Various stories by various authors all centered around the lives of wasteland ponies.
This is a group project that is open and ongoing! If interested in writing your own chapter, you can find the prompt and rules here!
The Equestrian wasteland is a mixed bag to say the least. Many ponies will shoot you for your caps or your hide just as soon as look at you. Best friends or family will fight to the death over the last can of beans or final few drops of dirty water. But there are others, too, who still know words like sharing and kindness, who struggle to do good in a world gone bad.
These are all of their stories. The good and the bad. The stories of the Wastelanders.
Fallout Equestria logo made by the amazing artwork-tee. Wastelanders edit by me.
Title: Scars Author: Salted Pingas Content Warning: Sexual language “I got that beat. That’s a moray eel. Bit right through my wetsuit...”
Darkness fell like a starving beast upon the carcass of the equestrian wasteland, its wide maw snapping tight as it snuffed out the light of the world. Crickets the size of pre-war rabbits began their quiet symphonies in the thorny underbrush, their bulbous bodies filled with bitter acid to deter predators. Balefireflies flashed brief and bright in the darkness; to wander near them was a certain and painful death.
Creatures far larger than these roamed about with jagged teeth and glistening fangs, tasting the air for the faintest hint of prey. Their calls and cries as they hunted or were hunted played a haunting ensemble, not to be outperformed by the crickets.
A spark flickered in glittering eyes, not the sickly green flash of a balefirefly seeking a mate, this was something else. Again the spark flashed in the night, then again and a dull glow dredged an island of light up from the sea of darkness.
The old unicorn tucked his flint and steel into a vest pocket, leaning in low to breathe life into his little fire. He added dry leaves and sticks he’d collected, snapping the larger ones in half until he was able to add the first of many larger pieces of firewood. Dancing embers lit the air and the firewood began to burn, the fire crackling contentedly as it enjoyed its fibrous meal.
As it had been since before ponies had invented language and as it would be long after they’d all died out, the fire had an immediate effect on the wild beasts of the wasteland. The glittering eyes and snuffling snouts turned away from the site of the flames. Their simple minds and instincts learned from ancestors long extinct told them to fear the flames of the campfire, that whatever prey lurked there was not worth the bite of the fire it had mastered.
At least, every pair of eyes in the darkness but one. These bright eyes narrowed at the sight of the flames, their owner prowling low as he approached on quiet hooves.
The old buck settled down atop a bedroll that was more patchwork than original cloth, grunting with age as his joints popped. A chunk of manticore jerky floated out of his saddlebags, a sharp knife cutting off little strips which he masticated slowly with an uneven number of teeth. His eyes lazily followed the rise and fall of flickering embers that leapt from the fire.
Quiet hooves carried their owner closer and closer to the fire, unheard and unseen in the black of the night. The other reached the bottom of the short hill the old buck had made his fire atop of and the other’s eyes scoured the earth for traps. Light hooves tested the earth, feeling for tripwires or pressure plates.
“Hello there!”
The bright eyes lifted, widening with alarm as they beheld the old buck, risen from his sleeping bag with his magic illuminating a surprisingly well-kept assault carbine. The weapon was held casually, the barrel pointed to the dirt, but it wouldn’t take much to lift it and open fire.
“I can see you down there!” The old buck seemed to peer straight through the impenetrable darkness, finding the wide eyes and their owner standing stock still below, “You can come on up or move on out, doesn’t matter to me which, just don’t keep standin’ there like a mysterious stranger.”
The bright eyes in the darkness looked around briefly as their owner considered his options. After a moment they settled back on the dirt.
“Any traps?” The voice of a young buck called from the dark base of the hill.
“Uh, what was that, now?” The old buck cocked his ears towards the young buck, frowning.
“I asked if there are any traps along the way?” The young buck lent some volume to his voice.
“Oh, nah, fire’s usually more’n enough,” the old buck waved a hoof, then gave his weapon a little wiggle, “And when it’s not, I’ve got ol’ Trusty Two-Step here to keep me safe.” The words were a statement of fact, not a threat, but they still made the young buck uneasy as he stood in the darkness below, “You comin’ up, then? Plenty o’ room ‘round the fire,” the old buck prompted.
“Yeah, all right!” The young buck called up, “You won’t shoot me, will ya?”
“I’d’ve shot already if I thought you were a threat,” the old buck replied with a clever smile, “Just don’t have no weapons drawn.”
“I don’t!” The young buck was still careful as he made his way up, worried eyes scanning the dark earth for any signs of trouble.
He made it up the hill and into the fire’s dancing light with all limbs still attached, stopping a few paces before the old buck. He couldn’t help but kick himself when he saw the PipBuck half hidden by the old buck’s long shirt sleeve. Of course he’d been spotted!
“What, thought I could see in the dark, did ya? Nah,” The old buck chuckled, catching the young buck’s look, “Go on, get comfy, ain’t gonna bite,” the old buck waved a hoof to the side of the fire opposite where his gear was laid out.
“You from a stable, then?” The young buck asked. He dropped his saddlebags, his mouth undoing the straps. The old buck settled down on his side of the fire, watching carefully as the young buck unslung his long-barreled shotgun and placed it atop his saddlebags where the dirt wouldn’t get into it.
“I was born in the wastes, same as you, I reckon,” the old buck spoke up as the young buck unrolled a bedroll of his own and settled down, “Nah, I got this off a stable dweller. He didn’t need it anymore.” The old buck leaned his rifle against his own saddlebags, holding up his PipBuck’d foreleg for emphasis.
“I can’t imagine someone just giving up a PipBuck,” the young buck raised one brow.
“The dead want for nothing,” the old buck countered cleverly, “plus, it hides the scar the bastard gave me.” The old buck thought for a moment, “he shot first, if that matters to you.”
The young buck shrugged.
“Well,” the old buck changed the subject, cutting off a thin strip of manticore jerky and working it with his back teeth, “my fire, my rules.” He indicated the flames with his hoof, a small burst of sparks shooting up as the firewood shifted.
The young buck nodded.
“This side’s mine,” the old buck patted the ground, “that side’s yours. Anypony else comes wanderin’ up looking for a spot to rest their tired hooves, they get to share your side.” Again he patted the ground, “this side’s mine.”
The young buck frowned, but nodded again.
“Don’t go grabbing for your gun unless I say so,” the old buck pointed a hoof to the young buck’s shotgun, “Most times fire keeps bad folks away, but I’ve had nosy raiders and hungry bandits come strollin’ up lookin’ for trouble before. If’n we do get unwelcome company we gotta put down’n send off to sweet Celestia, I don’t want to see nothin’ but your hindquarters facin’ me. Don’t be turning around towards me with that big old scattergun you got there. Got a couple scars from negligent discharges in my own, fine posterior, and I ain’t lookin’ to get more,” he jabbed a hoof back towards his backside.
“I’m safe with my shotgun,” the young buck stated.
“And I’d love to take every pony at their word, but life just ain’t so,” The old buck didn’t relent, “My fire, my rules,” he reiterated.
“You any good with that thing, then?” The young buck jerked his head towards the assault carbine.
“Ol’ Trusty Two-Step?” The old buck turned a smile to the weapon, “Ain’t one pony so far that’s made it more’n two steps after I get my sights on them.” He turned back to the young buck, “Why she’s got the name, if you were wonderin’.”
The young buck shrugged.
“Your big ol’ scattergun got a name?” The old buck asked, chewing thoughtfully on another thin strip of jerky.
The young buck glanced at the shotgun, turning back and opening his mouth to answer. Then he shut it a moment before smiling, “Nine-thirty.”
The old buck raised a querying brow as he chewed his jerky.
“Because it’s a Hoofberg Model 930,” the young buck maintained his clever smile.
“Hardy har,” the old buck rolled his eyes.
“Tool’s just a tool,” the young buck shrugged, letting his smile fade away, “No reason to get sentimental over a tool.”
“If you say so,” the old buck favored the young buck with a strange smile before getting back on topic, “But those two’re the rules of my fire.” He sliced off a slightly larger strip of the jerky, offering it over the campfire in his magic, “Sound good to you?”
The young buck eyed the offering with a flash of dull hunger that plagued all but the wealthiest of wastelanders. He gave a quick nod and took the offering in his maw, using his forehooves to hold the strip of jerky in place while he tore a piece off with his teeth.
“What brings you ‘round these parts?” The old buck grunted as he shifted atop his sleeping bag.
“Hunting,” the young buck replied, focusing on his food. He jerked his head to his saddlebags, “Nothing yet.”
“Coming from the west?”
“Ish,” the young buck allowed.
“About, oh, five or so miles nor’east of here there’s a little spring flowin’ up from the ground.” The young buck’s ears perked up, though his focus was still on his food, “Source is tainted, not good for drinking unless you don’t mind losing your jaw, but I saw sign of radhogs rootin’ about. Ground all torn up for tubers.”
Now he had the young buck’s full attention.
“You got a map or anythin’?” The old buck continued, getting a nod past a chunk of jerky.
The young buck rooted around in his saddlebags for a moment, the old buck taking the offered map and laying it out beside him away from the flames. With a couple of grunts and grumbles he turned to it, pulling back his sleeve and using his magic to work his PipBuck. He made a couple of marks on the paper with a rod of charcoal then passed the map back around the flames.
“Circle’s where the spring is, the X marks where we are right now,” the old buck explained as the young buck eyed the marks.
“Thanks!” There was actual sincerity in the young buck’s voice as he rolled up the map and tucked it away.
“Aw, don’t mention it,” the old buck waved a hoof, “Didn’t cost me nothin’.”
The fire crackled for some time.
“So a stable dweller just attacked you?” The young buck asked, the manticore jerky dissolving in his stomach.
“More or less,” the old buck began, rolling into a more comfortable position on his back and regarding the dark sky sagely, “Not sure he really meant to, I sorta just rolled up on him out in the wastes. Lookin’ back, poor fella was probably fresh out of the stable and lost as a newborn foal. Still had his jumpsuit’n everythin’, though it was all torn up from a scuffle.” He frowned, “The number on it was twenty-four I think, don’t recall for sure.
“But anyways, yeah, poor fella up and voided himself the second he saw me, let off with a pistol like there was no tomorrow. Lucky for me he wasn’t using S.A.T.S.—or at least he wasn’t any good with it—and all but one of the rounds went wide. Brought up old Two-Step and ‘pow!’ ‘pow!’” he lifted one of his forehooves to the sky, jerking it with each report, “Down he went.
“I was rightly miffed at the time, nearly cost me the lower leg and I don’t think the bone ever did mend quite right. Surgery to remove the bullet left some nasty scars,” he eyed the leg in question, the PipBuck’s glowing screen waving back and forth across his uncertain face, “But I do sometimes wonder if he’d’ve come to his senses after he ran dry. Road not travelled, I suppose.” The leg settled back behind his head.
“The road not travelled…” the young buck said, voice hitching on something. The old buck shifted, peering across the flames, watching as the young buck built up his nerves to speak.
“I killed a filly once,” when he spoke, the young buck’s voice was somber. The old buck sat up a bit, still lending his eyes as the young buck pulled back his shirt, showing off a thin scar on his neck, “I wasn’t much older than her, maybe ten or so, almost a stallion.” He paused a moment, watching the fire, “I was up and about at night, just pulled into Ramshackle Row for supplies and all I see is a figure against the black come out from an alley. She stuck a shiv in me and I blew her head off.” He tossed a quick glance to the old buck, a mixture of shame and guilt on his face, “I carried around a little sawed-off at the time, kept it in a chest holster and boy was I fast with it…” He trailed off for a moment, then finished, “I still see her little face frozen in the muzzle flash.”
“Sorry you had to do that,” the old buck offered his condolences.
“Thanks,” the young buck wiped his nose.
“I’ve got a scar on the top of my head,” the old buck started suddenly, earning a curious look from the young buck. He grunted and grumbled as he got to his old hooves, leaning his head forwards and pulling his mane aside to show a long, thin scar at the roots, “Always used to tell mares I got it in a knife fight with a griffon or a big old earth pony, even said it was an Enclave soldier come down from the clouds once.” He gave a nostalgic chuckle, shaking his head at a memory, “Even worked a few times.”
“How’d you really get it?” The young buck felt prompted to ask.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure,” the young buck shrugged.
“I take that as a promise now, I’ll have to hunt you down and defend my honor if you go and tell anyone,” his smile told the young buck how serious he was about the threat, “I was, oh, let’s just say I’d just become a stallion, young and stupid to think I knew all there was worth knowin’.” The old buck smiled fondly, “Not sure how I managed it, probably with some booze or maybe she was in heat, but I got this mare into bed. When I went to mount up—come to think of it, it was probably booze—well anyways, let’s just say that my aim was off an inch or two. I missed my mark and she up and bucked me straight off the bed and into a table.
“When I came to I was throbbin’ up here,” he pointed to his head, “and throbbin’ down there,” he pointed to his crotch, “and she was all hollerin’ at me. And, of course, me being a young buck not knowing how to properly please a lady; I’m just layin’ there wondering what in all of Equestria I’d done wrong! Anywho, bumped the head pretty hard on this little table, s’how I really got the scar.”
The young buck couldn’t help but snicker at the story, shaking his head at the unfortunate conclusion.
“I’ve got that beat...” the young buck said with a sudden smile. He got up and turned around, pulling up his shirt and dropping his pants to show a series of small scars on his rump, “I once sat on a nest of rat scorpions.”
“How’d you manage that?” The old buck chuckled.
“Not looking where I was sitting,” the young buck turned an embarrassed look away as he pulled his pants back up, “I was just a colt at the time and I ran like a hellhound had swiped at me. A couple of the little things had latched on with their claws and were stinging the ever living shit out of me. My mom managed to get them off with some pliers but they took a good few chunks out of me and my ass swelled up like a rattlemelon.
“Of course, that’s not the worst part, rat scorpions aren’t nearly venomous enough to kill a colt. No, my mom’s the village teacher and she taught at our home so there was no chance I was getting out of lessons,” the old buck chuckled, seeing where the story was going, “So there I am, with my butt swollen up and tears streaking my face, in class with all the rest of the fillies and colts. It didn’t matter that I was seated in the back, mom had to call the day’s lesson short because they wouldn’t stop making fun of me.
“Goddesses, it was horrible at the time, and I had a rash for weeks, but I can’t help but look back at it now and laugh,” he beamed out a nostalgic smile.
“You get some dumb nickname after that like ‘venom-ass’ or something?” The old buck chuckled.
The young buck laughed at that, “No, but that’s a good one. We were all just dumb kids at the time and only a few folks remember that now anyways.”
“Well, Venom Ass,” the old buck chuckled again at the name, getting a pair of gamely rolled eyes, “I’m probably gonna hit the hay. I’ve been told I snore, so I hope you’ve got earplugs.”
“I’m a heavy sleeper,” the young buck shrugged, then a smile spread across his face, “Mr. Wrong Hole.”
“Ooh, cheap shot at an old stallion,” the old buck laughed, settling down. He tossed another couple firelogs on the fire, sending a cascade of sparks up into the air, “PipBuck’s set to go off and wake me if anything nasty comes along, so rest easy.”
“That’s nifty,” the young buck commented, getting comfortable on his bedroll.
Title: A Surprise For Tea Author:Trooper “People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint – it’s more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly… time-y wimey… stuff.”- The 10th Doctor, Doctor Who
“You know, Ginger, I never did believe we would find this thing again,” the green zony with black stripes says to me.
I smile at him as I tell him, “I know, dear, but what really surprised me was that the bull that was to destroy it simply spun the control dials and cut the cables to the spark battery. But I guess that was enough to keep it from being used.”
Beside me, my half sister Epona snorts slightly and pushes her black mane from in front of her light tan, white freckled face. “You think you are surprised; how do you think I feel? I mean, I never thought I would get to go back to my home timeline.”
From slightly above me I hear, “Yeah, but Epona, who in their right mind would have expected it to be such a minor repair?” We all look up as we listen to the pure black pegasus, who is ironically named Sunny. Then he asks, “How much longer, Twinkles?”
I almost laugh as I see the pink unicorn mare blow a piece of her dark pink mane out of her face with an expression of frustration. She twists a few more dials, then writes down the settings in a notepad. Finally, she answers, “It should only be a few more minutes. Sorry, but I am only guessing at where the settings once were at this point."
“Take your time, Twinkle Hoofs. We do not want to rush this. Goddesses know where we might end up otherwise,” The owner of this voice is our team leader Choo Choo. She is a blue alicorn who used to be part of what she calls the goddess's alicorns. My fiancé Xochitl and I have known her since we were foals, before the former Co-op’s Expedition.
We first met Sunny on the same expedition and he is my second cousin through adoption. Twinkle Hooves is my best friend and has been since my school days.
Then I have to smile as I look over at the light green earth pony stallion with his yellow mane and tail that is our team's weapons tech. He is unusually quiet today, which has me worried so I ask, “Tater, you ok?”
I see him nod his head, “Yeah Ginger, I am fine. Sorry, just have a few things on my mind today.”
I watch as Epona goes over to him and puts a hoof on his shoulder and tells him, “It's alright, Tater. I understand how you feel, I am nervous about going back to that timeline too.”
I see him try to smile as he asks, “Is it that obvious?”
She nods her head, “Yes, it is, at least to me and Twinkles.”
I hear him sigh and he says, “Sorry, I just still remember what happened when we had to leave home Epona. Chain Lighting and Tail Spin have been great parents but I still miss my birth parents, too.”
She gives him a hug and tells him, “I do understand, I really do. Remember I had to get used to several ponies who were completely different from our side to this one.”
Tater smiles at this and laughs, “Yah, you're right. I really don’t think about how big a change it was for you too. I mean at least I did not have to adjust as much as you did. By the way, have you heard from your moms and dads lately?”
Epona smiles and tells him, “Yes, the Colonel is talking about retiring soon. But she is not ready yet. She has asked for me, Ginger and Xochitl to go with the rest of the family during her trade mission to Hoofington. She says they have tracked down papa Badger’s mother and are going to meet her while they are there.”
“That sounds interesting. I wonder what she will think of the size of his family?” Tater asks.
This time I answer him, “Tater, I am sure she will be amazed. First at how much he has changed since she last saw him, and secondly at the number of grandfoals he has given her.”
I hear Choo Choo snort and whiney a bit at that. Then she says, “He certainly is prolific,” then she turns towards the back of the railcar we are in and tells Twinkle Hooves, “Go ahead and begin to increase power, let us know when it is ready for us to go through.” She turns to the rest of us, “Okay it’s about time, saddle and gear up. I want all of you ready for a fight when we get to the other side. We go through as a team, remember, no pony left behind either.”
After she says this, the air vibrates inside the old railroad car with a loud humming sound. On the other end I can see what appears to be a doorway or mirror. In its center I see a pink cloud forming and begin to spin.
The doorway is completely covered inside by the swirling mist and I hear Twinkles call out, “It’s ready, Choo Choo.
Choo Choo looks from her to us and calls out above the noise, “Ok, locked and loaded, let’s do this my little ponies,” as she leads us to the doorway and we follow her into the mist.
___oOo___
As I step out of the mist the first thing I notice is that we are in a library. Goddesses how mama Magpie would love this place! I think to myself.
I look slightly to the side and notice a window framed with crystals set in a stone wall as well as a couple of tables and chairs set amongst the book shelves. There is a very peaceful feeling in here, as well as it being nice and warm. I then notice a very surprised looking lilac coated unicorn mare with a purple and teal mane and tail. She turns to look at us and I see her cutie mark of a purple and white star with two blue glimmering streams. Then she says, “Uh, you’re not Sunset Shimmer.”
Sunny from above laughs lightly with a hoof in front of his muzzle and says, “No, but I am Sunset Water.”
She looks from him, to me, then the others and finally her eyes go wide when she sees Choo Choo and I watch as she begins to kneel and I hear her say, “Princess, I am sorry I did not see you there.”
Choo Choo replies, “Please get up, I am not a princess.”
“But, but you’re an alicorn.” Starlight tells her.
Choo Choo nods her head and says, “That is true, but I was not born this way. And please, call me Choo Choo.”
Starlight nods her head and brushes her hoof across her face nervously and then says, “Oh, okay, Choo Choo,” Then she turns her head and when I follow her gaze, I see a short purple dragon with green spike ridges on his back and along his head. He also has a tannish belly. I have to smile at his surprised expression and the small wave he gives us.
“Spike, could you let Twilight know that we, uh, we have visitors?” She asks him.
“Uh, yeah sure Starlight, I know she was expecting Sunset, but who are these ponies?” he responds to her.
“Spike, I am not sure, but I am sure the princess will want to meet them.”
The members of our team begin to all look at each other in surprise and I look at Xochitl and asks, “Did she say princess?”
“Yes, I did say princess. You know, as in Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship.”
Choo Choo sits down hard and asks, “Don't you mean Twilight Sparkle as in the Ministry Mare?”
This time Starlight shakes her head and asks, “Who or what are the Ministry Mares?”
“They are the mares that ran Equestria for the Princesses during the Great War, you know before the final day and the megaspell and balefire bomb exchange,” Choo Choo says.
I see the unicorn mares’ eyes go wide and she asks excitedly, “What is a megaspell? Where can I learn how to cast them?”
About that time, I hear a new voice say, “That is a good question Starlight, but first, who are these ponies?”
This time I see Choo Choo look surprised as she asks, “Twilight Sparkle?”
I turn and see an alicorn that looks fairly similar to the painting of the old Ministry Mare of Arcane Science I once saw when we were at Tenpony Tower. The purple alicorn smiles and with a slight turn of her head asks “Yes, now who are you? I thought I knew all of the alicorns.”
Starlight Glimmer then interrupts briefly with, “Twilight, they came through the mirror.”
Twilight turns her head, then we all look back at what is obviously a very heavily modified mirror in which the center is still a swirling pink. I see her purse her lips and squint at it. “You did not come in through the Canterlot High portal, then?”
I shake my head as Choo Choo responds with, “Where? I never heard of that school when I lived in Canterlot.” Choo Choo then tells her, “Princess, we came through a portable portal. I know it is on a different timeline, but I have to ask, “How did the war with the Zebras end?”
I see a complete look of confusion on Twilight’s face as she asks, “War with the zebras? What war with the zebras?”
Then it dawns on me, we now are on a timeline line that never had it occur, but in that case, why is Starlight Glimmer still so young?
Then Choo Choo asks, “Princess, how long has Luna been the ruler?”
Twilight cocks her head back and asks, “What do you mean how long has she been the ruler? Celestia is the ruler, Luna only helps her. Besides she has only been back from the moon for a few years.”
Choo Choo looks dumbfounded and says, “Team, this time line seems to be either progressing at a slower rate, or we not only jumped timelines, but back in time. My Goddesses.”
Sunny slowly walks next to her, “Choo, are you sure?”
Choo Choo nods her head and says, “Yes, I am sure. I wondered what all those dials meant that Twinkle Hooves used.”
I turn my head back to her when I hear Twilight Sparkle say, “What? You mean your portal has dials to control it?”
Choo Choo nods her head and tells her, “Yes, I guess that is why we are able to come here instead of the doorway we were expecting to go through. Huh, I never expected that.”
“You never expected that? And you still came through? What did you expect?” I hear the purple alicorn ask in an excitable tone of voice.
Beside her I see the young dragon has appeared again. He taps her on the side and I hear him say, “Calm down, Twilight.”
Then I see him burp and to my astonishment a scroll comes out of his mouth. Beside me I hear Xochitl snicker some.
I catch myself shooting my future husband a dirty look and I then hear Twilight say, “If you have a bit of time, we have an additional guest coming who would like to meet you and to find out more about where you come from.”
I see Choo Choo look at Sunny and she tells him, “If you could, go back through the doorway and check on how Twinkle Hoofs is doing and to see if we have time. Then return and let me know.”
Sunny sketches her a rough salute and I watch as he flies back through what we now know is a portal.
After he departs Twilight introduces herself first to Choo Choo, then the rest of us. As she shakes our hooves, we each tell her our name. When she gets to me, she notices that I am wearing a PipBuck on my foreleg and she tilts her head and asks, “What is that you are wearing?”
I smile at her and I lift it and show her the display and I tell her, “Oh, this is called a PipBuck. It is a computer you can wear on your hoof that serves several functions. Everything from monitoring your health, communications, storing music files, keeping track of what you are carrying and it even helps in detecting hostile forces and assisting in targeting them with weapons.”
I see her eyes open wide at this, “Oh, sort of like the computers in the library on the human world I saw. A bit bigger than the phones they carry, though,” I see her purse her lips and rub her chin with a hoof, then she asks, “Do these have cameras, too?”
Choo Choo lifts her head at that and says, “No, they don’t have cameras, Princess,” She puts a hoof under her chin in thought and continues, “I am not sure how you could put a camera in a PipBuck or a phone even? Besides, we don’t have many stores of the chemicals for developing pictures from what I understand, so photos and cameras are not used much.”
“Hmmm, interesting. Well while we are waiting, why don’t we all sit down and have some tea.” Twilight says, and I see Spike and Starlight leave the room that is the library.
Epona and I turn to each other and smile deeply. We have always enjoyed sitting and having tea. We often share it back home with our mothers as well as our friends. Behind me I hear Sunny as he returns say, “Actually, do you have any Sparkle Cola?”
Again, I see a look of confusion on their faces as Twilight asks, “Uh, what is Sparkle Cola?”
I see Choo Choo laugh into her hoof and then she says, “Sunny, I guess that is a no. By the way I want my report on what is going on the other side.”
He stands straighter and replies, “Sorry Ma’am, Twinkle Hooves says everything is holding steady and should be ok for at least a couple of hours. She also says thank you for making sure that the railroad car was out from under the mountain when we started it. Finally, she sent me back with the team camera, she says it didn’t happen if no pictures.”
Choo Choo nods her head, “Anything else, Sunny?”
He laughs and says, “Yeah, I almost forgot. We checked my pipbuck and time passes here minutely slower. That would explain the time difference in years.”
I see the interest in Twilight Sparkle’s eyes and she says, “Now that is fascinating, I wonder why?” she pauses and then smiles as she says, “Sorry, I forgot my manners, please have a seat and get comfortable.”
We all remove our helmets and gear and put them in a pile next to our chairs. Soon we begin to chat a bit as Starlight Glimmer pours us tea and Spike first provides us all with some snacks then joins us.
Off to the right side I see Sunny sitting next to Tater. On my left I am seated next to Xochitl, with Epona on his far side and Choo Choo closest to Twilight.
Epona then politely asks, “Do you have any milk to go in the tea?”
Twilight scrunches up her face and asks, “Milk? Why would anypony put milk in their tea?”
I see Epona sigh a little, then she says, “Sorry Princess, back home in Manesville we tend to drink it with honey and milk. The milk is a hold over to our ancestors’ days in the Stable there. Ours was one of the rare ones that ponies shared with cattle.”
Again, a look of confusion on Princess Twilight's face as well as Spike and Starlight Glimmer’s, as Twilight asks, “What do you mean by Stables?”
I see Choo Choo take a deep breath, then she says, “Your highness, on our time line there was a great war between Equestria and the Zebra Nation. It became so large the other nations of Equus were pretty much forced to take sides. It lasted for over twenty years.”
I see a look of horror on those whose world we are visiting when they hear this. Quietly Starlight Glimmer asks, “How, how did it end?” then she closes her eyes and gulps.
I see Choo Choo start to have tears form in her eyes. She hesitates in answering, so Epona tells them, “It ended in less than one day. Equestria and the forces of the Zebra Caesar had an exchange of megaspells and balefire bombs. It destroyed most of Equestria and probably Equus as well. After the destruction of Cloudsdale the Grand Pegasus Enclave closed the skies, and for almost two hundred years, those below lived in near constant darkness. Most of those who survived were in the Stables.”
I see a look of both horror and confusion on their faces when she tells them this. Then Twilight asks, “So these Stables were some kind of shelter then?”
Epona nods her head and says, “Yes, they were underground shelters built by Stable-Tec.” I see her think for a bit, then she looks around the room and says, “Princess, I can see you are like one of my adopted mothers Magpie. You have a love of books and knowledge; I have a book with me that tells the story of one of the stable dwellers and her experiences. It also gives a bit of a history as to what happened on our side. Consider it a cautionary tale of what could have happened here in your world.”
I watch as she goes over and reaches into her saddlebag and carries the book to her in her muzzle. Once close enough Twilight looks at the cover and excitedly reads out loud, “The Book of Little Pip.”
I snap my head around and tell Epona, “Epona, you know you aren’t supposed to risk bringing that book to other timelines.”
“Why not? Tell me you don’t have a copy of the Book of Daisy Jo in your saddlebags, tell me!”
I can’t because she is right, instead I tell her, “That is different. You know it.”
“Oh, don’t get all high and mighty on me! Just because you and Ma both practice the cattle religion more than I do, Remember I am a goddess parent to both of Buttermilk's calves.”
From across the table I hear Starlight Glimmer say in a questioning tone, “Cattle religion? Ponies practicing it? A pony, a goddess parent to cattle?”
I turn and look at her and tell her, “Yes, the cattle religion worships both of the Goddesses Celestia and Luna as well as the all mother Sweet Cream.”
I see Starlight scrunch up her face, “Twilight did you know about a cattle religion?” Then I see a look of surprise on her face as she looks over my shoulder.
“I have never heard of it before, Starlight,” Twilight replies.
Then from the doorway I hear another voice. This one is very smooth and gentle and says, “I have, Twilight. A long time ago, but I will say I have never heard of any of my ponies following it.”
As I turn and look at the source of the voice my jaw drops open and I am full on gobsmacked. There before us stands Princes Celestia, accompanied by her sister. I have seen the pictures of them and the paintings, but I had not realized how beautiful they truly were, nor the size difference between the two of them. I look quickly at Choo Choo and almost laugh as she is prostrate on the floor, but I also notice she is the right size, and her coat almost matches Luna’s except for no black on her flank or the moon cutie mark.
I hear Choo Choo say, “Your royal highnesses. I am not worthy of your attention.”
“Please arise and tell me your name and why you have come here.” Celestia tells Choo Choo.
“Princess, I am but a humble servant of yours from another world, and time,” Choo Choo says to her.
I watch as Celestia turns her head slightly, closes her eyes suspiciously and asks, “May I ask, how you became an alicorn if you are but my humble servant?”
Choo Choo is standing up now, but still will not make eye contact with her as she says, “On the Last Day I was forced into a vat of chemicals and changed from a unicorn to what you see before you. I am over 270 years old and have had this form for 210 of them.”
“What is this last day you mention? You say it as if it was a momentous day that all should know.” Luna inquires.
Choo Choo looks at her and again bows low then stands back up as she tells them, “My apologies, your majesty. The Last Day on our time line ended a twenty-year war between Equestria and the Zebra’s Caesar. Unfortunately, that end involved a full exchange of Mega-spells and Balefire bombs. Most of those who had not been either in a stable when it happened or converted like I was were killed that day or died soon afterwards.”
Sunny then says, “But what about the ghouls, Choo?”
Choo Choo shakes her head and says, “Sunset Water, you have talked to enough of them that you should know by now that most of them feel that their bodies are already dead and that they were rejected from Elysium.”
Then Epona adds, “Come on Sunny, how many times have you heard the Colonel talk about that with them. I know she still feels she was, too.”
I see a look of surprise come over their faces and Celestia asks, “What are ghouls and why would this Colonel feel that way?”
Choo Choo answers this, “The Colonel they refer to is one of Ginger Snaps and Epona’s adopted mothers, as well as Sunny’s distant cousin. She technically died but was brought back to life and since then I have been present several times when ghouls have first met her and could tell that she too had been dead and returned.”
“This all seems fascinating but again, you have not explained what a ghoul is, or who you all are.”
I see a light go on in Epona’s face, “Your highnesses, please forgive us, but many of the questions you seek to answer are in the book that I have given to Princess Twilight Sparkle. As for us, well, the New Canterlot Republic uses us to go and fix situations. In this case we were planning on going to mine and Sweet Potato’s home timeline which we escaped from as little more than foals.” We all see a look of confusion come over their faces as at the term New Canterlot republic.
Then Luna asks, “So you two are not really sisters?”
Epona looks at me with my red coat and bay markings, smiles and says, “Princess Luna, the answer to this is very complicated. The two of us before you, were born on different timelines, but on each timeline, we were the other’s half sibling. When I came over, I was adopted by the same mare that adopted Ginger after her mother was killed,” She shrugs her shoulders and says, “So, yes and no.”
I also notice my fiancé smirking as he bows slightly and says, “That would be a yes your majesty, even if they came from different timelines, they are most certainly sisters. My parents have even commented on this to me a time or two, as have their moms and dads, much to their chagrin.”
I notice Starlight Glimmer is looking rather confused and I see her mouth the words “Moms and dads?”
I then turn toward Spike, and I see him giggle lightly and then tap on Twilight’s shoulder and say, “I really wish we had some popcorn to go with this show.”
I see Twilight smirk and blush as she tells him, “Not now, Spike.” I also notice she has still been paging through the Book of Little Pip. Then I hear her say in a questioning almost breathless tone, “Stable 2 and Sweet Apple Acres? Raiders in Ponyville. In my library.” and I watch as she puts a hoof over her muzzle and I see a tear in her eye for a history that is not hers.
Spike then turns to her and asks, “Pretty interesting reading, Twilight?”
She nods her head and tells him in a choking up voice, “Yes and I am so thankful that it is not our history, just after the little bit I have glanced at.”
As she is talking, I notice Luna and Celestia sit at the table with us, closer to Twilight Sparkle and also Choo Choo, who they begin to question about her powers and I even hear them discussing something Choo Choo calls Unity.
It is during this time I also notice that several of the royal guards are in the hallway outside. I look at their armor and weapons and think of how quaint they are compared to what we have brought with us. It amazes me to think that when the great war started that this was all the Equestrian Army had.
Suddenly I hear Princess Luna ask, “So which one of you is technically the older sister?”
Epona answers it for us before I can by telling her, “Well technically, Ginger is by a couple of days.”
“I see and you both have the same parents on both time lines?”
I smile at this and tell her, “On both timelines we had different mothers, but shared the same father.”
I see Luna raise an eyebrow at this and I all but hear Spike excitedly tell Twilight Sparkle, “See this is what I am talking about, Twilight, you can read later, you really need to hear this.”
Beside them I see Starlight Glimmers eyes are opened wide, her ears forward and her mouth is in the shape of an o. I look at her smile and shrug as I tell her, “Sorry Starlight, I guess dad was a bit of a rouge.”
Then Sunny says, “Yeah, almost as bad as your Papa Badger.”
At this I simply look down and giggle mildly before taking another sip of my tea. Then I say, “True Sunny, but overall, he is a good buck.”
When she hears this Luna asks, “Who is this Papa Badger?”
I sigh and I watch Epona blush as I tell the princess, “Your highness, he is one of our adopted fathers,” I pause and I blush as I say, “We also have a second adopted father and four adopted mothers as well. But that becomes even more complicated for Epona because of Papa Badger and Mama Sumac. Sumac was her grandmother on both sides, sooo…”
I see Luna tilt her head as if waiting for more. I see Celestia beside her turn her full attention upon me and she seems almost amused by this. Across the table I can hear Spike outright laughing as he tells Twilight, “I can’t wait to tell the guys about this at the next O and O night. Even Discord is not going to believe this one.”
I notice as he says this that Starlight Glimmer slowly takes another sip of tea but has a smile on her muzzle as well as a raised eyebrow.
Then I hear Sunny say, “Excuse me Choo Choo, but I do have the team camera with me, remember, no pictures it didn’t happen.”
I see Choo Choo sigh then smile sheepishly as she asks, “Princesses, would you mind us taking your photos?”
Celestia smiles widely, “No, not at all Choo Choo, please, do.”
We do take several photos. Including one where we end up using the timer so we can all be in it. Finally, Choo Choo blushing asks, “Princess Luna, may I, may I ask that I be allowed a photo with just you?”
I see Luna look at her suspiciously and hear her ask, “May I ask why?”
Choo Choo looks down at the ground, then back up at her, “Because you were always my favorite princess. Ever since your return. I even disguise myself and paint your cutie mark on me on me for Nightmare Night for the foals and calves around the Manesville area, when we are home.”
I see Celestia is slightly perturbed at hearing this, but Luna smiles widely and a blush comes over her cheeks, “So even in such a world as you come from, you still remember me favorably? Then I would be honored Choo Choo.”
After the picture is taken, we all see it occur. We see a bright flash and suddenly upon Choo Choo’s flanks we see Luna's cutie mark appear, but superimposed upon it is a locomotive as if traveling under its moonlight.
I see the stunned expression on Choo Choo’s face and both Celestia and Luna look at each other. Then Celestia says, “I had not noticed you had not had a cutie mark; this is most; unusual.”
Choo Choo now smiling proudly tells her, “Your majesty, I lost my cutie mark, which was just the steam engine when I became an alicorn. I did not know we could get them back.”
“And now with my darkness and crescent moon, what do you think that means?” Luna asks.
Choo Choo smiles, “As an engineer on the railroad I took those in my care from place to place. I guess now I do so through the darkness but with your guidance and hopefully your goodwill.”
I watch as both of the sisters nod to her, and Luna places a hoof on her shoulder, “That you have Choo Choo, that you have. Now it is best that you depart before you are unable to do so. Farewell, Choo Choo.”
As we finish putting back on our kits and head for the doorway I look back and see them all watching us. Finally, Starlight Glimmer asks, “You said when you arrived that your group's job is to fix situations, what are you?”
Tater then smiles at her and says, “Ma’am, I guess you could just call us repair ponies.” And with that Choo Choo leads us back through the doorway and we find ourselves back in the railcar. I see Twinkle Hoofs and Cowlick both looking at us expectantly and Twinkles asks, “So anything interesting happen?”
We all look at each other and smile, then I can tell when Twinkle Hoofs sees Choo Choo’s new Cutie Mark and I hear her say, “Okay, you better have pictures.”
Title: Oaths Author: Salted Pingas “Cross my heart and hope to fly! Stick a cupcake in my eye...”
The blue pegasus awoke with a soft groan as somepony tugged gently at her hind leg. Her crusty eyes cracked open for only a second before she mashed them shut again, a grimace spilling across her face. Whatever stupid hijinks she’d partaken in after liberty call last night had left her feeling sore all over, like she’d been trampled. Had she gotten blackout drunk in a mosh pit again? She certainly felt hungover enough and her dry lips cracked as her tongue darted out to lick them.
Something like pins and needles shot up her hind leg as somepony tugged at it again. Her bleary mind suggested it was her mother and she accepted it as fact. It made sense that she would crash at her mom’s place after the wild night, though the bed beneath her felt too stiff to be the one in her foalhood bedroom. She chocked that up to her sore and sorry state, or maybe she’d only made it to the couch before crashing for the night.
“Mm,” she mumbled, brow furrowing as she grumbled at her pained state, “Just a few more minutes, mom…” She shifted in the stiff bed, trying to find a more comfortable position to hopefully snag another few minutes of shut-eye. She knew it had to be the weekend since she never got drunk before duty. Air Sergeant Touch’n Go had yelled at her senselessly the first few times and she’d never done so since.
“Hold still, please.” A buck’s voice spoke up from behind her.
The pegasus stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, her wings snapping up in alarm and her crusty eyes cracking open. Her stiff neck elicited another soft groan as she turned her head and saw where she was. Reality felled her illusions in a single, swift blow.
The walls were made from hard drywall, cracked and flaking with age. The mattress was taut fabric and old stuffing on a stiff, wooden platform. Her body wasn’t stiff from partying, it was stiff from wartime wounds taken below the clouds during Operation Cauterize.
And the buck had a glowing horn sticking up from his scalp, his magic ensnaring her leg.
The pegasus’ heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching as terrible fear overcame her. The nightmarish lessons and briefings she’d had to attend above the clouds all came back to her at once. Unicorns fueled their foul magics by drinking the blood of noble pegasi, using dark necromancy to hide their disfigurements in a sick sense of vanity. They were only better than earth ponies in that they didn’t eat their even-numbered foals or squalor about in their own filth.
Now one of the foul creatures had captured her! What was he going to do?! Pull off her leg and drink her gushing blood?! Or would he torture her first, make her scream?! Make her his sex slave?! And when he was done would he dump her out in the radioactive wastes and watch her skin peel off?! Or perhaps he might just decide to...to...slowly unravel the bandage on her hind leg to check the wound beneath...
Wait, what?
She could almost feel the spinning gears in her brain seize up as the wasteland pony peered over a long, scabbing laceration on her hind leg. His jowls didn’t drip with hungry saliva and his gaze stayed professionally away from her feminine parts. His movements were, in fact, gentle as he resecured the bandage after a satisfied nicker.
“I’d feared you might not wake up,” The pegasus flinched when the unicorn spoke to her, the cogworks of her mind only just starting to spin back up. He frowned at her alarmed state, taking a slow step back to give her some room. “Don’t be frightened, I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to reassure her, placing a tan hoof against his breast, “I’m doctor Chardonnay, you can call me Dr. Char if that’s easier. May I ask how you’re feeling?”
As well meaning as his words were, they did little to put the pegasus’ mind at ease. The gears of her mind were turning again, but now at an alarming speed as she tried to fully process her situation. Her dark blue eyes remained firmly locked onto Dr. Char’s own red-orange pair as her mouth opened and closed a few times, but words failed her.
Dr. Char’s frown turned thoughtful for a moment before he tried again.
“Sky Bloom?” The pegasus flinched when he spoke, “Is that you name?”
Sky nodded shakily, licking her dry lips again, “H-how did you know?” She finally managed to stutter as her mind settled on the simple context of the question. Was he telepathic? Could he read her thoughts!? Could he use mind control powers!?
“Your ID tags.” He managed a small smile as he broke through her mental lockdown. Sky squirmed when he ignited his horn again, unease spreading across her face, “It’s all right, it’s all right,” he tried to calm her, unbuttoning a back pocket on his barding. “Here.” He floated her jangling ID tags slowly through the air.
“Oh…” Sky managed, feeling stupid. Of course he’d known her name. That was the whole point of wearing ID tags! After a moment she built up the courage to take her ID tags in a shaky wing, snatching them from the golden glow of his magic. She slipped them carefully over her head, glancing down as they settled around her neck.
With her eyes drawn downwards she grimaced at the sorry state of her power armor strewn about the base of the bed. The sight of it was like a sudden buck to the head, her eyes shooting wide. Her breath came in sudden, hitching gasps again as her gaze darted about the room without seeing anything, wings wringing themselves at her sides, “M-m-my squad!”
Darkness had settled upon Rallypoint Rodeo-7. Casualties had come streaming in and they’d suddenly lost communications with the vertibuck flying medevac. Wingpony Recruit Sky Bloom had been putting her cutie mark and training to good work as a combat medic, though their supplies were quickly dwindling. Her gorge rose up in her throat when she remembered the sudden ambush, bullets and grenades flying in from all directions. Their medical officer, Ensign Wingbeat, had gone down right in front of her, his yellow dot disappearing from her armor’s E.F.S. She’d returned fire blindly with her lunasurge carbines, the tactile thrumming in her wing working in tandem with the streaks of deadly energy spitting out.
But then the ground had risen up beneath her, her world becoming blurry and silent as she saw the dark sky then the dark ground. Her breath had gone out of her when she crashed back down, forcing her to gasp painfully for air as debris rained down around her. Her vision flickered with her E.F.S. as it fed her red messages she couldn’t read, the armor status indicator colored black. Yellow dots of friendlies had flashed past her vision, but a coppery taste in her mouth had strangled back her cries of help. Then red dots had begun filling her E.F.S. and a cruel shape had appeared before her and she had known nothing more.
“Sky Bloom? Ms. Sky Bloom?” Sky gave a short shriek with Dr. Char’s worried face so close to her own, pressing her wounded body back into the wall. She whimpered and gasped, shaking until he stepped back again, “Sorry,” his words were sincere, his gestures placating as he continued, “I thought you might be going into shock, you’ve got a mild concussion on top of your other wounds.” He gestured to her body, but her feral gaze remained locked on his face. He frowned, his hoof settling back down as he cleared his throat, “Griffin talons and pony resistance fighters ambushed and overran your position. Some of them played it a little loose with the laws of war concerning wounded enemies...” he turned his gaze away for a moment, “...you were one of three pegasi who were still alive when I arrived. I’m sorry to say that we couldn’t save the other two. I managed to stabilize your wounds and get you back to my village for further treatment.”
Tears began to build in Sky’s eyes, her hitching breath turning to soft sobs as she settled stiffly back down into the bed. She hid her face behind her wings, body wracking quietly as her mind digested the information. They were all dead, her entire squad if not her entire platoon. Ponies she’d eaten lunch with, one or two she’d cuddled with, all of them gone now.
Dr. Char grew uncomfortable at the mare’s distress, wanting to step forwards and comfort her. But after her last reaction to his close presence, he let out a sigh and remained where he was.
“I’m a prisoner of war…” Sky finally managed to murmur, wiping at her eyes with a wing.
“Actually, the war’s over. You’re just my patient,” Dr. Char spoke up quickly, seeing an opportunity to quell her worries, “You can go home as soon as you’re up for it.” He gestured to the remains of her armor scattered beneath the bed, “Had some trouble getting you out of your power armor. If it wasn’t broken in the ambush it was when we popped you out of it. Could probably give you a pair of old saddlebags, let you take some of the stuff we salvaged from the site. Don’t want to just send you out naked into the wind.”
“The war is…” she fixated on his first words, teary eyes finding his face and then the window behind him. Her body went stock still at the sight of unadulterated sunlight pouring through, “There’s sunlight coming in through your window…” her voice was suddenly very small, a knot in her throat trying to strangle the words down. If there was sunlight in the wasteland...
“There is,” Dr. Char nodded with a glance to the window.
“It’s all gone, then? All the cloud cover?” Sky cast her gaze to the floor. What had happened? Were all her friends and family homeless now? Were they all dead like her squad? She couldn’t be the last pegasus alive, could she?
“Lightbringer’s not that cruel.” Dr. Char shook his head, thinking for a moment, “Nothing’s for sure, but the airwaves say about half of it’s gone. Twenty-something of the S.P.P. towers shot out sonic rainbooms and cleared out a bunch of the cloud cover.”
“Fuck,” Sky said bitterly, fighting back another burst of tears.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds.” He took a cautious step towards her, his tone reassuring, “There’s still a good chunk of real estate up there. The Lightbringer wasn’t trying to displace or kill any pegasi, just get them to look down and see that it’s not so bad down here, hopefully start to reintegrate everypony back into wasteland society.”
“B-but we can’t live down here!” Sky thought back to her training, “The radiation! The taint! The monsters!”
“All of those are avoidable once you figure out the lay of the land.” Dr. Char said with a frown, “How do you think the rest of us manage?”
“B-but you-you eat each other!” She’d had to take annual training on this for wind’s sake! Pegasi couldn’t live beneath the clouds! It was a well-known fact! “You drink pegasus blood an-and use necromancy to-to hide your disfigurements!”
“What?” Dr. Char’s head tilted like she’d started speaking in tongues.
“W-we have government-mandated training on this!” She fell back on her training, worry spreading across her face at his odd looks. “It’s what they tell us…” but the words sounded weak even before they left her lips now that she was actually down here. This pony had taken her in, healed her wounds, kept her safe...he couldn’t really be a monster, could he?
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever had the urge to drink blood,” Dr. Char continued to look perplexed as he worked through her accusations. “It would make a terrible food source. Mostly water, not many nutrients, and necromancy to cure what now? Disfigurements?” The idea seemed to baffle him, “Even if I was…” he paused to look over himself, “...disfigured, how would that even work? Necromancy only works on dead things, far as I know.”
“And...you’re alive…” Sky’s head was starting to hurt, and not from the mild concussion, she suspected, “This...I don’t...doesn’t make any sense!” Her eyes lifted to his again, searching for a moment, “Why would the government tell us that if it wasn’t true?”
“Maybe they want to keep everypony in the shade, above and below the clouds.” Dr. Char suggested with a quick shrug that did nothing to alleviate Sky’s worries, “Look, don’t get too worked up over this, what’s done is done.” He looked about for a moment as his words failed to quench her worries, “You’ve been out a good number of days,” he started over to a banged-up refrigerator, the talismans set in its sides still glowing dully. Sky watched him carefully as he opened it, his horn lighting up as he rummaged about, “couldn’t get any liquids in you except for a few drops of water on the tongue.”
Sky’s eyes lit up as he closed the fridge door, a filled water bottle that appeared to have been made before the war held in his magic. Her tongue suddenly felt sticky as she pressed it to the roof of her mouth.
She would have given him anything for the bottle, her eyes tracking it like a laser-guided missile. He trotted back to her, still maintaining a respectable distance, but getting closer this time.
“Drink this slowly.” He chided, offering it freely in his magic.
Sky snatched it up in her wing, fumbling with the cap which she spat to the floor. She intended to follow the doctor’s orders, knowing she should drink slowly or the water would just pass right through her body.
But the second she felt the cool liquid touch her tongue she lost all semblance of control, practically choking the water down. She had to fight back a sob as she chugged the deliciously sacred water, her throat pulsating with every gulp.
Dr. Char sighed, but let her finish the bottle, “It’s purified.” He told her after she’d finished, gasping down air. Sky couldn’t have cared if it was poisoned.
“More?” She tried not to beg, holding the empty bottle out in a wing.
“Later.” Dr. Char said, taking the bottle from her in his magic and continuing with a pointed look, “For now I should check the rest of your wounds. I think I got all the shrapnel out of your shoulder,” he indicated the bandages there with a hoof, “But I might’ve missed one or two little pieces.” His hoof settled gently back on the floor, “May I?”
Sky, her hackles starting to rise, gave herself a quick once-over. She looked like she might refuse, but eventually managed a jerky nod. Maybe he’d give her more water afterwards.
“Thank you.” Dr. Char nodded, his hoofsteps soft and slow as he approached.
Sky squirmed as his magic appraised her wounds, tingling as he unravelled her bandages and eyed the injuries beneath. But she powered through her discomfort, not bolting or biting or bucking him away. His soft touch and gentle mannerisms slowly smoothed her raised hackles and slowed her racing heart. Her calming mind started to let her think straight and she seemed to chew over her words for a moment, tasting them before speaking.
“Wh-why?” She managed.
“Why what?” Dr. Char asked, jerking his head down to the sutured wound in her shoulder, “The shrapnel? Assume whatever got you got you from below. A mine or a grenade or something. Wings are all fine, only damage—”
“Why are you helping me?” Sky interrupted, eyes darting away as he gave her an odd look, “If...if you want something or...think I can give you something…” she swallowed and trailed off.
He paused for a moment, eyes finding her cutie mark: a simple crutch, before turning back to his work.
“You some kinda medical pony? A medic or something?” He asked her, making a satisfied noise as he re-bandaged her shoulder. His magic tickled a little as he deftly checked the bandages around her ribs.
“I’m a combat medic,” Sky gave a quick nod, “but I only graduated last week.”
“Then you should know why.” He let her think about that for a moment, taking her chin gently and shining his horn’s light in both of her eyes. She blinked rapidly when he let go and moved towards her backside, “Need the other leg, please. Can I have you roll over?”
Sky watched him with a hawk-like glare as she did what she was told, Dr. Char taking her other hind leg gently in his magic. But he was a perfect gentlecolt, eyes focused on his work as he applied a clean dressing from a medkit on the floor.
“Why?” Sky tried again.
“You know your hipponicratic oath?” He gave her a quick nod to roll back over, checking her pulse and blood pressure with his magic.
Sky had to consider her words for a moment, recalling what she’d forced herself to memorize through countless late night studies, “‘I...swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant: I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I trot, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow. I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required, avoiding those…” she had to pause, a moment and think, “those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.
“I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's potion. I will not be ashamed to say ‘I know not,’ nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery.
“I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given to me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play as the Goddesses.
“I will remember…’” Sky trailed off with a touch of shame. It had been easier when somepony there was feeding her the lines.
“‘I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick sentient creature, whose illness may affect the creature's family and economic stability.’” Dr. Char spoke up, earning a surprised look from Sky Bloom. He smiled at her, a quick gesture prompting her to recite the words with him.
“‘My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.’” Both ponies now recited, “‘I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.
“I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow creatures, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.
“If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.’”
Silence fell across the room as the two ponies finished reciting their shared oath. Something that, as it turned out, even two hundred years of hardship and isolationism couldn’t snuff out.
“I’ve always preferred the old ponish version myself,” Dr. Char smiled and Sky couldn’t help but flash him one in return, “Primum non nocere. First, do no harm.” He raised an eyebrow, “Doesn’t say anything about wings or horns or even talons and claws and paws, does it?”
“No.” Sky was just now starting to realize, feeling as some of the old Enclave wiring in her head began to unravel itself. When she returned from her reverie her gaze was more firm, her sore body relaxing despite Dr. Char’s close proximity, “I...I didn’t think that ponies down here still believed in that kind of stuff.”
“Not everypony does,” Dr. Char admitted with a sigh, “I’ve known many a pony who calls themself a doctor but doesn’t deserve the title. Cheats and thieves and snake-oil salesmares; but there are those of us down here who still stick to the old ways, who stand by our oaths, find meaning in them.” He paused a moment, thinking, “I don’t suppose there’s ever a case of malpractice above the clouds?”
Sky looked away, “Sometimes,” she had to admit.
“The world’s not perfect, neither are the ponies in it,” Dr. Char said, “It’s up to those few of us who remain good and true and keep to our oaths to do the best we can for as many others as we can.”
Sky’s eyes grew a little distant as she digested his words, mulling them over as she got into a more comfortable position on the bed. Dr. Char, finished checking her over, began to pack up his medical kit, tossing soiled bandages into a pot to boil clean later.
“Doctor?” Sky asked suddenly, earning Dr. Char’s humble gaze. “You said that maybe it was time for pegasi to start re-integrating back into the world again...” Dr. Char nodded at her words, watching as Sky tried on a small smile, “You happen to know of any openings for a medical pony fresh out of school?”
Title: The Negotiating Table Author:Warren Peace Content Warning: some crude language “You were right about one thing, master. The negotiations were short...”
There was a slight tilt to the lonely passageway aboard the Raptor cloudship Resplendent. While it wasn’t enough to send a careless pony sliding, a dense layer of brass and steel shell casings had all settled down against the portside bulkhead. The bullets and grenades that had once nested in the shells now pockmarked the far end of the passageway. The powder that had given the projectiles their wild ride was a mild, sulphurous scent in the otherwise still air. A browning streak of blood lay at the end of the passageway, slithering away beneath the closed door.
A closed door that, with a sudden whisper, snapped open to let an Enclave officer perhaps a decade past her prime flutter out into the passageway. She settled down smartly past the drying streak of blood and gave her gray collar a quick tug as she let out a breath.
She had taken a light dabbling of makeup to her eyes in an effort to hide the dark circles beneath them, but other than that she looked shockingly presentable in spite of current circumstances. A pack of shower wipes had cleaned the grime from her dapple gray coat and a brush had made her midnight mane with its two-tone silver streak shine. Her only armament was the steely look on her face as she brought up a hoof-held broadcaster with one wing.
“Bridge, Commander Shrike. All clear. Go for cycle. Out,” Commander Shrike slotted the broadcaster back into a large pocket as it chirped a quick reply.
“Bridge copies. Good luck, ma’am. Fly steady.”
The door behind her hissed shut and there was a thump as the heavy lock ensured it would stay that way. Down at the unmarred end of the passageway there was a replying thump and a hiss as that door cycled open.
Commander Shrike resisted the sudden urge to void herself as a pair of hulking, steel-clad behemoths squeezed through the door. Side by side they clogged the passageway, impassive black eyepieces illuminated from within by targeting spells.
The first steel ranger’s battle saddle housed a pair of IF-48 grenade machine guns that could turn her into mulch with a quick burst. The second wore an IF-2 heavy machine gun over his right shoulder whose fifty caliber rounds could punch straight through her and at least three of the bulkheads behind her. Both of their armors were pockmarked with colorful splotches where magical energy weapons had failed to penetrate, but the second’s armor bore a red paint job that made Commander Shrike frown.
“I feel a little underdressed!” she remarked, raising a forehoof and spreading her wings to show she was unarmed.
“Turn around, face the door!” the unpainted ranger barked as he strode forwards, the red ranger taking up a position at his end of the passageway. “On your belly!”
“Yep,” Commander Shrike complied coolly with his commands, thankful she’d had the forethought to step past the bloody streak on the deck.
“Legs straight out and cross ‘em! Swish your tail to the left and spread your wings out wide!” the unpainted ranger stomped up to the Enclave mare’s right side, impassive helmet glaring down at her.
“Enjoy the view,” Commander Shrike snarked, doing as commanded.
“Quiet!” the unpainted ranger growled, resting an armored forehoof on her back. The Enclave mare had no doubt that he could crush her spine flat against the deck with ease if he wanted to. “Clear!” he finally called.
“Send her through!” the red ranger called back through the open door.
A youngish unicorn mare poked her white, freckled face past the door, the rest of her robed body following shortly thereafter. She trotted quickly down the corridor, Commander Shrike’s ears twisting around to listen.
“The pony doing the pat-down, I presume,” she spoke up, continuing with a wry grin. “Guessing it’s probably a little hard to do a cavity search in power armor.”
“It’ll only take a moment,” the scribe assured Commander Shrike as she came to a halt beside the unpainted ranger and lit up her horn. “Just hold still.”
“Sure, just tell me when you want me to spread my hinds and open the blinds,” Commander Shrike let out a quiet nicker. “My safe word is radishes.”
Her safe word, as it turned out, was unneeded as a soft glow highlighted a hoof-full of items through the pockets of her uniform.
“Her ID tags, some gum, lighter, a few bits, pen and notebook,” the scribe noted the items she was seeing, “and the broadcaster.” She dropped the spell, turning back down the passageway and calling, “She’s clear!”
“On your hooves, feather duster!” the unpainted ranger let Commander Shrike back up, keeping his weapons leveled at the door she’d come from. The Enclave mare ignored the slur, brushing herself off and straightening her uniform as she followed the scribe’s gesture to proceed down the passageway.
“That spell’s pretty nifty, I’m impressed,” Commander Shrike commented as the scribe fell in behind her. The unpainted ranger began to clomp slowly backwards as he held up the rear. When the scribe didn’t reply, she continued, “Any limitations to what it can detect?”
“Only limit is the caster’s skill,” the scribe allowed, if somewhat briskly.
“Ever use it to help your special somepony find your happy button?” Commander Shrike cast a sly grin over her withers, catching the fierce blush that overtook the scribe’s face.
“I hadn’t thought of that…” the scribe said in a quiet, almost thoughtful, voice. By now the group had reached the end of the passageway, the red ranger taking the lead and the unpainted ranger slapping the door controls after he was through. There was another powerful thunk as an Enclave pony on the bridge threw the lock.
“I’ve got an ex-husband who could certainly benefit from a spell like—” Commander Shrike began as they took a turn down a side passageway.
“Quiet, feather duster!” the unpainted ranger cut her off with a growl. “Elder Star wants to speak to you, we don’t.”
“I’m not even allowed an iota of conversation before you ponies march me to my probable doom?” Commander Shrike shot him a raised brow. “Or can a tough guy like you not stand a little bit of girl talk between the lovely young lady and me?”
The unpainted ranger snorted before replying, “I know what you’re doing! Trying to make yourself seem more relatable, more equine, thataway it’s supposed to be harder for us to kill you when the time comes!”
“Sounds like we’ve got the same kind of training, then,” if the ranger’s ultimatum disturbed the Enclave mare she didn’t show it in the calm of her voice. “Maybe we’re not so different after all.”
“We are nothing like you!” the unpainted ranger snarled with a powerful stomp that Commander Shrike could feel reverberate through the deck. “I heard what you bastards did to Friendship City! If you think we’re anything like that then you’re even dumber than you look!”
“Last I checked this is Vanhoover,” Commander Shrike countered coolly. “And other than crash landing here, we’ve done nothing to your city that won’t buff out with a little spit and shine. I’d try to appreciate that if I were you.”
“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” the unpainted ranger growled, a curt silence following in the conversation’s wake. The small group began to pass crude barricades that had been wedged or welded in place, small groups of power-armored rangers allowing them to pass with silent glares following the lone pegasus. The scribe departed down a side passageway wordlessly, leaving Commander Shrike with the power armored behemoths.
“Hate to be the one to point this out, Fuse, but: stable two...” the red ranger spoke up suddenly, earning a curious frown from Commander Shrike.
“What?” the unpainted ranger, Fuse, growled. “Oh, shut it, Dance! Elder Sabre’s actions were entirely justified! What they did there is nothing like what this nag and the rest of her race tried to do at Friendship city!”
Dance cast a look over his withers, though his helmet made it unreadable as he spoke, “I, for one, appreciate your restraint in regards to your defense of the Vanhoover tower, ma’am. As well as your willingness to come and talk with our leaders.”
“Our leaders, Dance?” Fuse let out a snort. “Your elder and star paladins are all dead! You don’t have anyone to send to the negotiating table! You’ll be lucky if Elder Star lets you ponies stay till the end of the week!”
Dance made a noncommittal grunt before turning his head forwards again.
Before Commander Shrike could probe the issue and answer the new series of questions in her head, the hangar bay opened up before them. With its greater size, the tilt to the deck was far more noticeable here, though still not hazardous. Commander Shrike took in the view as quick as she could, scowling up at the destroyed cameras throughout the hangar.
The various turrets in the overhead were all sparking and slagged, wires hanging like entrails with bullet holes and burn marks scattered about them. She counted a large number of power armored rangers and robed scribes, a few dozen of each. Her eyes darted to Dance’s red-painted armor and didn’t miss the fact that most of those in power armor shared the color scheme.
A few sky-tanks and bombing chariots were scattered about the interior, not nearly the full complement that the Resplendent had set out with. Most were now scattered about outside where they’d fallen after the Vanhoover tower had shot out its sonic rainboom. Commander Shrike’s only hope was that those inside had managed to escape back to the clouds or died fighting the good fight.
She squinted against the sunlight as she was led out of the hangar, stepping down a set of ramps that the ground-bound ponies had erected to enter the crashed cloudship. Most of the power armored ponies were positioned here where they could control the flow of bodies in and out of the crashed ship. Commander Shrike couldn’t help but notice a number of wasteland ponies giving the cloudship a wide berth, their eyes striking like knives at her wings.
Commander Shrike’s own eyes widened and then narrowed at the sight of a small group of pegasi who were tethered to long stakes driven into the ground. A small crowd of wastelanders were gathered around, staring and glaring while they threw watchful looks to a pair of red-armored rangers keeping watch over the prisoners. The pegasi all perked up at the sight of her, whispering to each other as their spirits were bolstered.
Commander Shrike tore her gaze swiftly away from their hopeful looks, feathers ruffling uncomfortably at her sides. She set her sights on the small table she was being led to where a unicorn buck was scowling at a red-armored ranger whose helmet rested on his withers.
“...conflict, a contingent’s senior paladins may designate one of their own to the rank of Elder,” the helmetless ranger was saying. Dance lifted a forehoof, signaling the group to stop a respectful distance from the two ponies. Fuse stepped up beside his compatriot, muttering something foul under his breath as he watched.
Commander Shrike took in the helmetless ranger’s features quickly; a chiseled, dirty yellow chin with a light orange mane slicked back close to his scalp. His turquoise eyes were hard, but intelligent as they bore down onto the unicorn’s face.
The ranger’s horned counterpart wore a sour expression on his cobalt blue face, his mane a bright white that curled into yellow tips. Aquamarine eyes struck back at the ranger as he spoke.
“I am the Elder of this contingent, Senior Paladin,” the unicorn stressed the ranger’s rank, his tone matching that of a dean speaking to a troublesome student. “As such, I am ordering you to stand down at once or face—!”
“You are the Elder of the Vanhoover Steel Rangers, Elder Star...” the ranger cut in with a steely tone, only for the unicorn to do the same.
“You will not speak over me!” Elder Star countered in a low and dangerous voice.
“...I am the acting Elder of Vanhoover’s Applejack’s Rangers,” the helmetless ranger finished, continuing unperturbed. “Until this conflict is resolved I am operating with all due authority of that rank,” Commander Shrike caught his stony eyes as they darted over to her, his firm jaw hiding his thoughts like a helmet as he turned back to Elder Star. “Let’s not bicker in front of company. Bad manners.”
Elder Star cast the Enclave mare and her escort a careful look before returning his gaze to the helmetless ranger. “You have no place at the negotiating table!”
“As Elder, I can order my scribes off of the ship,” the helmetless ranger offered, a small smile cracking the corners of his lips upwards.
“I...you…what?” Elder Star stammered back, the flame in his voice doused.
“In return for you allowing me to take part in the negotiation on behalf of my contingent, I will pull my scribes from the cloudship, granting yours free reign to do as they please,” his gaze turned to Commander Shrike, his lips pressing back into a line of steel as he continued. “My rangers will remain in full force, however, should they be needed once more.”
“Very well!” Elder Star allowed after a thoughtful moment. “Do so now.”
The helmetless ranger nodded, reaching back with a forehoof and setting his helmet over his head. “All callsigns, this is acting Elder Flower. All scribes are to depart the cloud vessel in an orderly fashion. This is neither an emergency or a drill, out.”
“A fitting name for such a mighty stallion,” Commander Shrike snarked as she was led forwards to the table. Elder Star sat on an old footlocker, adjusting his robes as he eyed Commander Shrike critically. Elder Flower removed his helmet and donned another unreadable look as he sat down in the dirt with a hiss of hydraulics.
“My mother certainly thought so,” Elder Flower deflected the jab with a cool tone.
“We are here to discuss important matters!” Elder Star butted in, tenting his hooves before him on the table as he sent a glare at the Enclave mare. “Are you ready to surrender peacefully, Commander? End this little...debacle you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Only if you’re ready to back the hell off my ship so I can get my ponies out of here,” she lifted a hoof to where the prisoners were being guarded. “And release any of my ponies you’ve captured.”
“Out of the question,” Elder Star shook his head, stamping a hoof on the table for emphasis. “Your surrender will be unconditional. Any weapons or armor will be turned over to me and you will all be processed accordingly.”
“If that’s a fancy way of saying: “lined up and shot” then you can kiss my tailhole, pinhead,” Commander Shrike countered with a scowl.
“What did you just call me!?” Elder Star bristled and his horn ignited, lifting a magical pistol above the lip of the table. “Perhaps you would like to rephrase that response...”
“I could always tell you where you can shove that horn,” Commander Shrike cracked a venomous grin. “But you might get off—”
“Do the lives of your ponies really mean so little to you that you would risk their wellbeing on foalhood insults, Commander Shrike?” Elder Flower spoke up, his harsh tone cutting her voice short and forcing her grin into a sharp scowl. Elder Star smiled as the tables turned, only for the look to flounder as Elder Flower turned to him and spoke, “And are you going to be so easily goaded into shooting an unarmed enemy? Put that weapon away and tell her your terms.”
“There are no terms—!” Elder Star began.
“Then she’s not going to surrender to you, Elder Star, and if that is the case then you have no reason to be at this table,” the unicorn bristled at that, but Elder Flower continued, directing his flat voice to both the ponies now, “this is a negotiating table and we are negotiating over the lives of not just your ponies, Commander Shrike, but mine and Elder Star’s as well. If neither of you are able to see that, then perhaps we can all resume hostilities, keep killing each other for no good reason, and wind up turning that bucket of cloud-bolts into slag!” he waved a hoof at the Resplendent.
“Fine,” Elder Star spat out the word as if he’d agreed to take a sucker punch. He took a breath and the snarl on his face faded as he tented his hooves before him again. “Your ponies will be fed and sheltered under my care, Commander Shrike. For those who resist or rebel, adequate punishment shall be metered out, but I won’t have you all shot like raiders.
“In return, I will expect you all to assist my contingent in tearing down and salvaging what we can of your Raptor,” he waved a hoof to the vessel before tenting it again. “Your magic will prove useful in maintaining the systems until such a time as civilization is ready to rise again from this pitiful wasteland,” he actually managed a smile as he finished, “Who knows? Perhaps then our ancestors will be working hoof in hoof instead of at each other’s throats.”
“Hm,” Commander Shrike looked thoughtful for a moment, but Elder Star’s smile faded when she spoke. “So not only are we going to be slaves that you can work to death, but we’ll be breeding stock for wing fetishists.”
“Do not insult me—” Elder Star started with a disgusted look.
“Don’t insult me!” Commander Shrike butted in with a growl. “We already have a home, and we’re returning to it whether that be with the wings on our backs or by the wind on our ashes. One way or another, my ponies go home!” she jabbed a wing to where the pegasus prisoners were being kept, the volume of her voice carrying enough that a few of them managed a scattered set of approving hoof stomps. “If you can’t understand that, then maybe we should go back to turning each other into dust.”
“You started this war—” Elder Star started.
“Sixteen hundred pegasi at Maripony would disagree with that statement...” Commander Shrike let out a low growl.
“You, Commander Shrike,” Elder Star began again, speaking quickly in order to get his words out. “You crashed your ship here in my city and you will damn well help me salvage it!”
“You could always turn it into a museum,” Commander Shrike countered with a sudden grin that Elder Star refused to share. “Tell you what, maybe I can put in a good word up above and have an engineering regiment sent down to tear the whole mess down for you. Of course, you’ll need to let us all go in order to do that.”
“My contingent will be the beneficiary of any cloud-tech can be salvaged and, through them, all future generations of ponies!”
“So scrap it yourselves,” Commander Shrike let her grin fade away.
“Salvage!” Elder Star stressed the word. “And in order to do so and to properly understand it, we will need your pegasus magic!” he sat back slightly as if that was supposed to settle the matter and finished, “Hence why we need you or, perhaps, just some of you to stay behind.”
“No,” Commander Shrike rebutted.
The small smile that had started to grow across Elder Star’s face withered and died.
“Then perhaps it will be the wind carrying your ashes back home…” he leaned forward with the quiet threat.
“Perhaps it shall…” Commander Shrike matched his tone and gesture.
“Ahem,” Elder Flower cleared his throat, making both ponies flinch. “You’re not going to hear my offer?”
“Your what?!” Elder Star turned. “Your...you...you don’t—!”
“I am operating under the full vested authority, as written in our charter, of an Elder of the Steel Rangers. Or, as it were, the Applejack’s Rangers,” Elder Flower explained firmly. He turned to Commander Shrike’s raised brow and continued, “As such, my words hold just as much power as his do.”
“Probably helps that your troopers outnumber his,” Commander Shrike sprouted a clever smile, stepping back and resuming a non-threatening posture. “Just because you’re the bigger of the two physically doesn’t mean my terms change.”
“Fair enough,” Elder Flower nodded once, Elder Star wearing a glower as he continued, “We cannot evacuate your vessel and certainly not the city of Vanhoover—”
“Cannot or will not?” Commander Shrike interrupted.
“I’m not here to debate semantics, Commander,” Elder Flower shook his head once. “You will not give ground on your ship any more than I will. Blood was spilled and lives were lost taking it and it won’t be given up for anything less. Not to mention that Vanhoover is our home just as much as the skies are yours,” he lifted a hoof for emphasis. “A direct order would clear out my own ponies, but it would undermine my current position as Elder. Just as surely, you ordering your ponies to go out and surrender or die would be just as damaging to your position.”
“Nopony voted to make me Commander,” Commander Shrike sated.
“The uniform doesn’t make the mare,” Elder Flower countered. “You wouldn’t be the first Enclave leader to see her crew mutiny after giving an unpopular command.
“Regardless,” Elder Flower was back to business. “I also can’t order Elder Star’s ponies nor the free wastelanders who live here to leave everything they have for a couple hours while you evacuate.”
“Not even if you have more firepower?” Commander Shrike let the quiet suggestion hang in the air. Elder Flower shot it down with a flat look. “Hey, it’s always an option.”
“Perhaps,” the word made Elder Star bristle beside him. “But not an avenue I’m willing to take at this time.”
“So how am I supposed to get my ponies out of here?” Commander Shrike scowled, then looked around suddenly. “I’ll admit, if this is a distraction or a stall you’ve got my ass beat.”
“Trust,” the Enclave mare let out a snort at the word, but Elder Flower continued all the same, “Surrender to me. Turn over your weapons and power armor and I’ll escort you out of the city myself,” he gestured with a hoof towards the Raptor. “You’ll be given a chance to treat your wounded in your medical facilities, grab enough supplies to get you home, and I’ll even let you take one of the cloud ships, sans any weapons, to carry anypony too injured to fly or any dead.”
“Wow, that sounds too good to be true!” Commander Shrike smiled a thin smile, rolling her eyes. “And all we’ve gotta do to do that is give you our only means of defending ourselves?”
“Like I said: it will take some amount of trust.”
“And like we say above the clouds: words are wind.”
Elder Flower’s lips cracked upwards again. “That’s a good one. Here’s another that I’m certain you’re familiar with: actions speak louder than words,” Commander Shrike flinched when he made a sudden gesture with one of his hooves, looking over to where the prisoners were being kept.
“Don’t—” the word died on her lips as one of the guards tossed a keychain at the hooves of one of the prisoners. The other shrugged out of a set of saddlebags, kicking them gently towards him. The pegasus hesitated, then snatched up the keychain in a wing before trying it on his collar. The device snapped open, dropping to the dirt.
At a wave from one of the guards, the pegasus unlocked the rest of the prisoners. Two of them shot off into the sky the second they were free. One of those who stayed, with many a worried glance to their power armored guards, peered through the saddlebags before donning them with a nod to her captors.
“Ma’am?” the first pegasus called out to Commander Shrike hesitantly.
“Go!” she called back, getting a sharp salute before the remaining pegasi took to the skies as fast as their wings would carry them. There was a low rumble of dissent from the crowd of wastelanders as they glared after the retreating pegasi, but they dispersed without incident.
“I shouldn’t have to remind you that you have an obligation to the future generations!” Elder Star’s scowl followed the pegasi until they were dots against the open sky. He turned the look towards Elder Flower and continued, “without any pegasi to salvage—”
“I have pegasi to salvage the Raptor,” Elder Flower cut in firmly, his eyes darting to Commander Shrike inquisitive look. “Farmers who came down after the clouds around the tower were dispersed.”
“Farmers!?” Elder Star sputtered. “You can’t truly believe—”
“Some of whom are retired members of the Enclave military and are intimately familiar with the technology,” Elder Flower cut his counterpart off.
“I hope you’re not planning on forcing—” Commander Shrike started, only to receive the same treatment as Elder Star.
“They have agreed to work for my contingent. Something about finding out that the air isn’t actually poisonous down here really seemed to turn them off from returning to the clouds,” Elder Flower assuaged her worries, if pointedly. “Between the rain of rutabagas that came down with the clouds and the bulbs they managed to save they should be able to get something to grow. On top of that,” he turned to Elder Star again, “they have also agreed to help salvage what they can of any military cloud-tech we have.”
Elder Star replayed those words back in his head once or twice before speaking. “‘We have..?’” he parroted back.
“Officially recognize me as Elder of the Applejack’s Rangers of Vanhoover, let Commander Shrike and her pegasi surrender to me, and I’ll split what we can salvage fifty-fifty with your contingent,” another nigh-imperceptible smile turned his lips upwards.
“I…” Elder Star stammered, his thoughts turning inward as he grew quiet, his hooves tapping together before him.
“Take your time to think over my terms,” Elder Flower turned his attention back to Commander Shrike.
The Enclave mare took a moment to consider her words, regarding Elder Flower with an unreadable expression. “Letting a hoof-full of prisoners go isn’t that big a deal if you can bag a greater bunch later and with no bloodshed...” she spoke with a measured voice.
“It’s also not a big deal if I planned on letting you all go regardless,” Elder Flower replied.
“Hm,” Commander Shrike’s thoughtful expression remained for a moment. “I can’t give up my weapons or power armor.”
“What if I let you treat your wounded and send them on their way first?” Elder Flower offered. “Those already in a hors de combat status…” something flickered behind Commander Shrike’s eyes at the term, “...or who are otherwise unarmed will be escorted out of the city first. Once they’re all clear, those remaining will surrender their arms and armor, then they can go.”
Commander Shrike considered her words again, turning her gaze to where the pegasus prisoners had been held not a few minutes before.
“I’ll need a separate skytank for the dead,” she turned back to him.
“Don’t push your luck, Commander Shrike,” Elder Star spoke up. “One is—”
“Very well,” Elder Flower spoke over his counterpart, earning a scathing look that Elder Flower answered with a firm glare of his own. “Are you or are you not going to fulfill your part of this arrangement?”
“Sixty-forty,” Elder Star pushed. “After all, my scribes—”
“Deal,” Elder Flower answered, turning to Commander Shrike. “We will still be removing any weapons from the vessels you take with you.”
“Wounded get patched up, dead get packed up, both go first with my ponies in non-combat roles,” Commander Shrike went back over their deal out loud. “Once they’re clear...the rest of us turn over our weapons and armor before following them back to the clouds.”
“Under the power of the wings on your backs,” Elder Flower nodded. “Not as ashes blowing on the wind.”
Elder Star spoke up as the conversation lulled, “I agree to your terms...Elder Pear Flower,” the title came hesitantly, but Elder Star still managed to say it. He turned to look at Commander Shrike, keeping his gaze even and his hooves tented as he waited.
“If you plan on taking us prisoner after you’ve got our weapons we’re not going to go quiet,” Commander Shrike narrowed her gaze at both ponies.
“And if that’s not my plan?” Elder Flower asked.
Commander Shrike chewed over her words again, checking their taste as her eyes fell to the table before her. After a moment, she managed to spit them out with all the dignity she could muster.
