enveloping the first. And Pip began to scream. 

"Pip!" I was about to stand up and help her, when some to the side caught my eye. My eyes widened. "Oh...shit..."

“Oh, enough of this!” The mare called out.

“You’re right,” Pip said, stepping feebly into the doorway, the effort made me fear that she would pass out at any moment. “I am small. Weak… pathetic.” Her crippled leg was wobbling so hard it made her teeth chatter. She lowered her head. “I am a sad excuse for a unicorn with no spells but the foal’s cantrip of levitation.” The light bathed the mare. I could see that she wasn't black, but dark forest green in coat, with a mane streaked in green and purple. 

“But I’ve gotten really, really good at it.”

Again, the mare looked around casually, trying to guess what Pip was up to. “Well, maybe you are not worthless after all. Give yourself to Us. Join Us in Unity. Become something greater than this wretched thing you are now.”

A third layer of brilliant overglow erupted from her horn. I covered my eyes to avoid the blinding light. Through it, I saw Pip drop to one knee. “No!”

Still covering my eyes, I stood up to help her. But then I noticed the shadow.

“Oh what are you doing? And what in Celestia are you?” The mare questioned. The second part towards me no doubt.

I smiled as Calamity spoke, “keeping ya from castin’ a shadow.”

“What?” The mare looked down. Then up a second time, this time seeing the much softer glow coming from above the sheriff’s office. The boxcar drifted into view over the roof and stopped above her. 

I couldn't help myself as Pip let it go.

"You have a train to catch."

<<<------======!!!WHAM!!!======------>>>

I grabbed Velvet dove behind the desk to avoid the splash of mud. I as got to my feet, I noticed be laying still on the ground.

I rushed over to see if she was still breathing. She was.

As I wiped some of the blood off her face. Calamity landed beside me.

"She alright?"

I nodded, "yeah."

"Good. By the way," he turned back. "'You have a train to catch"? Really?"

"Oh, shut up. And help the others." I replied, picking Pip up.
> Chapter 7: Train Wreck
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 7: Train Wreck


I laid a blanket over Pip as Velvet tended to her leg. I sat down as across from them, thinking back on what happened, while Calamity stared out the window too make sure we weren't being followed.

I was beyond stunned when I saw the boxcar floating above us. I couldn't believe Pip mustered the strength to lift it. I wasn't really surprised when she collapsed after dropping it.

My thought were interrupted when I noticed one of the fillies from the sheriff’s cells looking up at me nervously. They looked weary and beaten; two of them were asleep, but one had enough strength to look at me. “What are you?" She asked as she looked me over with curiosity. 

I gave her a small smile. "I'm what's known as a human. You can call me Casey." I held out my hand for her too shake. The filly stared at the appendage before turning to look at Velvet, who was know watching us. She gave the filly an encouraging smile and nodded before turning back to Pip.

The filly turned back to me and hesitated before place her hoof on the palm of my hand shaking it.

They kids soon warmed up to me. They asked me about where I came from, to which I happily replied. Things eventually grew quiet. Until Pip woke up.

She looked like she just saw a ghost. She was covered in sweat and looked terrified.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." I greeted as she looked around.

"That was awesome!" One the colts said, mimicking how she dropped the boxcar on the alicorn.

“We’re... okay?”  She asked, looking at Velvet who nodded reassuringly.

“The slaves?”

“In the caboose.” Velvet answered. “This train only has the one passenger car, and I felt the foals needed the space more dearly. So it was either the caboose or strapping them to a flatcar.”

"If you ask me, we should've thrown them off or put a couple rounds in there skulls." I stated, crossing my arms.

"Here, here!" Calamity agreed.

Pip let out a small giggle. I enjoyed seeing her smiled. It always seemed to brighten up the room.

“But the locks...?” She suddenly asked. I knew what she meant.

“You can thank Velvet for that." I gestured toward the unicorn.  "I wanted to take a crack at them but Velvet found a way to... bypass the need for lockpicks or keys.”

The train rumbled around us. I glanced out my window, we had already traversed the desert and we were well on our way up the mountain. The pace of the train ponies was slowing; we were getting close to the peak-point of the mountain track. 

“Our shadow’s back.” Calamity mentioned.

“Shadow?” Pip asked as she sat up.

The colt who spoke up earlier declared, “Mister Calamity thinks something is following us.” I noticed Calamity was crouched to the window, looking upwards through it… towards the sky?

“Another...one of those... like at the sheriff’s?” She asked.

"Ah don’t think so. But there’s a’somethin’ up there. Keepin’ just out of sight.”

“If it’s out of sight, how do you know there is anything there?” Velvet countered. But at Calamity’s look, she relented. “Another pegasus, perhaps?”

Calamity grimaced. “Ah... really don’t think so.” He returned his gaze to the window, quieting.

“At least it has stopped raining,” Velvet Remedy announced, looking out the window. “That storm lasted for days.”

I turned and looked out at the thick grey cloud cover. The rain had indeed receded, and the clouds were a much lighter color, turning the sunlight a drab grey.

“Velvet...” Pip started.

“Thank you, Littlepip." Velvet turned to me. "And thank you Casey. Your bandages saved my life.” 

I looked at her, knowing that there that my poor excuse for medical skills were enough to nurse her back to health. I was about to correct her but she lifted a hoof to interrupt. “No, but you managed just well enough that I regained consciousness, and from there I could take care of myself,” She cast a sidelong look towards Calamity. “Not to mention you and that interesting friend of yours.”

Calamity snickered in her direction.

Velvet continued, “I did tell you I’d always wanted to be a medical pony. I studied for it and even apprenticed.”

I looked at her curiously. “If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you?”

“Because my cutie mark showed up. One day, I sang a song for an ailing gentlepony, and it appeared. A songbird, a nightingale to be precise. And when your cutie mark appears, your place in the Stable is decided.” That was actually kind of sad. To have role assigned to you without being able to do anything about it.

“I even begged the Overmare. But clearly it was to be my destiny to be an entertainer, my fate was written on my flanks. My voice was the most beautiful in the Stable, and I could not deny that I could sing. Or that I even enjoyed it a fair bit. The Overmare even showed me my geneology, proving that I was the many-times-great granddaughter of Stable Two’s first Overmare, who herself was also a legendary singer.” I nodded, she did have a great voice.

“How could I fight the weight of all of that? The Overmare... she graciously allowed me to indulge my hobby in the small times when it wouldn’t interfere with my new duties of uplifting the Stable’s flagging morale. But my dreams, I was told, were not for me.”

"That's bullshit." I commented, gaining a surprised look from her. "You shouldn't let a mark decide your destiny. If you wanted to be a doctor, than you should've kept at it."

She was about to speak, but this time, I interrupted her.

"Where I come from, we don't let symbols decide what we do or what other people tell us. And do you know why?"

She shook her head.

I leaned forward. "Because we're the masters of our fate. We're the captains of our soul. "Who cares what the Overmare says? Only you can control your destiny."



“Ah’m gonna talk a walk outside, maybe stretch muh wings.”

I looked up from the book I was reading to pass the time. The train was slowing to nearly a stop. The engine had already crested the peak, and the train ponies were drawing the rest of the train down over the lip and around the next bend before releasing it and jumping aboard themselves. There wasn’t going to be another chance to get some fresh air.

"I think I'll join you," setting the book down, I got up. "You gonna be ok Pip?"

She nodded. So I moved towards the door and opened it up.

Leaning against the railing, I took in a deep breath of fresh air. I admit, this adventure of mine was really fun. Meeting new friends such a Pip and Calamity, exploring a new world. 

It was like being in a video game.

But, the more I thought, the more questions plagued my mind. Why am I here? Do I have a purpose? Will I ever get home?

I was brought out of my thoughts by the roar of a mini-gun. Followed by screams.

A second later, gunfire ensued.

I moved back inside. Pip was attempting to calm the foals as Velvet Remedy returned through the back door, looking worried. At nearly the same moment, one of the train ponies from the switch team burst in, shouting and waving his paws, a lever-action shotgun floating by his side. “Slaver ambush! Protect the children!”

Before I could ask, a pony wearing slaver armor, spiked hooves covered in blood, broke into the passenger car and reared up, intending to kill one of us. I just drew my assault rifle and fired at him. The train pony ducked, his own gun swinging around and unloading into the slaver. 

As Pip checked her PipBuck I turned to Velvet, tossing the needler gun along with a marked clip. “Take this and guard the foals. We'll go on ahead!” 

Velvet stared at the weapon in shock. “I... couldn’t.” 

Oh for God’s sake. “You’re not going to survive out here if you aren’t willing to fight back.” I gestured towards the foals. “And neither will the ones you’re protecting.”

Velvet gulped. “I mean... I don’t know how!” 

Pip answered for me. “It’s easy. Float it up, pointing this end at the bad guy. To shoot, pull this little lever back; that’s the trigger.”

“I’m not a killer. I... I don’t think I can!”

“Learn to,” I responded.



The train slid down the track, picking up speed as more raiders jumped aboard. Two earth ponies with miniguns had slaughtered the pulling team. The barrage of return fire had slaughtered them in return. 

Pip and I stood our ground, weapons at the ready. She attempted to shoot a slaver who jumped aboard, but she missed and the slaver jumped back down.

Looking up, I saw Calamity moving through the air, a griffin in hot pursuit. The latter kept slowing down to shoot Calamity with his rifle, but the pegasus was too fast.

I heard clopping coming closer, but as I turned my attention back to the boxcars ahead, I saw nothing. Confused, I took a step towards the edge, looking down to see if they were racing up along the ground...

There were three slaver ponies racing along the side of the boxcar.  A unicorn was likely aiding them since a magic glow held their hooves to the side of the moving train. 

“Luna rape you with her horn!” Pip yelled as she opened fire. Two ponies screamed as they fell from the train, mortally wounded, one breaking his neck in the fall; but the third made it to the gap between cars before I shoot him.

The train was moving at a fair clop now. I raced along the roof jumping to the next car and skidding to a stop. I looked down between the cars, and quickly pulled my head back as the slaver spotted me and fired a mouth-held submachine gun into the air where my head had just been.

Pip pulled the wide-eyes slaver up out of his hiding space, allowing me to pelt him with bullets. I then heard Pip cry out in pain. I turned to see the pony I had missed before had come up behind her, a whip clinched in her mouth that she wielded with hellish accuracy. With a crack of her whip, she knocked Pip's assault rifle out of the air.

Suddenly, Calamity swooped low over the boxcar and banked sharply, his hooves scraping along the cliff above us on the other side of the train. The griffon swooped over the train in pursuit. We ducked, but the whip-pony wasn’t quick enough and ended up decapitated. It was then I noticed the blade on the griffon's wings.

Pip grabbed the pony’s whip, kicking the head off the train. 

Getting up, I heard more gunfire as the remaining train ponies fought for their lives. Suddenly, something thumped hard somewhere towards the front of the train, which shuddered as its wheels crunched through a body that had fallen down onto the tracks.

Calamity landed deftly beside me.

I stared at him in surprise, and he seemed to blush as he hoofed at his mane. “Ah’m ‘fraid Razorwing couldn’t join us. He refused t’ get offa muh tail. Even when Ah swooped between two of the cars.” Calamity smiled, looking around as if trying to find a missing friend. “Ah swear, he was right behind me just a moment ago!”

“Go help Velvet!” Pip called out. "I think she's in trouble!"

Calamity nodded and took off, as we moved to help the train ponies.



The last survivor of the train ponies joined us as we across the rooftops and dived down into the open door of the passenger car as twin beams of pink magical energy soared above us. The other train pony wasn't fast enough and was turned to ash.

Inside the passenger car, the body of a slaver hung from the ceiling, filled with needles. The spell on its hooves was keeping it from falling to the floor, even after death. The train pony shrieked in surprise.

“Ah tell ya, I prefer slavers who shoot bullets!” the train pony gasped, recovering. “Ya can’t wrap a bandage around bein’ turned t’ dust!” 

Velvet Remedy ran in through the back door, coming off the flatcar behind. Seeing the train pony, she motioned for him to head behind her. “Please, go meet up with Calamity! He’s at the caboose!”

“We’ve got a nasty one on the way,” Pip warned her. “And another four coming behind her. I think these are the last of them, but one is using a battle saddle with magical energy weapons!”

Velvet Remedy nodded warily, then looked up and pointed at the corpse above. “t-This one came in on the roof! L-like an insect!”  She was clearly shaken, no doubt from having to take another's life.

The earth pony trotted past her, reloading his weapon and bucking the door closed behind him.

A minute later, Calamity galloped up. “Everypony’s in the caboose and Ah’ve kicked it off! The slavers won’t be gettin’ t’ them from here!” He lowered his head and stomped at the floor. “Here’s where we hold the line!”

Three slavers came at us through the windows.

I jumped back as a slaver swung his magically enhanced sledgehammer at me. I ended up tripping over one of the seats. The slaver raised his sledge hammer, ready to bring it down. I caught it as he swung and the magic around seemed to dissipate, confusing both of us. Shaking off my confusion, I kicked him in the muzzle, causing him to stagger back. Dropping the sledgehammer, I raised my gun and riddled him with bullets.

As I got up, I was shocked to see a slaver sink his combat knife deep into her shoulder, barely missing her neck. Blood gushed around the blade and turned her charcoal coat a wet black. 

The slaver grasped the hilt of the knife in her teeth, intent on pulling the blade out of the wounded singer, but Velvet’s horn glowed, a telekinetic light enveloping the knife. It was simple, weak telekinesis, holding the blade. Giving me enough time to fire, causing Velvet to get splattered with wet bits.

I then turned to see the unicorn who shot at us with the pink energy from before.

And not a second later, Pip put one between her eyes.



I was glad that we made it through nearly unscathed.

I exhaled as I laid back in my seat, happy to catch a break.

"You did a good job out there Littlepip," Velvet commented to Pip.

“You are doing more than your share with your healing skills and mending spell,” said pony responded. “Although I’m surprised you didn’t stay with the freed slaves and foals.”

Velvet Remedy whinnied. “That caboose was too crowded as it was. If I’d have tried to force myself in there too, somepony would have suffocated!” 

I chuckled, "At least we took them down.

“Ayep,” Calamity agreed, “Looks like that was the last of them.” 

The train groaned dangerously as it tore around a corner, forcing us to catch ourselves. Velvet looked between us with alarm. “Don’t either of you ponies think we’re going awfully fast? How does this train of yours slow down?”

“We use the brakes.”

“And where are they?”

“In the caboose.”

Velvet’s ears dipped back. She stared levelly at Calamity. “The caboose? That would be the big red car at the back, right? The one you just kicked free of us?”

I jumped up, "You did what?!" 

Calamity grimaced a little. “Ayep.” Pondering, “Y’know, that would explain the look the train pony was givin’ me.”

“I begin to see how you got your name,” Velvet said flatly.

Several minutes of confirming our situation and arguing over what should be done followed as the train continued to race down the mountain out of control; soon we were bracing ourselves against every turn. We were still only halfway down, sheer cliffs flying by on either side. In the end, Pip came up with a solution. 

“Calamity, fly Velvet and Casey to safety!”

Velvet’s eyes widened, “But what about you?”

"I’ll be fine. I’ve figured out another way off.”

"I'm not leaving you behind Pip!" I commented. "And no amount of talk is going to change my mind."

Pip looked like she was going to argue, but didn't and flashed my a grateful look.

The others hesitated but agreed. They made their way to the nearest flatcar. “Ah’ll be back for you!” Calamity promised as he spread his wings and took off.

And then we were alone on a runaway train.

"Any bright ideas!" I asked as I tightened my grip.

"I'm thinking!" Pip responded. Soon after, her horn started to glow.

I heard the train squeal as it righted itself on the track, already headed towards another turn, this one throwing the train’s weight against the rising cliff wall. The rocky wall raked at the train, damaging the boxcars and tearing off most of the roof. I ducked down to avoid the splinters.

When I opened them again, wind was buffeting me fiercely through the gaping wound in the train car. As saw another turned coming closer. Pip began to levitate us off the ground.

And soon after the train hit the curve. With a horrific, screaming shudder, the train tore from the track, soaring out over the mountain cliff, and plunging towards the valley over a thousand feet below!

I saw the train fall past me, diving down into the dead forest below with a crash. The destruction below me God had thrown a stone. The ground was coming to greet us.

"Casey!" I heard Pip shout.

I looked up to see Calamity had caught her, but her spell had stopped.

I smiled as I closed my eyes and prepared for impact. 

Only it never came.

Opening my eyes, I saw i was enveloped in an white aura. Down below, a familiar black unicorns horn glowed the same color.

Thanks Velvet.



The four of us moved through the valley. With no idea where we were.

From what Pip found in the terminal entries, the slavers of old Appleloosa were selling the most of ponies they captured to someone named Stern in someplace called Fillydelphia.  

We were in desperate need of medical supplies. Likewise, the water and food we had packed wasn't enough to support three ponies and a human for several days. 

After a while, we decided to rest. I was still pretty shocked I had survived all of that, I was considering rethinking my religion.

The valley was strewn with black, dead trees and bits of debris, that told of the devastation of Equestria’s apocalypse. Fallen chariots and similar vehicles were everywhere. According to Calamity, we were below the outskirts of what had once, high above us, been the pegasus city of Cloudsdayle. Now, it was just a graveyard.

Inappropriately upbeat music floated like a siren song through the valley. Pip began galloping towards the source, with us scrambling to join her.

“Littlepip!” Velvet gasped, “What is it?” 

"Could it be him?" I asked, but Pip ignored me.

"Could it be who?" Calamity responded.

Before I could respond, Pip used her magic to envelop the machine. “Watcher!”

Calamity and Velvet looked at her strangely.

“Watcher!” I shouted crossly, shaking the sprite-bot. “Watcher, I know you can hear me! I need you right now!”

“Littlepip,” Calamity began slowly. “Ah don’t think...” He stopped, eyes widening fearfully as the music ended in a mid-song pop and the sprite-bot spoke directly to Pip.

“uh, hello, Littlepip. How can I help you?” The tinny, artificial voice addressing her clearly.

“I need you to send a message to New Appleloosa! “ She waved frantically. “There’s a caboose headed down the mountain, without a train. The train pony inside will make sure it reaches the bottom safely, but there are lots of ponies inside, including five young ones, who cannot survive out here on their own. New Appleloosa needs to send wagons to get them.”

Watcher was silent, hesitant. 

“Watcher, they’re not in good shape. They have no food or water. Time is of the essence!”

Watcher spoke slowly, “I don’t know, Littlepip. I’m not in the habit of...”

“I. Don’t. Care!” Pip shouted. “You care about those ponies, don’t you? Do you want to see those foals die?!”

“No! I mean, yes, I care. No, I don’t want to...”

“Then get help! You don’t have time to indulge your shyness, Watcher. Lives are at stake!”

"Whoa Pip!" I called out moving towards her but Velvet stopped me.

With a pop, the sprite-bot’s song continued and Pip released it.

“Littlepip,” Velvet nickered, approaching her. “If you keep ordering your friends around, you’ll soon find you don’t have any.”

Pip looked to Calamity who seemed to agree with Velvet, before he followed the latter.

Pip then looked to me with sort of a pleading look.

I honestly didn't know what to say. So I simply shrugged and followed after the others. I heard her steps behind me soon after.
> Chapter 8: Story of the Pegasus
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 8: Story of the Pegasus


I had seen a lot of overcasts back home, but none ever game me the ominously the one above was giving. We moved through the graveyard of vehicles. Many contained the skeletal remains of their riders.

There was a billboard Sparkle~Cola bottle, the stylized carrot was recognizable. A yellow pony with a pink mane was holding it in euphoric glee. According to Calamity, these billboards had once littered every major "skyroute" between Cloudsdayle and other cities, advertising goods and services from all over Equestria. 

I noticed Pip and Calamity were staring at a nearby wagon.

"What did you find?" I asked, walking over.

“This is where Ditzy Doo fell,” Pip answered.

Oh.

“Who?”

I turned to see Velvet trot up beside me.

“Ditzy Doo,” I echoed. I wonder what it must of been like for her, when she became a zombie.

“Ayep," Calamity agreed.

Velvet walked past, circling around the back. Moments later, I heard her call out, "Littlepip, would you please come look at this?" 

Behind and inside the wagon were several crate, some of which were torn open. Except for a safe and a footlocker in the back. The latter seemed to excite Velvet, it was marked with three bands of yellow, the center one with a pink butterfly emblem.  

“Sure, no problem,” Pip announced proudly, floating out the screwdriver and bobby pin as while Velvet tried to contain her excitement. It almost made me laugh.

The inside of the safe contained a rosy glow emanating from a bottle of luminescent purplish-red liquid:



Sparkle~Cola


RAD!


With an invigorating touch of radiation and a blast of radish flavoring!


(It’s like a buck to the face! With radishes!)


Velvet levitated the bottle up to her face. “That’s insane. How could any pony be so stupid as to think consuming radiation is healthy?”

The bottle was enveloped in aura of Pip's horn, who was trying to take it back. The little tug of war game brought a nagging feeling to my mind that caused me to join in. I reached to grab the bottle and as soon as I had in my grip the magic around is dissipated, leaving all of us surprised.

"How did you do that?” Velvet asked in shock.

I shrugged. It was just like with the sledgehammer on the train, the magic around both objects seemed to dissipate when I grabbed them. It made me wonder how Velvet was able to catch me with her magic.

The drink didn't interest me so I passed it to Pip who stowed it away.

Pip decided to try to open the footlocker. “This is a tough one... I’m going to need concentration. Could you two step out? Please?”

"What you did back there. How?" Velvet asked me as we stepped outside. "Magic just doesn't disappear like that."

"I honest don't know. The same thing happened on the train when a slaver tried to bludgeon me with a sledgehammer," I explained. "When I grabbed it, the magic dissipated."

"Then how was I able to catch you? You should've kept falling."

...

"That came out wrong."

I frowned, but I let it slide.

"Maybe it's because I was struggling?" I suggested, which seemed to confuse her. "One the train, when the magic dissipated around the slaver's weapon, it was because I had grabbed it to keep him from crushing me. And earlier, with the bottle, I was trying to grab it and I succeeded."

"When you caught me with your magic, I didn't try to fight it. So maybe it only happens when I concentrate."

Velvet was still a little confused but accepted the answer. After a few moments of silence she spoke up again.

“Calamity, may I ask you something?”

“Ayep, Ah reckon you can,” the Pegasus answered.

“Why is it that you are the only pegasus pony I’ve seen in the Equestrian Wasteland? I was under the impression that pegasus ponies should be as common as earth and unicorn ponies.”

This puzzled me too. Other than Calamity, I didn't see any other pegasus. Not at Ponyville or New Appleloosa. Hell... Now that I recall, none of the skeletons at Stable 24 had wing bones.

There was a pregnant pause. Then Calamity nickered, “Wow, lady, when ya ask a question, ya go right for the throat, don’t ya.”

“I’m sorry. I apologize if this is a personal...”

“No, no. Ya should know, Ah guess.” He let out a sigh.

“Ya ain’t gonna find any other pegasus ponies. Not unless they’re... like me.” He paused as if speaking about this was physically taxing. “Ya see, back durin’ the war, we pegasus ponies were Equestria’s greatest fighting force. We were the elites! The best of the best! But after Cloudsdayle was hit, well... that was it, game over. They abandoned the war, abandoned Equestria... although it’s not like either one of ‘em lasted more’n a few hours past that anyways. The pegasus ponies closed up the sky an’ went inta hidin’.”

“They closed up the sky?" I asked.

“Ayep. They kicked the cloudmakers up t’ full power an’ locked ‘em like that. Saved their other cities, their families. The zebras couldn’t well target what they couldn’t see. Not that they didn’t try. Got a few lucky hits, but not many.” He dug at the ground with his hoof. “Ain’t been a day that ain’t been at least mostly cloudy in Equestria since.”

Velvet Remedy gasped. “That... that’s horrible!”

“Oh, they keep tellin’ themselves tha’ any day now, they’ll turn ‘em off, open the sky, come swoopin’ down t’ save the rest of ya. When they’re ready. When the time is right.” Calamity nickered in clear contempt. 

“Been tellin’ themselves that for upwards of two hundred years now. Truth is, they’re too arrogant an’ lazy t’ bother. S’long as they c’n keep tellin’ themselves that they’ll do the right thing eventually, they c’n live with themselves. Meanwhile, y’lot are all dyin’ down here, from slavers an’ raiders an’ monsters... and yer making a damn hard effort of savin’ yerselves without their help.” 

"It sounds like they're a bunch of cowards to me," I commented.

Calamity let out a chuckle, "Ah suppose they are."

“And you?” Velvet asked him.

“Ah didn’t find the livin’ with myself so easy as that lot seem to, buncha winged horseapples.” 

After that, I decided to look for anything else valuable while Velvet went back to check on Pip.

All of a sudden, I thought I heard a squeal come from the wagon, but I paid it no mind.

As I kept looking throughout the wreckage I could've sworn I heard shuffling around me. My mind was probably playing tricks--

“Zombie-ponies!”

Zombies? Whe-waagh!

I didn't have to think before one pounced on me. It was big one, try to bite down onto my face. Damn, it's breath smelled bad. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a pistol and pressed it beneath it's chin.

Blood and grey matter went everywhere as the body slumped to the side. I brushed off what I could as I got and ran to join the others. Several more zombies were beginning to show up and they were charging at us.

“Run!"

I ran as fast as I could, even faster than the others.

I could hear the zombie-ponies behind us, craving our flesh. I could see several Pegasai circling above us.

I ducked as one dive bombed me. I fired at the second, it's body crashing into the ground behind me.

I looked back to see the Pip was slowing down. Slowing down, I turned back to help her.

“Aw, screw this!” Calamity skidded to a halt, rearing around, and opened fire. The shot ripped the fealtherless wing off one of the zombies, causing it to crash into another. The two tumbled out of the sky, splashing gorily into the half-buried metal skeleton of a huge wagon.. 

As I moved closer to Pip, Calamity launched himself into the air. 

“Don’t slow down! Not fer an instant!” he cried out as he dodged another flying zombie-pony, kicking his saddle to reload.

Velvet was ahead of us, my legs were starting to burn, but I Kept going. I grabbed hold of Pip and pulled her along with me. We followed Velvet behind a passenger wagon, the herd right on our asses. 

I could hear Calamity taking shots, but they did nothing to stop the hoard. They were getting closer, and Pip was looking to well. I was about to pic her up when I saw her horn glow and before I knew it, the wagon was consumed in a explosion.

I felt myself lifted into the air, before coming onto the ground hard.

"Fuck! Oh my god, that hurt!"

I struggled to my feet, Pip doing the same. The hoard had scattered, but not for long.

We kept moving, coming across some vehicles painted a mottled light blue and grey with tiny splashes of white. Beyond that, the valley spread out into rolling, rocky hills that offered no cover at all.

We reached it as more zombie-ponies overflew us, landing just yards away. Velvet Remedy lowered her horn, charging at them, and skewered one messily, unable to hold back an “Eeeew!” that I empathized with completely. I aimed my pistol in one hand, and grabbed a nearby plank of wood with the other.

I shot down two, and stabbed a third right through the eye.

I heard the faint sound of something powering up. turning around, my eyes widened as Pip activated what looked like a turret.

I was all grins. “Let 'er rip!"



“Celestia watch you and keep you safe,
As you travel down the path you choose.
May Luna be with you and keep you strong,
So your courage you will never lose.
Remain loyal, honest and brave,
Forget not the ones that you save
And in our hearts you will do no wrong...”

Velvet's tune wove between humming and lyrics. It was soothing I almost nodded off. The others found her music to be uplifting in the wasteland, although Calamity's eye-rolling suggested he wished she would stop trying to make it perfect. 

It had been several hours since the zombies and the valley was safely behind us. Sky grew darker but according to Calamity, it was just nightfall.

It had been a few hours since our encounter with the zombie ponies. I was glad none of us had been bitten. It was a hell of a sight to see those zombies get torn apart by the turret.

“Oh my!” Velvet gasped as we came across gigantic billboard. 

The image, amazingly un-faded yet marred with the grime and water damage of centuries, was the giant face of an unbearably pink pony. She was smiling, her eyes seeming to follow us.

God that smiled creeped me the hell out. I stared as we moved closer, trying to imagine it before so many years had worn it down before it became...

“...Luna-damned. Fucking. Creepy!”

Thanks Pip.

“Hello, Casey and Littlepip!”

I grabbed Pip before she could run off. Turns out Watcher thought sneaking up was a good idea. I held her tight until she calmed down.

“You are so lucky I can’t telekinetically hurl rocks at you right now!”

"Guys...?” Calamity asked, his wings in a defensive stance. 

Pip ignored him, “Watcher, are they safe?”

The sprite-bot bobbed. “Yes. Wagons are on their way. Although Ditzy Doo might now be under the impression that you can hack sprite-bots and send messages through them. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Ah don’ trust that thing!”

It was good to know that Watcher had alerted someone about the ponies on the train. Though, I still didn't know if we could trust him, even if he had helped us.

“You sent us into that raider pit knowing what we'd find in there, didn’t you?”

Calamity broke off staring at the strangely-behaving bot, looking to me. We never did tell him why we went to the library.

“They needed help.”

“You could have told us the truth!” Pip snapped.

“Hey, I didn’t exactly know you two, now did I? You two seemed like good individuals who would do the right thing once you saw it for yourselves, but...”

I clenched my fists. “You nearly got us killed!”

“I'm sorry!” The voice sounded pissed. “I told you two that I didn’t mean you harm. And I didn’t. I told you that you would find something you needed to survive in there...” The sprite-bot flew close. “And I’d say you found more valuable things in there than just a book. Wouldn’t you agree?”

I didn't want to admit it, but Watcher was right. We met Ditzy Doo and I could make an argument that my friendship with Calamity started from what happened back there. Also, I could say our relationship with the New Appleloosans, and our ability to save more ponies, stemmed from what Watcher did.

I could tell Pip still wanted to knock the floating bot out of the air.

Velvet Remedy spoke up. “Casey, Littlepip, what is he talking about?”

We decided to tell them everything.

“Whoops! Almost out of time...” Watcher warned as I finished up my part of the tale. Calamity was still giving the floating the stink eye. 

Pip looked up at the bot. “Watcher, you seem to know a lot about things...”

“Well, yeah.”

“What were the Ministries?” 

Watcher was silent for a while. It almost seemed as if he was deep in thought. “Remember when I told you two that you should search for your virtue? And I told you about the greatest heroes of Equestria?”

We nodded. “You mentioned them, yes.”

“Well...” Watcher sounded as if he was reliving a painful memory. “The Massacre at Littlehorn broke Princess Celestia’s heart. After that, nearly midway through the war, Princess Celestia decided She wasn’t the right pony to lead Equestria anymore. So She stepped down, abdicated Her position to Her sister, Princess Luna...”

I could only imagine of Celestia must've felt about her subjects dying.

“The war had been devastating, both abroad and at home. Equestria was in severe distress, suffering from troubles within as well as from the enemy armies. You can’t imagine what it was like back then."

“Those heroes I told you about? They were six amazing ponies with true hearts and virtuous souls, whose friendship held the power to change the world. Princess Celestia had always been like a mother to them. She saw them, one in particular, as Her children. She loved them and wanted to protect them. So Princess Celestia shielded them from the worst of the war, finding quests for them that kept them, mostly, out of harm’s reach, or at least away from the battlefields. Sending them on diplomatic missions to the griffins and the buffalo -- things like that. 

“Princess Luna met them for the first time in a much different circumstance. Princess Luna respected them and saw them as Her equals. And, I really think, as Her saviors. And so when Princess Luna ascended to rule Equestria and fight the war, She called Equestria’s most valuable heroes to serve as Her personal advisors. She called for the creation of new offices of government, one under each of them, whose job would be to take their advice and find ways to implement it.”

“And those were the Ministries?”

“Yes.”

I looked around once beautiful nation that was now a rotting graveyard. “I guess it didn't work out in the end.”

"Have you ever heard the old saying ‘The portal to hell is opened with the incantation of good intentions’? If there was a moral to their story, I guess that would be it.” 



It was getting dark as we approached the barn.  but smoke curled up from the smokestack and there was a welcoming glow in several of the windows, as well as light seeping through the cracks around the silo doors. It was just the three of us again, Watcher having vanished with a pop, replaced by tinny, patriotic music. Calamity had kept an eye on the bot until it floated away.

A raven fluttered down, perching on the first of what looked like a row of three planks sticking out of the ground near the edge of a barren pasture. The last plank was smaller and crooked. The last fellows standing of a fence, I guessed. 

Quickly but carefully, we moved down the rocky hillside and through the stone-strewn fields to reach the house. We needed a place to sleep, eat, and recover. The house seemed like a lucky break, assuming the ponies inside didn’t shoot us for trespassing.  

A creaky windmill squeaked as we passed.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Pip spoke up.

Velvet Remedy marched past me. “Really, Littlepip, you shouldn’t sound so jaded...” She was raising a hoof to knock when the door swung open, bathing us in warm light.

I moved my hand to my gun in case things went south.

It was a young pink pony, like really young. Her forehead was scarred, like she’d recently fallen over a ladder and scraped herself. She didn't have a horn or wings so she was an earth pony. She stood a head shorter than Pip, and didn't have a cutie mark. 

Wait...

I took a closer look at her fur and realized she was covered in paint!

The other noticed it too, and they did seem at ease.

“Hello, dear,” Velvet began. “Is your mother...”

“OH MY GOSH!” The filly jumped up, squealing in delight. Then just as quickly she brought a hoof to her mouth, gasping as if in horror. At first I thought it was because I wasn't a pony, but that didn't seem to bother her.

“Oh no! You’re too late! I waited for you all day, but now we’re closed!” Tears welled up in her wide eyes.

Velvet Remedy took a step back. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry, young one, but we’re not...”

The look of horror dissipated instantly, replaced by a wide grin. “Of course you’re not! As if we ever close!” She giggled exuberantly. She ran out of the house, dashing past us, then spun with a suddenly somber expression. “You really should hurry though. Nasty things haunt these fields at night!” With that ominous proclamation, she squealed with glee and ran towards the silo.

We looked at each other. I was confused. Calamity simply shrugged and started trotting after the young, pink girl. 

As we reached the silo, Velvet called out, “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we didn’t get your name?”

“OH!” The pink filly jumped. “Hee! Of course! Sorry! I’m just so excited! You’re the first visitors I’ve had to the museum in... oh ages!” Giggling again, “Oh, I’m Pinkie Bell!”

“Museum?” I asked with a perplexed look. 

Pinkie Bell braced herself and pushed open the silo door. The inside of the silo looked like a party had exploded inside it. Not in a good way -- more like a party had ingested a grenade, and the room was now splattered with party-gore and party-entrails. 

“Welcome to the Pinkie Pie Museum!!” The girl was practically bouncing. “This here is the number one museum of all things Pinkie Pie in all of Equestria!”

Calamity was shaking his head, but there was a relieved smile on his face. Velvet Remedy gave Calamity a smirk and he rolled his eyes in return. This was weird, no doubt about it. But: no slaver, no raiders, no horrible monsters -- a descent into the slightly bizarre was almost a welcome change.

Pinkie Bell didn’t let up, didn’t even stop for breath. “And what do you know, you’re just in time for the tour! Now where’s our tour guide? She better not be sleeping again... oh wait! It’s ME!”

The “museum” was a single huge room. There wasn’t much to tour. But Pinkie Bell made a point to stop and show off one item after another, most of them adorned with saggy balloons or vomited all over with confetti. 

“... and they danced and danced all day and all night! And best of all this is the very silo where Pinkie Pie, as a young filly, invented the first party ever and got her Cutie Mark!” 

I tried to ask Pinkie Bell questions about the museum and herself but she ignored me.

“During the first years of the war, Pinkie Pie traveled all over, throwing parties for Equestrian troops about to head into battle! Bringing them a taste of their homeland, and more importantly, bringing them cheer and putting smiles on their faces!” Pinkie Bell waved her arms at several easels with framed photographs of Pinkie Pie, dressed in frills and fishnets, dancing on stage in front of nearly a thousand ponies. “That is, when she wasn’t on super secret missions for Princess Celestia!”

“She looks a lot smaller in person,” Pip commented.

"Thank God," I replied. "I'd be down right terrified if I saw a pink, grinning pony the size of a billboard."

“Pinkie Pie’s only regret was that she couldn’t be everywhere helping all the troops all the time! (Although with Dash, she could come pretty close!) So of course...”

Calamity raised a hoof. “Dash her friend or Dash the drug?” Pinkie Bell once again ignored the questions.

Prancing towards a familiar poster, Pinkie Bell rambled on, unstoppable. “...when Princess Luna offered to give Pinkie Pie a whole Ministry of her very own to do whatever she wanted to with it, she pounced on the chance! And the Ministry of Morale was born!”

It was the PINKIE PIE IS WATCHING YOU FOREVER poster, this one intact. The elderly pink mare was smiling mischeviously, as if she’d just played a wonderful prank. And with the whole face visible, I swore I caught a curious look in her eyes. I no longer felt guilty with the poster staring at me; now I felt uncomfortably exposed. 

It felt like she was looking into my soul, going through my life like a slide show. My skin itched just thinking about it.

A practiced twirl took Pinkie Bell to a table covered in a chemistry set and several...samples. “Pinkie Pie was always really great at cooking things. And when Princess Luna (boo) declared that the drugs that were flooding Equestria from zebra lands were harmful to the people, Pinkie Pie decided to prove that they could be good, a fun addition to any party! Working day and night, Pinkie Pie concocted a mixture of Mint-als and some of her favorite things, creating... dun DUN DUN! Party Time Mint-als!!” Pinkie Bell lifted up a tin, showing them off. 

I noticed Pip staring at tin and made a mental note to keep a close eye on her.

“...by that time the Ministry of Morale had transformed Pinkie Pie into an iconic figure who transcended the boundaries of one pony to become a mystical figure that easily stood alongside Princess Celestia and Princess Luna Themselves!”

That was dramatic.

“Little colts and fillies knew that Pinkie Pie was always watching them. She saw everything they ever did. And if they were good little colts and fillies, who were nice and friendly, who did their chores and smiled and laughed and never spread seditious lies, then on their birthdays, Pinkie would bring them a wonderful party!” Pinkie Bell waved a hoof in warning, “But if they were bad little colts and fillies, Pinkie Pie would bring them a rock!”

"What the...?" I muttered. Was this the story of Pony Claus?

Meanwhile, Pinkie Bell had stopped. Her eyes went wide, and she sucked in a huge breath. And waited. One second, two, three, four... Finally, Pinkie Bell let out the breath with a disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry. I thought I felt an impromptu musical number coming on.”

I felt the need to turn and run.

“Anyway, what was I saying... oh yea, how Pinkie Pie brings parties!”

Velvet turned back to the little filly, a little startled. “Brings? Dear, you do know that Pinkie Pie is dead, don’t you?”

Pinkie Bell didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, she’s physically dead! But her spirit lives on inside all of us!”

I watched Velvet Remedy’s eyebrows raise. And then she snickered, seeming to accept that on a level I just couldn’t. While Pip facehoofed and I looked away uncomfortable, I heard Velvet whisper. “I think Pinkie Pie’s spirit has a stalker.”

I managed to miss most of the rest of the “tour” because I keeping a close eye on Pip as she kept glancing at the Mint-als. It brought back deep personal memories of my life.  Thankfully we were drawn back when Pinkie Bell announced that she had something to ask of us. 

“It turns out, I have the only copy of the recipe for Party-Time Mint-als!...” Oh, I hoped not. Pip looked very excited and I was ready to drag her out kicking and screaming.

“...And I’d be willing to share it with you if you can bring me the one piece of my Pinkie Pie Museum collection that I’m missing! A limited edition Pinkie Pie magical statuette! Bring it here, and I’ll throw the party to end all parties!” 



“I shouldn’t have made fun,” Velvet Remedy was saying as she trotted nervously about the cramped upstairs bedroom that Pinkie Bell had absolutely insisted we stay in for the night. 

When Pinkie Bell explained that a few sets of very special magical figurines had been crafted of each of the Ministry Mares, my mind had immediately gone to the orange pony statuette with the three apples on her flank. Finding another one like that, one specifically of Pinkie Pie, could be virtually impossible. Pinkie Bell insisted that the statuettes would have survived even the apocalypse. 

Calamity sat on the bed, one ear to the wall as he watched Velvet fret.

“That poor filly. She’s so terribly sad.”

Calamity whinnied. “Sad? Were ya listenin’ t’ the same little pink-painted ball o’ Dash tha’ I was?” Then remembering his own earlier confusion, he clarified, “The drug.”

Velvet Remedy stopped. “Oh yes. And that poor girl is not happy. Not at all.” She hung her head. “She’s full of pain. Something horrible must have happened to her.”

"Whatever it was, it did more than just change her appearance," I spoke up. "It mostly likely change her entire way of thinking."

Suddnenly Calamity jumped to his hooves. “She’s gone. An’ if ya don’t want somethin’ horrible t’ happen t’ us, Ah suggest we be leavin’ too.” 

"I second that," I added following him to the door, but when it tried to open it, it wouldn't budge.

It was locked.

“Maybe she’s just trying to us safe from the ‘nasty things’ that haunt the fields at night?” Pip suggested.

I turned around, giving her a deadpan stare. "Yeah. That's exactly what it is."

Velvet Remedy had pushed past me to try the door herself. Now she whinnied, “Doesn’t matter. We’re leaving. I will not be locked in a cage.”

I joined Calamity as he looked out the window. I saw nothing. Just the night. Then, a crack of dimly pulsing, colored light appeared as Pinkie Bell pushed open the door of the barn just enough to slide through, then pushed it shut behind her. 

Calamity waited, quiet and still, until the door of the farmhouse opened, casting a rectangle of light across the ground with a Pinkie Bell shape cut out of it. The moment the door closed, he turned and bucked at the window.

The crash was terribly loud.

The escape would have been treacherous, if not impossible, without a pegasus pony to fly us down. We started across the farm, crouching low, keeping to the deeper shadows in the darkness. We were creeping alongside the barn when I noticed Pip slip into the barn.

Oh, shit.

"What are you doing?" I asked, blocking her.

Pip looked nervous, "I-I'm not sure. I wanted to check out what that glow was."

Bullshit. But I couldn't deny, that had peeked my curiosity too. I knew I was going to regret this.

I sighed. "Alright, but I'm going with you."



"What the hell is this?"

It was small, geometrically shaped with surfaces that seemed to twist through each other. The whole thing was the size of a bushel of apples, and swirled with sickly mesmerizing colors. 

I saw Pip moved closer to it as if in a trance so I pulled her away from the thing. It was then that we found a safe. The rest of the barn was almost completely barren. We slipped over to it and Pip began to work.

The safe popped open with a whisper.

Inside was the one thing I hope she wouldn't see: the Party-Time Mint-al recipe.

As Pip starred at the recipe, I noticed a recorder with a single imprinted message. Pip copied it into her PipBuck, and as soon as she did, I closed the safe.

"What are you doing?" She hissed in alarm.

"You're not getting that recipe Pip."

She tried to use her magic to open the door, but I held my grip, causing the magic to dissipate. 

"Fine," She grumbled before turning back to her PipBuck. "I'll take a look at this instead." She pressed a button.

I was not expecting what came next.

“Peartree,

“The raiders came back yesterday. They didn’t take kindly to daddy running them off last week with his shotgun, so this time they came in force. Mama made us hide in the upstairs bedroom and cast a spell over us to keep us from being seen. She made us promise to be quiet and still. But Silver Bell...  

“My little sister has always been able to make beautiful music, like the tinkling of dozens of magical bells. We all adore it. But Silver Bell, sometimes when she’s frightened or worried, the spell happens all on its own. She didn’t mean to. It was an accident.

“The raiders killed mama and daddy. They killed them really slow and brutal. And they made us watch. It was...

“I buried them out by the end of the east field. Put up a couple planks as tombstones. I hate that they won’t last long, but I can’t carve their names into rocks. And mama and daddy deserve to have their names over their graves.

“Silver Bell has nightmares every night. Honestly, I do most nights too. And during the days she just curls up silent-like. Never crying. Never smiling. I can’t even get her to eat. I don’t know what to do.

“I’m going to try taking her to Tenpony Tower. I’ve heard there’s a buck up there who takes in orphans. It’s a long walk, and so I’m headed up to gather provisions from the neighbors. If I’m not back when you get here, please load up the wagon. I know I can’t ask you to come with us; you have your own folks to take care of. But I would really appreciate it if you could hang around so I could say goodbye. 

“You’re the best buckfriend I could have asked for. 

“Love, Memory.”

We stood there, stunned. Oh God...

“You shouldn’t have listened to that!” We turned to see Pinkie Bell (...no, Silver Bell!) staring right at us. “It’s. Not. Yours.”

This close, I got a much better look at that scar. Horrible realization hit me like ice water. Silver Bell was a unicorn. She’d cut off her own horn!

I let go of the door in surprise, letting it swing open. Unfortunately, Pip stumbled into it.

“You want it so much? Keep it!” She moved toward the safe, but I stood in her way, ready for a fight.

From behind her, Velvet Remedy’s voice broke the air. “You’re not like Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie/Silver Bell froze. Then slowly turned away from me. I helped Pip out as the others talked.

“You’re nothing like Pinkie Pie,” Velvet Remedy spoke slowly, calmly. Her voice wasn’t accusing now. It was mostly sad. “You are, if anything, the opposite of Pinkie Pie.”

I watched the filly in front of me shake. Emotions seemed to rush through her as if they didn’t want to stay or were eager to get out of the way so the next emotion could take hold.

“You don’t bring happiness. When I look at you, all I feel is sad,” Velvet continued, her voice giving gentleness to her words. “If Pinkie Pie were to meet you, she wouldn’t throw a party...” 

“Yes she would!”

Velvet paused only a moment, “Maybe she would, but she wouldn’t throw a party because she wanted to have fun with you. She would throw a party because she wanted to help you. Because you would make her very sad.”

“W-w-what do y-you know!?”

“I know that laughter, real laughter, isn’t forced. It isn’t something you paint on to hide how you are truly feeling.” Velvet Remedy walked slowly towards the filly, who was trapped between flying into a rage and breaking down in tears. “I know that you are very badly hurt inside. And it’s not the sort of hurt that can be fixed with a party. Or healed by my horn.”

By the time Velvet Remedy had reached the filly, Pinkie/Silver Bell was shaking badly.

“What happened to your parents wasn’t your fault. What happened to your sister wasn’t your fault...”

To her sister? Suddenly, I remembered the three planks in the field. The last one crooked, like it was planted by someone smaller and younger who didn’t manage so well. My heart broke.

“YES! IT! WAS!” And with that, Silver Bell collapsed into wretched sobs. I could only watch as Velvet Remedy wrapped her head and a leg around the filly, giving her a mane to cry into.