Fallout Equestria: Letters to Celestia - Chapter 2

Story by AlmanacPony on SoFurry

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#4 of Fallout Equestria:

Based on Fallout: Equestria by Kkat.

Set YEARS before Littlepip ever set her first hoof from her Stable. The sins of the past resonate in more lands than Equestria, and in more hearts than those of ponies. Intrigue, mystery and death follow those that some may call heroes, but one among them could never accept that title.

This is Fallout Equestria: Letters to Celestia.

And the Wasteland is not your friend.


Chapter Two

Dear Princess Celestia, The Wasteland Makes Monsters Of Us All

"Slavery is a weed that grows on every soil...even if it's irradiated."

The group had become a line outside of New Appleloosa. The town tolerated slavers, but they and their slaves weren't allowed inside the town, and to make sure that everypony stayed outside were a group of looming guards. One of which stood on a high perch on the main gate.

He was a feather-brain, a pegasus everyone just called Gale. He was an old coot. Blind in one eye, light grey with a white mane, grey-scale all over this one with a single red eye, his other one white and scarred. He avoided me. I avoided him. He knew I had no love for pegusi, Dashite or otherwise. I shot him a glare. He was staring at me from under that wide brimmed hat of his. His hoof stroked a rifle in his lap. He was goading me. I did not need that right now; my mood was foul enough as it was.

Morab arts had met the group outside the town. She was filling out receipts and taking stock of the inventory as she went. The plan was for the entire group to head all the way to Fillydelphia to receive payment from Steam Bolt. Usually contract payments would be handled by Morab herself, but apparently this was a three-hundred-thousand cap operation. You don't trust a single mare with that kind of cash, no matter how credulous their reputation. The receipts had only just started flowing, and Morab had started at the front of the line. So I had time before she reached me at the back. How the fuck could I get out of this situation without losing my head? I shot stranger a look, this was his fault but that wasn't going to help now. So I inhaled a gulp of air and casually stepped out of the line.

"Where are you going?" A deep voice said beside me. I turned and met the black visor of one of the armoured ponies that had escorted us. The twin canons on his back and his voice made me realize that we'd met before. He was the one I'd spoken to briefly before we'd entered the dam at Neighagra Falls.

"Over the hill, need to use the little colt's room." I said in a semi-sarcastic tone.

"Leave your prize and stuff." He said. My step faltered before I gave him a square gaze. I tried my best to convey how stupid the order was with just that expression.

"This is a group of slavers after as big a payday as they can get. You really think I'm gonna leave my gear around them or a four-hundred cap slave sitting on their lonesome while I go take a shit?" I made sure to maintain a condescending tone. "No, I'm taking her and my stuff with me. I'll be back in about ten minutes, I'll even stand at the back of the line when I get back, don't much care." And with that I walked away from him.

I didn't look back as I walked, but my ears where pricked and I listened for any sound that might alert me to a follower. I stepped over the hill and down towards the ditches that ponies often used to relieve themselves. The stench was rife. I walked around it and headed down the side of the hill, trying to keep myself low when it levelled out. Soon I had the town between the group and me. I said I'd take ten minutes, but I bet he'd get suspicious after only five or six. So I didn't have long. I started trotting. I knew that the armour-clad stallion would come looking for me and I knew I was leaving Stranger behind but that was fine. If I was lucky Stranger would follow him, then I'd have backup.I followed the wall of New Appleloosa before heading down into the nearby dunes, putting some distance between me and the town. The direction didn't matter, so long as there was something between me and the group. They would kill me if they knew I was trying to get away.

My five minutes passed. Faster than I would have liked. So, I ran. Then I felt a shuffling on my back. No. Nope. This was not the best time for her to wake up."What's going on?" Curious sentence structure for a child, maybe she was older than I thought. "Mother?" Damnit.

"Your mother isn't here." I grumbled to her as I ran. "Settle down." She was wriggling around, and it was messing with my pace.

"Let me down!" She screamed. Whack! My head exploded in pain and I stumbled to the ground.

"Arrgh!" I groaned as I rubbed my temple. She took the opportunity to slip off my back. That had bloody hurt. She trotted in front of me and I saw why my ears were ringing. On her forearm was a bloody PipBuck. Stable ponies, you can keep 'em. "Was that really called for?"

"Where is my mother?" She growled at me. She was small, about half my height and around 10 years of age if I had to guess, but her eyes spoke of a maturity of somepony much older. Anger burned in those eyes too. A real anger that ponies don't typically learn when they were that young.

"Well, aren't you a spitfire." I said as I finished rubbing my temple. I checked my hoof, I wasn't bleeding, but I bet it would bruise. "We don't have time to talk. We have to go."

"Where is she?!" she screamed. I shoved my hoof into her mouth.

"Shut the buck up!" I growled at her, forcing her face to look me in the eyes as I held her. She looked scared, but I saw something else flash in those green eyes. Defiance. "Fine," I conceded as I dropped my hoof, adopting a malicious grin as I leaned in to touch noses. "Your mother is dead." Her pupils narrowed as that news sunk in. Grief, fright, terror and anger rolled over her face. "Or she might not be." I said with a casual shrug. She looked ready to cry; or hit me again; probably both. "Hell, she might be just behind us in the crowd behind these city walls. There's a load of them from your Stable there, she might have just gotten captured."

"MOTHER!" She yelled as she ran past me. I grabbed her collar in my teeth and yanked hard, pulling her backwards into the air. I then slammed her down with my hoof, pinning her to the ground with it.

"Do you see this?!" I hissed at her, shaking the collar as she stared at me. "This is a slave collar; it's wired with a bomb that can be set off remotely. It goes off, your head goes off. And your mother, if alive, has one just like it. She MIGHT be alive, it's unlikely, but it's possible I suppose. But if she is she's got one of those on her neck and that makes her a slave. And she'll be surrounded by those that consider her property.

"There are over twenty ponies over that hill, all of them either consider you or your mother or anypony else you cared about in that Stable as nothing more than a pile of caps, or a piece of meat." She was listening now. Good; maybe we might get out of this alive. She just needed to listen and obey. "If you go back there, at best, you'll be captured by them, taken by them, raped by them, and then traded for a bunch of caps to a Master that might do all of that every day for the rest of your life. Or maybe they'd just put you to work until you die from exhaustion." I let that sink in a moment. "You can't help her if you go back there, but if you shut up and come with me, maybe one day we could save her." I saw a little hope in her eyes. "Bear in mind there are around sixty of your stable friends back there as slaves, and the rest of your Stable was killed. So the chances of one of them being your mother, is very slim."

"My mother's alive." The certainty in her voice was admirable. It was also extremely naïve. "Who are you?"

"I'm the guy trying to save your life." I said as I removed my hoof from her chest. We needed to get going; I trotted past her. "Come on." She was staring back at the dune, over which the tops of the New Appleloosa walls loomed.

"Can't we save her now? Please?" The filly's voice cracked. Just what I needed. I wasn't looking at her, but there were probably tears.

"No we can't. We have to go now. They're gonna come looking for us and we've barely put any distance between us and them. If they catch us, they'll take you, and probably kill me. So come on!"

"If I'm such a danger to you, then why save me?" She yelled. That stopped me, I hadn't expected that question. I turned back to look her in the eye.

"Because I have a judgemental bastard of a friend that made me." It probably wasn't the answer she'd expected. But hey, I was an honest guy, well, most of the time I was. And why the look of fear? She wasn't even looking at me anymore... what was she..?

"I'd say that was some bad advice." Fuck.

I turned around and faced the sights of a double cannon battle saddle. I'd say he wasn't happy. Not that I could really tell, his face was covered by his helmet, but I assumed he wasn't happy. Happy people didn't often point guns at each other; gun pointing in the Wasteland _was_a common occurren-

"Hoof over the filly." Oh right. Cannons. Filly. Bad Guy "Or do you want this to get ugly?"

"'This to get ugly'?" I parroted back. "Where are you from?"

"That doesn't matter. Hoof her over!" Those cannons definitely didn't look friendly.

Maybe this would get me killed but it was worth a shot. "The way you speak is scripted." I made sure to adopt a cocky tone.

"What?" He said

"You sound scripted. Like this little bit has been practiced. Did you prepare this in front of a mirror?"

Whack!

Uggh, more pain. Okay, maybe I should not antagonise the bad ponies with big guns. It was fun of course, but my jaw was paying the price, and this guy hit harder than Bronco.

"Hoof over the filly, now." He warned. Odd, there was no menace to him. This guy had the big guns, the big armour, and the big attitude. Yet, he wasn't scary.

"So what's it like in the Enclave. You get dental?" I said as I eased the pain out of my jaw. There was a bit of a stare down then. He was fighting with himself. Would he choose action or words, personally I hoped for words. I was good at those. Then the sides of his armour split open. So not option B? Wings slipped out of his armour and he was in the air and on me before I could blink. Guy was fast. He drove me into the ground, his hoof on my throat. Though to be honest, I was more concerned with the jagged pebble that started digging into my spine, because that was uncomfortable.

"How?" He demanded. His hoof trembled against my throat. It wasn't rage, he was panicking. He was afraid.

"The way you spoke." I grunted.

A squeal interrupted our conversation and we both looked at the filly. She was staring directly up at the sky with a look of abject terror. A puddle of urine had pooled onto the sand under her. Fucking Stable ponies. She had just noticed the sky. While I had expected this to happen eventually, this was not something I wanted to deal with right now! Her eyes stayed locked onto the sky, as though it might fall on her. Then she vomited onto the ground and collapsed to the ground. She curled up there and whimpered to herself. The idiot should have run for it, but instead she was shivering on the ground in a pool of her own vomit and urine. Her whimpers increased in volume and...Wait, that had a cadence, like a song. Was...was that little bitch singing to herself?! Fuck her. I had a hoof to my throat, and she was singing to herself. Dammit, I'd just have to do my best to ignore it.

"You speak like a wannabe raider". I told the pegasus in answer to his previous question, glancing a again at the filly for a moment. "You try for the tough guy act and it doesn't fool anyone, because here in the Wasteland there are real tough guys that don't need to put on an act. We can all tell the difference. That and you keep asking me to hoof her over." His headed tilted to the side. It reminded me of a confused dog. "You have bucking canons on your saddle, you twit. You could 'a just taken her instead of asking for her. Which means ya're pretty new to this. Also you keep using the word 'hoof' instead of 'hand'. Out here everyone's birds of a feather, even the ones with actual feathers. When your enemies or allies are sometimes undead ghouls and griffins you learn to be a bit all-encompassing in your language to avoid offence. 'Anyone', 'Handing' things over. You get the drift. All are nice signs that say you have _no_idea what you're doing nor any ideas of how to act down here. That and the shiny suit. It screams Enclave." There was that silence again, long and boring as we stared at each other. A silence filled with pitiful sniffles mixed soft singing.

"Shit." He grumbled as he stepped off of me. "Shit, shit, shit." He began pacing. "Now I gotta kill ya."

The filly yelped and the singing stopped. Thank _Celestia_for small mercies. "Well you don't _have_to." I said leisurely as I pulled myself to my hooves.

"Why did you take the filly?" Okay, more questions. I was giving the bird-brain a right dose of exposition it seemed. Still, better than getting shot. He was doing that dog impression of his again too. "Ya know the price pay-out is set right? You get the share of any other slaver that you bring down while they were trying to defect, you took down three. You're looking at a forty-thousand-four hundred cap pay day."

I whistled. "That is a lot of caps." I admitted as my hooves stroked my neck. "But caps aren't a big thing for me."

"But,caps are survival. That's all anypony cares about down here, surviving to the next day." He said. It was like he was trying to convince me.

I gave him a square look. "Well being alive is all well and good, but what's the point if it's not for an ideal. Ya gotta live for something for it to be worth it." I glanced at the filly, her head was turned away and she was trembling. Seriously, was she going comatose? She could have escaped at like, any point during this...seriously, any point, me and the bird brain had been pretty busy with each other.

I got the impression that the pegasus stallion (I liked him even less now that I knew that he was a pegasus by the way, the canons in my face had made me irritable before, but the feathers...oh yeah, gonna kick him up the head when I can) was judging me hard enough that even Stranger would be proud.

"And what is it you live for?" He asked.

"Reputation," I said. "I start a job, I get it done. Right now the job is protecting this filly."

"Seriously? That's it; you're willing to die for a reputation?" He said.

"Well that's the gist of it. It's a bit more complicated than that. Let me explain..." I took a deep breath.

BANG!

The gunshot was quiet, suggesting a lot of distance. The aim was good though, dirt kicked up between us as the shot struck the ground. The pegasus spun in a circle, looking for the shooter. His cannons moved up and down, trying to lock onto a target. "Finally." I sighed in relief. "I thought I was gonna need to keep you talking forever." I grumbled as I turned to the filly.

"Who is that?!" He demanded. "Who's out there?" He really wasn't used to the Wasteland. He scared way too easily.

"The 'who' is Stranger. That's his name. And he's a really good shot." I commented as I inspected the filly. She was rocking back and forth, probably from shock or fear. Maybe both.

"Fuck this." The stallion growled. Then he took a step towards me. BANG! Blood splattered the ground as a bullet sliced through his hoof. He fell. Screamed too. Even cradled his foot like a baby. Definitely not used to pain either. Damn, I thought Enclave pegasus were supposed to be tough.

"Language," I chastised. "There is a filly present. Oh and Stranger uses armour piercing rounds and he's a really good shot. I'm sure I mentioned this." I said before returning my attention to the filly. I nudged her but she didn't move.

"Are you going to kill me?" He rasped, his deep voice shaking from the pain. I glanced back at him clutching his hoof and felt a whisper of pain lance through my own amputated limb. I grit my teeth and shook my head.

"No." He visibly relaxed. "Right now my only crime against the biggest slaver in Equestria is a bit of theft, if that. He'll run after us a bit and then say if he spots us around he'll kill us. But if I kill you, I take out one of his personal pegasus lackeys. That'd probably earn me a pony-hunt all across Equestria filled with all such delicious scenarios as getting shot in the ass a lot." I turned back to the filly. "Smart choice is to let..." What in the? "you..." Umm. "Go...?" What am I looking at? I had pulled the filly from where she was sitting and... huh

"What?" The pegasus asked as I stared down at the spot. That was grass. Grass wasn't unusual. Grass was all over the Wasteland. It was this yellow straw shit with no nutrients and two hundred years of deader than dead. This was real grass. GREEN grass! It was luscious and thick and...only in that spot. I sat to and stared at it. "It's just some grass. It's everywhere." He didn't see the big deal.

"Yeah but its green!"

"What colour should it be? I mean yeah, the rest of it is yellow but, so what? Some is growing." He said.

I gave him a look before I remembered he was Enclave. Enclave used cloud-seeding to feed themselves. A special spell on the cloud cover that allowed them to grow whatever they needed, and I suppose some of it might be grass. "I'm sure they gave you some education before you came down here, but just in case they didn't... Nothing down here grows, and if it does grow it's usually very bad because it's not supposed to. But this is grass. This is green grass. This is-"My ears pricked as I heard something. There was yelling coming from over the hill. Ugh great, seems others have come to investigate. They'd probably heard the gunshots. Perfect, just perfect. No time to waste; I grabbed the filly and threw her over my back. She yelped when I grabbed her, but she stayed on."Gotta go. And oh, if you follow us," I said, turning back to the pegasus. "My friend will put a bullet through your skull. My advice would be to stop the others from following us as well, or there'll be more bodies." He recoiled from me but he nodded.

"Hang on." I told the filly. Then I ran. It wasn't a full sprint because I didn't want to lose the filly, but I ran damn-it.

The grass was shoved to the back of my mind to join a myriad of other questions that were brewing. At least the question was in good company. It had brothers and sisters in there, maybe even a few cousins. Like what was so important in Stable 2B? Why it was even called Stable 2B. Why was the Enclave involved with a slaver like Steam Bolt? How dead was I for doing something this stupid? And my personal favourite, what the fuck was I actually doing with this filly? Ah there was the estranged member of the family.

Life_really_ sucked.

*** *** ***

"Will you PLEASE SHUT UP!"

The Filly would not. stop. crying. She had fionally gotten over the bloody sky, and taken to staring at the ground or walking with her eyes closed. That was until her 'mummy' popped right back to the forefront of her attention. I massaged my temples as I began to get a headache and groaned a silent wish to Celestia to deliver me from a whining filly of all things.

"But my mum! MOTHER!" She screamed again as she pulled against the rope. Okay, so maybe tying her to a rope wasn't the best idea, but she wouldn't stop struggling! Were all fillies this insane?

"Will you please help me?!" I snapped at Stranger. He still carried the unconscious Lucky on his back. He paused and gave me a cryptic look. Well... he wasn't going to do shit. "Great." I grumbled. "I'm not cut out to be a father you know!"

"You're not my father!" The filly cried, hitting my flank with her PipBuck again.

"Ouch, will you bloody stop that! And I'm glad I'm not your father, or you'd get a bloody spanking!" I snapped. She'd figured out that her PipBuck was heavy, thick and not easily broken. So she'd taken to using it to club me whenever she could. After I'd gained a few bruises over my cheeks, I wrapped a rope around her collar and tied it to my waist so I could just drag her along. Now my flank was taking the damage though. Thankfully though, it seemed that my outburst had settled her down. I turned back to see if she had really shut up only for pain to lash through a particularly sensitive area so violently that I almost threw up. I met the ground in a soft and sweet embrace and curled up into the foetal position as my guts tried their best to crawl out through my throat. A yellow and brown blur dashed over me, a chewed through rope trailing behind her as she scampered down the dune. She didn't get very far. A soft tingle was followed by a pleasing yelp told me she'd been caught.

"Let me down!" She screamed. Her legs kicked in the air as she floated in Stranger's magic. I fought with my stomach for a while, trying to keep my breakfast down. When I was sure I wasn't going to hurl, I stood up. Then I reached into my saddlebag to pull out a black box. I flipped the switch on its side. A beeping filled the air, and the filly's collar flashed red. She shut up. Finally.

"Let her go." I said to Stranger. He did, the filly thudded to the ground. "Your collar is armed." I said to her. "I've explained this before, what does the collar symbolise?"

She was shaking. "S-slavery..."

"Very good. And you are wearing one, which makes you my slave. You obey; you live nice and comfortably, you disobey or pull that kind of stunt again..." I flipped another switch and the beeps sped up, to a rapid chirp.

"No! No I'll be good I promise!" She squealed. Tears streamed down her face before dripping to the ground and if she had anything left in her bladder after the last time, I was sure she'd have expelled it. I flipped the switch again and the beeping slowed, before turning the device off. The beeping stopped.

"I am not a slaver." I said while glaring into her eyes. "I don't like the idea, but it is part of the Wasteland. And despite how you feel, I actually am trying to save your life. And if that means I have to make you my slave to do it, then I will. So from here on out, I'm your owner, you'll call me sir or master, and you'll do whatever I say, when I say it. Is that understood?" The filly glared at me. Angry fire and icy terror shimmered in her eyes. I didn't like that look, but what could I do? She wasn't cooperating, so I had to make her. We stayed like that for a while, staring at each other. Then, finally, she nodded. That'd have to do. I stepped over and gently untied her, garnering a quizzical look. "I don't want to have to drag you around is all, but don't try to run, you won't get far. And there are worse people out there than me. Of that I can promise you."

"I doubt that." She mumbled. I was about to remind her that we had just saved her life, but I figured at this point it was probably a pointless discussion. She'd watch me kill other ponies in front of her, knock out the one pony that had been trying to protect her, I'd snapped a slave collar on her, dragged her away from her mother (if her mother was even still alive), and now threatened to kill her. I'd hate me too if I were her.

I looked at Stranger. I made sure my eyes expressed the all of my defiance. Was this what he wanted? Was this what he had imagined when he'd made me save this filly? That I would take her for my own slave? No. He hadn't wanted that. His single blue eye drilled into me with a notion of judgement heavier than I'd seen in a long time. I wasn't deterred. What had he expected of me? We were on the run. Better I own her than somepony else. At least I could try to keep her safe. I turned away from my companion. "Let's find someplace to rest."

We found a rundown shack off the side of a dune. It looked more like a pile of garbage than a shack though. Old carriage pieces, wrenches, and other assorted pieces of crap were strewn about the place. Inside there was a cupboard with three bottlecaps and a bottle of wonderglue, other than that there was a mattress on the floor that would do fine for a bed. "Take the mattress." I told her. She stepped past me and poked at it. At a better time in its life the mattress had probably once been white, but time had stained it red, yellow and black. She looked mortified at the idea of sleeping on the thing.

"Do...do I have to?" She asked.

"It's either the mattress, or the floor. And the floor is worse." I said.

"Where will you sleep?" She asked, sounding almost concerned.

"The floor." She didn't argue after that and curled into a ball on the mattress. "Hey," I began. "Before you sleep, what's your name?"

She didn't answer. Instead turning her back to me.

"What's your name?" I repeated more firmly.

"Sonnet," she answered in a small voice, "Sonnet Bloom."

*** *** ***

Night fell in the Wasteland and with it a cool breeze washed through the yellow straw grass and sandy dunes. The silence of the darkness grew in the night and when paid attention to, the Wasteland, for all its desolation, came alive. Alive with the sound of scuttling radroaches, the squeals and screams of ponies somewhere far off, and the odd gunshot to accompany it. Tonight though, things seemed still.

As the hour drew late and the night cold I watched as Sonnet Bloom began to shiver. Dammit, what was I thinking? I wasn't a father. I wasn't a baby-sitter, and I certainly wasn't a protector. I'd saved her from what? Slaving? I'd made her a slave myself. Why? Because I'm so much better than other slavers? I'm not better than anypony.

She began whimpering and curled in on herself. I undid the straps of my barding, shrugged off the leather outfit and then draped it over the filly. The leather was still warm from my body heat and soon enough her shivering stopped. I starred at her for a moment then looked at Stranger. He was watching me again. With that look of his. "What?" I said sharply. He continued his look for a moment more, and then turned his head away. At the rate he was going, that was a good thing. He and his looks were wearing out their welcome. If this continued, he could fuck off to find someone else to partner up with.

Within an hour or two, the night had grown chill enough to warrant some warmth. Stranger and I decided - or at least, I had- to get a fire started. I bunched some of the dry burnable crap from the small shack together and started up a small fire. The light caused the final member of our company to stir. Lucky Horseshoe's blue eyes squinted against the light of the fire. He was understandably groggy. Heck, I'd be groggy too if someone knocked me out with a blow to the head. He had changed somewhat since I'd known him. He looked older of course, but more so than I'd have expected. His face had deep lines. His brown mane was fraying at the tips and there was a dullness that teased at grey hair to come. He looked haggard. Otherwise, his lime-green coat was pristine. Most ponies sported scars of some sort but Lucky's hide was flawless. Though I hadn't expected anything different.

Lucky picked himself up and began massing his jaw, where a bruise had swelled up."You hit me?" He asked himself more than me. "Is that because you doing so somehow saved me?" He continued, this time directing the question at me. His voice was a monotone sourness that made me grit my teeth.

"I think you'll find in this case, it was less about the benefits of getting hit and more likely because I was tempted to do much worse." I was practically growling.

He contemplated my answer for a moment before shrugging it off. "You're probably right." He stepped towards the door, as if to leave, but stopped mid-step when he noticed the filly. "You...you saved her?" He stepped over to her and pulled back the leather barding gently so as not to wake her. "They collared her?" He asked before looking back at me. I gave him my best glare in response. He looked back at the filly in response. "I see...you collared her."

"I'm sorry, is that disapproval?" I asked, cocking my head in the doggy way the pegasus had, keeping my tone light and casual. "You think you have a right to judge?"

"Slavery isn't right."

"I'm keeping her safe." I countered.

"By strapping a bomb to her neck?" More judgmental looks. "You're right; I can see how that's perfectly safe."

I was on my hooves before I'd realized it. "The ones that wanted her are slavers. So long as she's free she's not safe from them. That collar keeps her in line and will make her listen to me, which means I can keep her safe."

"You always were the one reaching for logic." Lucky said gently. His eyes lost their judgement, instead they were worse...they were full of pity. "The ends justify the means for you. I never taught you that."

"You weren't there to teach me it." He flinched at that.

"I'll stick around." He said. "To make sure you don't fuck her head up."

I scoffed then curled up by the fire. "Yeah," I said while staring into the embers. "And how long before you abandon her too?"

He didn't answer.

I dug into my saddlebag and pulled out a black box. It had a bunch of wires and microchips inside and a port in one end, the wires and chips seemed to be connected to a data cassette. I opened the box up and flipped a small switch, lighting a small green LED light. I lifted out a single black earbloom and closed the box, slipping the bloom into my left ear before curling up. Words filtered through to my ear in low quality.

"-classified into different categories based on structural design. These classifications vary based on proportional weight, moving parts, or the materials used. Most advanced categories for Bridges, are based on the forces of tension, compression, shear, bending and torsion that are distributed throughout their structure..."

*** *** ***

A poke in my side roused me from a deep sleep. I grumbled as light filtered through my eye-lids. Then I stretched as a long drawn-out yawn escaped me."What is it?" I said as I opened my eyes. A gun barrel greeted me. Definitely an interesting wakeup. I looked past the 9mm pistol that was usually stashed in my leather coat, past the gripped bit on the wielders jaw and into the brown eyes of the filly. The weapon was shaking as much as she was. I glanced at Stranger who sat content to watch the show, though with how close he was he was at 'gun-point' as much as I was. Lucky was nowhere in sight from what I could see. Bet he had decided to leave us already, a record time even for him. Not unexpected though.

I fixed the filly with a cool gaze and waited, wondering if she had the guts.

"You didnsh shaph my-" Bang! I'll admit it, I started yelling a little. Ok, maybe I started yelling a lot but you'd be too if a bullet had just punched into your leg. I grit my teeth to shut myself up, but damn that hurt. The filly jumped and yelped jumped. The gun clattered to the floor between us drawing both of our eyes to the weapon. We sat there in silence. She hyperventilated, while I mostly bled onto the floor.

"Pick it up." I commanded, eliciting a meep from her. Her eyes locked with mine, her pupils shrunk to pinpoints. Then she lowered her head hesitantly to grab the weapon. "With your magic, you're a unicorn for buck's sake!" I snapped. She yelped but the gun was wrapped in a gentle yellow glow. The weapon drifted up into the air. "Now", I continued. "Feel around the gun with your magic, carefully, get ready to put pressure on the trigger and aim it here." I pointed to the centre of my head. Damn thing still shook in her grasp, even when held by magic. "Aim for the head when you can, takes ponies down easier. And if you have to use your mouth, don't talk. It is possible to speak around the trigger without shooting someone in the leg," I paused at that statement to punctuate the point. "But for a newbie like you, you need to be as careful as possible." This needed to hurry up; my leg was starting to get cold from the blood loss. I needed a bandage. It took her a moment, but the gun eventually rested on my forehead. "Good... now pull the trigger."

She didn't, instead she asked, "w-why?"

"I own you." I said. "You kill me, grab the control from my bag, unlock your collar, you run away safely, go back to New Appleloosa. Then you can track the ponies that have your Stable friends. You find your mother if she's alive, and then you and her go galloping off into the sunset where she can take care of you. Isn't that what you want? Then pull the trigger." She still shook but I almost smiled when her gaze steadied. She was actually going to do it. Maybe she'd survive after all.

Smash, clang, clang, clatter.

All three of us turned our eyes to the small round apple shaped object that had burst through the window and settled on the floor a few feet away. Ah...fuck me. I turned and bucked Sonnet as hard as I could. I felt a crack under my hooves as a rib collapsed under my blow. The filly flew out a window just as the grenade went off. Everything went white, next I remember I was on the floor next to the wall. A magic shield the colour of Stranger's magic stood where I had been. I guess he had thrown up a hasty shield. Not quick enough, oww by the way, but it had probably saved my life. Now, all I needed to do was worry about the bongos that were pounding in my head, the lovely amounts of pain I was in, and whoever had thrown the grenade. A wall had a large hole in it, and the interior of the shack was destroyed. I heard the soft clatter of another grenade. Fuckity, fuck, fuck! I dove through the hole in the wall while ignoring the copious bodily alerts telling me that I was in no condition to jump. Stranger and I both landed out into the overcast light of the morning, striking dirt and sand just as the shack shook from another internal explosion.

"Well looky here." I coughed on the ground before looking up to a group of three ponies wearing raider armour. The one talking, a yellow stallion with a red and black mane was playing catch-the-grenade with himself, batting the apple-shaped explosive from hoof to hoof. "We struck gold. Would you two happen to be a set of runaway slave-contract herders stealin' the property of one business-stallion by the name of Steam Bolt, would ya?" He spoke with a malicious grin adorned on his face.

"Word travels fast." I grumbled as I got to my hooves. My left leg stung from the gunshot but it looked like the wound had been cauterized, and hey, the rest of my body was hurting now too, so that at least made the gunshot wound easier to ignore. "What's the bounty? Has a price been set?"

"Oh Morab took care of that. Real simple...we get your share. Ten-thousand caps."

I almost chuckled. Morab had skint them. "Oh my share is a bit more than that." I said while stretching a little. I was trying and ease the aches from my damaged body. "We were paid the share of any defectors we took out. I took out three others. My share is worth forty-thousand-four-hundred caps." The raiders started salivating. "But I suppose Morab is being a greedy skint and will be keeping the excess thirty-K all for herself. Pity no-one's getting paid. You killed your prize." I watched them go stiff.

"What?"

"The property was the filly, a young filly with no barding or experience. And you threw grenades at her. She's over there, probably in pieces."

There expressions were delicious as their own stupidity sank in. The lead stallion turned to the others in a panic. "Go check!" They obeyed instantly, running towards the smoking shack that was on the verge of collapsing. The moment their leader turned back to us, my hooves wrapped around him. I'd usually have crushed his windpipe but my prosthetic hoof wouldn't have the strength since the upper leg had a cauterized bullet hole in it, and I couldn't stab the guy because my shiv was in my coat and my coat was in the ruins of a shack. So I settled for choking. My right leg wrapped around his throat and pulled back hard. Sadly choking isn't nearly as silent as some would have you believe. He kicked and gurgled, and his lackeys turned back with raised weapons. I turned his body towards them as they began to fire. I was without barding, and I had already taken one bullet. I didn't want another. I charged forward with my meat shield. They fired a few shots that I felt through the leader, but their attack halted as I heard a clattering. Stranger had released their ammo clips.

I threw the limp corpse of their leader at one of them and then attacked the other. I kicked his gun up, knocking the bit into his mouth. Then I slugged him in the face as hard as I could with my good hoof causing him to drop the gun. I ducked down, grabbed the weapon and its ammo, slammed the ammo clip home and then turned the stallion to a bloody mess as I filled him full of bullet holes. When the gun clicked empty, things were silent but for my panting. I turned to find Stranger wiping blood off his horn; the bandages on his face were stained with a little more red. He had skewered the other raider on his horn...classy.

I dug through their pockets. Three caps were found between the two dead henchponies and only four caps on the yellow stallion. They'd been poor; no wonder they had been drooling over the reward. Among the yellow stallions possessions I also found a note.

'The stallion known as 'Tome Tale' is in possession of a slave that is, by rights and property, owned by Steam Bolt the Slaver. The recapture of the slave and the elimination of Tome Tale and his partner, will grant the bearer of the slave Tome Tale's previous contract share of ten-thousand caps. Please return the slave to Morab Arts, New Appleloosa.'

Slimy bitch.

If she was going to put a bounty on my head she could at least be honest with the reward instead of swindling caps out of ponies. Of course slavers in general weren't a good example of morality and fairness, but when it came to doing a job for caps honesty was important. Even slavers had families to look after. And swindling them was just as bad as swindling anyone else. At least it was to me.

I pocketed the note and made a mental memo to repay Morab if I ever got the chance. I trotted back to the hole in the shack. It was surprising the place hadn't come down yet. It was a wreck. Stranger had managed to pry his sniper rifle from under some rubble. I couldn't see his face but there was a change in his posture that spoke of displeasure. Hopefully the gun was okay. I found my leather barding under a fallen beam. After tugging it free I slipped it on. It was a little torn and weathered now, but in better condition than I had any right to complain about. Speaking of complaints, I was hearing singing again.

I stepped back out of the shed to find Sonnet Bloom sprawled on the ground with a bruised hide. She had curled in on herself. "Are you alright?" I asked. She just hugged herself and sang. As she sang her horn began to glow a shimmering yellow. I reached for a healing potion; I was sure I'd broken something with that kick. I didn't complete the motion though.

Grass was growing again.

Bathed in her magic light, I watched as the ground around her grew a greener and begin to sprout new grass. "Oh my Luna." I whispered

"Holy Celestia," said another voice.

For a moment I thought maybe Stranger had spoken, but it hadn't had the depth of his voice. I looked up and my eyes met the red eyes of another raider, this one with a grey hide. Shit, I'd missed one.

"Stranger quick!" I yelled.

The pony's eyes widened and he turned to gallop away. Stranger took aim with his rifle scope and pulled the trigger when he had the pony dead to rights.

Click.

Click.

Huh...

I turned to Stranger as he lowered his rifle and looked at it with a steely gaze that I didn't ever want aimed at me. The rifle was busted. Fuck.

I turned back to the stallion just in time to see his hide disappear over a dune. Double shit, and we weren't in any condition to give chase.

I looked down at the filly who kept singing. I liked to think of myself as a curious fellow, the kind of guy that enjoyed solving mysteries and learning lots about lots of things. I could disassemble and reassemble most guns. I was a bit of a whiz around computer systems-most of the time (hey, that time back at the dam was NOT my fault). I could pick locks, shoot a pistol and some rifles, though don't hand me anything that rapid fires, I'd probably shoot myself if I'm not point blank to who I'm killing. And despite being an earth pony, I could probably give a unicorn some basic lessons on magic. I'd read the books. I knew the theory. I'd learned that shit. But THIS SHIT...

I heard a sound behind me and whirled around with the shiv of my coat in my mouth. The guy was Lucky, lucky by name and lucky I didn't kill him. The green stallion looked from us, to the corpses, to the destroyed shack, then back to the filly lying on a patch of miraculous green grass. "I went for a shit...did I miss something?" He looked confused.

I looked away from him and back down to the whimpering filly whose song had turned into an incomprehensible hum. Lush grass that the Wasteland hadn't seen in two hundred years grew around her.

...What book should I have read for this?

*** *** ***

She wasn't talking to me. I'd tried peppering her with questions about her strange power, where she'd gotten it, whether it was a spell or natural ability or some kind of curse or otherworldly magic, but she refused to give me an iota of her attention.

The questions were just an attempt at distraction though; I was worried about that stallion. He had seen us and if there were any ponies that believed him, then there'd be more than a few new bounties on our heads. Her ability was quite astonishing. I'd taken a sniff of the grass she'd made and even given it a bit of a nibble. It was horribly plain. I had no idea how our ancestors had eaten it in the past but apparently it had been a common practice. Unlike the yellow grass common to the wastes this stuff didn't turn my stomach. Hopefully that meant it wasn't radioactive, because I had filled up on the stuff.

We were several miles from New Appleloosa now, heading to what I had guessed to be the west. I didn't have a compass on me so I wouldn't know for sure until we'd passed some landmarks. Though, the travel had a few saving graces. The filly had finally settled down. A marked improvement when compared to the last leg of our trip. Though I wished she would talk to me. Seriously though, between the moody filly, grumpy Lucky, and silent Stranger, I was beginning to miss the arguing. I was starting to pray for a raider attack, just to break the boredom."Will you please talk to me; I'm going crazy with the quiet here." I snapped. She turned her nose up at me. Well, that was a reaction at least. She was a strange filly, one moment she had this mature air about her, then the next she was just a normal petulant child. Weird, but at least some part of her was normal. I mean, she couldn't be all weird, right?

"We can talk if you want." Lucky said from behind me.

"Shut it." I growled. I'd take a raider attack over a conversation with him. Then, when I realized where we were, a conversation with Lucky suddenly seemed like a really pleasant idea. We had strayed slightly north in our travels. I stopped walking as I took in the structure in front of us. It was a towering construct of broken cables and concrete, the remains of a large bridge highway (an arch bridge if the lack of centre piers were any indication) that had spanned the entire Equestrian northern-west. The lower ramparts were filled with hollow crevices and maintenance rooms. Perfect for housing raiders.

"We need to get out of here." I said as I turned south.

"What's going on?" Sonnet said.

"This is slaver territory, we need to..." Shit. I watched as a procession of cackling stallions and mares crawled out of the ruins. They wore spiked leather barding stained with blood and gore. "Stranger, be ready, Lucky, stay back, Sonnet...behind me." I hadn't expected the filly to actually obey, but she did, jumping behind almost eagerly. "And no singing." I grunted at her. She bit her lip for a moment before biting down on my tail instead. Odd, maybe the singing was conditioned into her. Just another question to add to the list.

"Looky here," said a mare from the front of the raider pack. She had a crème coat and a blood red mane. I could see her teeth were stained and damaged from a lack of oral hygiene. Her eyes darted to each of us in turn, appraising us.

I looked around for an escape route, but more were climbing out of hidden crevices. We were already surrounded. I counted twelve, but more could be hiding. I turned back to Sonnet and leaned into her ear and whispered, "Whatever I say or do here, I'm sorry; I'm trying to save all our lives." Then I grabbed her collar in my mouth and threw her out to my side. "Stay there and shut up." I bellowed. I turned towards the pack leader and gave her my most winning smile. "A pleasure, my lady, and who might you be?" I made a point of looking her over with an appreciative gaze. It wasn't hard to pull off; under that gore she was quite pretty.

The mare glanced from me to the filly's slave collar, "she yours?" I imagine we looked odd together. Especially Stranger. His presence had a habit of putting ponies on edge. Nopony liked surprises here in the Wasteland, surprises got you killed. And a stallion dressed head to hoof in bandages whilst wearing a large coat tended to be worth a little weariness. "Something wrong with your friend there?"

I glanced back at Stranger. "Burn victim, hates the scars, likes to keep them covered." I lied. Stranger gave me a look. I don't think my explanation was the one he would have chosen. What? Did he want me to tell the truth? Buck that.

"Huh, fair enough." she said. I watched the mare as her eyes ran over the filly. "She looks fresh. Do you mind if I look her over?" She wasn't really asking. It was a courtesy; we were surrounded with more than enough guns to take us all out. I gave her a curt nod and stepped back. Sonnet trembled as the mare approached and reached down. She inspected Sonnet's barding and the cutie-mark, and then she looked over her hooves. "A PipBuck," she said with a light knock against the device. "Fresh from a Stable then?"

"Yup."

"Stable 2B?" She asked as she read the label on Sonnet's barding. "Never heard of a 'B' before."

"Yeah, me either." I said with a light chuckle. "Interesting operation you got here. Any chance you can let us pass? Unless you know...you wanted to lock me up too?" I said with a pouty look.

"That is tempting." The mare said as she batted her eyes at me. "But...there's a problem."

_ _

Fuck.

"There is?" I gave her the most innocent expression I could manage.

"Oh yes," the mare said. "You see, there was an emergency broadcast sent out from New Appleloosa not fifteen minutes ago. From one Morab Arts." Fuck a duck with a rusty spoon. "And she's after a young filly with a PipBuck from Stable 2B. Apparently stolen by a stallion and his silent companion. Part of some contract with Steam City. She even increased the bounty. Fifteen-Thousand Caps. So we'll be taking this filly off your hooves. But don't worry, we're not gonna kill you." Good news? "We're going to sell you to Steam Bolt for extra." Nevermind, bad news. Very bad news.

*** *** ***

The straw I laid on was hard, coarse and felt rough against the coat. It was better than rock and metal for sure, but when the straw was filled with bedbugs things became debateable. The small container we were in was just a cage on wheels - 'we' being myself, Lucky and Stranger. They'd taken Sonnet somewhere else. Our weapons and bags had been taken as well and they'd even detached my prosthetic hoof.

I looked down at the scarred stump. I felt pain coursing through a limb that didn't exist anymore. They hadn't taken my coat at least, and while they had tried to remove Stranger's bandages. A few broken muzzles had persuaded them otherwise. Though they'd taken Lucky's hat for some reason. Maybe so they could say they came away with something for their efforts.

Speaking of Lucky, he wouldn't shut up. "Can I ask something?"

"No you can't." My reply was curt.

"It's about your leg."

"Especially not about that." I snapped.

"What happened-"

I turned and swung at him, but missed him by inches; my hoof struck a metal bar instead. The metal vibrated and my hoof went numb from the pain. Celestia dammit. I shook the aching limb while mentally cursing him. "Shut up about it. I did what I had to do, that's all you need to know."

He stared at me for a moment. I hated that gaze, it was filled with pity. I turned away from him. "It's bad, isn't it?" He almost sounded concerned.

"I can deal." I said in a low voice. I could deal. I had so far. A slight roiling inside me reminded me of just how well I was 'dealing' with it. I could lie to everypony, but my gut always told me when I was also lying to myself.

Glorious silence fell then. It wasn't a pregnant silence though, more contemplative. Lucky wasn't going to ask any more questions so I could finally curl up on the straw and try to drown the world out with my -damn - they'd taken my player when they took my stuff. "Hey!" I called out to the guard that stood near the guard. "I need something from my bags."

"Shut the fuck up." The guard said. Bastard hadn't even bothered to look up.

"It's not a weapon or anything; it's a small black box with an earbloom. It's just something to listen to, please." I said while looking around. They'd housed us inside of the bridge. It was larger than expected, but I could still see light filtering in through a doorway to our right. From the look of it, it would be getting dark soon. I really didn't want to go a night without my player.

"Fuck your shit. Now shut up." The guard growled gruffly.

"Seriously, I need my player. It's just something to listen to, can't you give me that at least, I won't ask for anything else."

The guard sighed, and then heaved himself around. He opened his mouth to say something. BANG! BANG! BANG! He shut it, and we both turned to look at the door.

"What the-?!" The guard turned and ran to the entrance but his head exploded before he took a step. The guard's corpse collapsed to the ground. Then a brown earth pony with a crème mane padded over his body. The stallion stowed his gun and gave us a wide smile as he approached.

"Don't worry, I got ya." He was young. He pulled out a bobby pin and screwdriver. He raised his eyes and almost dropped his tools. "Holy bugger! Are you..." He was looking past me at Stranger. I stepped out of the way to let him get a better look, "...are you...no you can't be." He said before he got to work on the lock. Didn't take the kid long, he had the gate open within moments. "Names Bobby Pin." He said while turning to show off the cutie mark on his rump. It was an image of three bobby pins standing on their points beside a screwdriver.

"Tome Tale. Thank you." I said as I stepped out of the cage. "Was this all you? How'd you get through...?"

"What? No!" The colt said as he laughed and shook his head. "Do I look like I could'a galloped in all guns blazing. I'd like ta, but nah, I'm just one of the gang. An important part." His need add that last part made me question the statement.

"Gang?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, outside. Here we go." He trotted off with the expectation that I would follow. Stranger, Lucky and I stepped through the door. The small encampment the slavers had made under the bridge was big. When they'd dragged us through it we'd glimpsed a few cooking areas and tented areas, as well as a pen that had been filled with more than ten other slaves. All of them were emaciated so I suspected they'd been kept in there a while. But now, as we passed them again I gagged. Most of their heads were gone. For those that still had a head, it hung limply by a thin stretch of flesh. It was a gore fest.

"What happened?"

"Oh that." The said nervously. "The head slaver guy was a bit stubborn, wouldn't give up the slaves, so he made sure to take them all with 'im when we tried to stop 'im." The boy stared at the ground with his head lowered as he said this.

"At least you tried. It's more than most." They were hypocritical words. I was one of those that wouldn't try. I had my reasons not to try. It wouldn't do shit for the Wasteland, and certainly not for me. But I felt it was something the boy maybe needed to hear.

"Yeah." He said, giving a light smile." Come on, I'll introduce you to the others." He led us (me limping on three hooves) through the camp to where five other ponies stood, four adults and one of them a filly younger than Bobby Pin. The filly was barely into her teens, if that. But it wasn't the young one my eyes lingered on. It was the leader. I recognised him.

A hulk of a pony, he stood a full head above myself, he was taller than even Stranger, if only by a few inches. He wore heavy looking armour decorated with metal plates over his right shoulder and over his torso and back. The armour looked heavy and impressive but what really got me was the gun he carried. It was a large shotgun with a huge barrel, with a bottom mounted grenade launcher. An Ironshod Firearms 'Judgment' Anti-Personnel Shotgun. It was rumoured firing it from the mouth would break a ponies jaw. Only one pony matched his size, dress, and armament.

Buckshot of the Buckshot Gang.

They were heroes in the southern wastes. Buckshot, the leader, had a white mane that was a stark contrast to his dusty crimson coat, his cutiemark was hidden by his heavy barding, and he was bigger than any other pony I'd seen. Beside him, dwarfed in comparison, stood a stallion that was thin and, by the look of him, quick; he was a unicorn with a blond mane and a dark grey coat. His cutiemark was a rifle. Ranger. Beside them was a blue mare with an equally blue mane, though half her mane was a vivid red. Her cutiemark was an explosion. Vanilla Milkshake. The fourth was a pegasus Dashite named Dusty Feathers. He was a turquoise green-blue with brown eyes. The tips of his wings looked to have been dyed a crimson red. He had goggles atop his head, flattening back a steely blue spiked mane. He was armed with a battle saddle that looked less like guns and more like canons attached to the underside of his wings. The last member of the group was the young filly. She seemed at least two to three, maybe a young looking five years older than Sonnet was. Her light grey coat was offset by her light brown eyes and messy blue two-toned mane. She wore a cobbled together set of armour that had no taste for aesthetics. I couldn't see her cutie mark either and I had no idea what her name was. Bobby Pin moved to join his five companions, making them a group of six.

"The Buckshot Gang." I commented, looking them all over. "Well this is a surprise." I approached slowly, still limping without my prosthetic hoof. "I thought you guys operated in the south."

Buckshot spat out a reed he'd been chewing before speaking to me. "We figured we'd give the north a run, heard this end had a bit of a slaver problem."

"If you're eager to take down slavers, why not cut them off at the source and storm Fillydelphia." I challenged. I couldn't help it, my mouth just started flapping. Someday it'd get me killed, I was sure of it. In this case though, I just didn't like his hypocrisy, even if I was a hypocrite myself.

Buckshot stuck me with glare before he approached. Huh, it was interesting having to crane my neck to look eye to eye with another pony, interesting and slightly terrifying. "In time," he said, and then turned away. "We've got a lot of work to do before then. You're welcome by the way, for the rescue that is."

"Thank you. We're obliged." I said while I remembered my manners.

"Bet you are." Said as he glanced back at us, but his eyes shifted from me to Stranger. "By Luna's tail..." He turned to face us again. "Would that be a 'Stranger' I see?"

I glanced behind me at my silent companion. "Yes it is. You know him?"

"By reputation." The stallion grinned as he approached. "When I was younger he was a big shot." He stood before Stranger and the two looked eye to eye. But Buckshot didn't look like he wanted to pick a fight. He sat in front of Stranger and just kinda took him in. "You were my hero back then. You were great. You inspired me."

"I didn't want to be a hero." Stranger's voice was always novel to hear.

"That's what made you one, mate. You didn't want nothin' but for ponies to respect each other. You saved lives. I wouldn't be the stallion I am today if it weren't for you. Thank you."

"I didn't want 'thanks' either." Wow, two sentences from Stranger in less than a minute. Where's my camera?

They stared at each other for a moment before a yell behind them broke up this homo-romantic moment of idle worship. I turned to see Bobby Pin again. At some point in the conversation he must have slipped away, kid was light-hooved. He was struggling with a particular little filly.

"LET ME GO!" Sonnet squealed as she swung her PipBuck at the poor colt.

"I'm trying to help you! We're saving you!" He barely got the words out before the PipBuck struck him in the nose. He fell backwards onto his rump and held his nose. Blood dripped down from it. "Ouch!"

"I've had enough of being saved!" She squealed in fury as she raised her hoof again

"Sonnet!" I snapped. She froze and turned to meet my eyes. Her hoof dropped down to her collar. She ran the hoof over the collar as if it to make sure it was still there and wouldn't go off. She stayed that way for a moment before she dropped her hoof back to the ground and made her way to us. She hung her head the whole way, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Who's this?" A new voice asked. I turned to see Ranger stepping forward; he looked over the filly curiously.

"She was out back; her collar didn't go off, Ranger." Bobby Pin announced, still holding his nostrils shut with his hoof as he approached. "Must be broken, saved her life."

"Stand back." Buckshot said. "Vanilla. You're up". Ranger and Bobby Pin kept their distance as the mare of the group stepped forward.

"Hold still, honey." She said with a kind smile, reaching for her collar. She looked over the main explosive pack. "Nope, this collar's active." She said. "Whoever owns her, it wasn't the same buck as the last ones."

"Stallion," I corrected habitually. "And she's mine." All eyes turned to me.

"Repeat?" Buckshot growled.

"I said she's mine. I own her." My honesty was going to get me killed. And to emphasise that point, guns were pointed at me for the second time today. How lovely.

"He's with me." Stranger said. Wow, three sentences from him, was today my birthday?

"Stranger? Why are you hanging out with a slaver?" Buckshot asked. His voice dripped with disgust.

There are a few particular notions in life that should be understood. One being the importance of emotional situation and how certain events can shape a pony's mind. For instance, anger. Anger and a sense of righteousness, can make a pony do incredibly horrible things. Anger comes in many forms. Passionate anger caused by a loved one. Anger from grief could also be a powerful motivator, but all of these are simplistic; they were just an explosion of emotion and action. There is, however, a different form of anger that builds methodically. The anger of a pony disappointed in their hero.

A hero is important. They can inspire, and shape a pony. Seeing a hero fall to evil can do some cruel things to a ponies mind. I saw that here. I saw that in Buckshot's eyes. How far had Stranger fallen in those eyes? I saw it, the moment where it clicked. His hero was worthless. Stranger's answer to that question would determine if Buckshot and his gang saw us as allies... or enemies. And I really, really hoped we were allies.

"Tome Tale is not a slaver. He simply has the filly under collar. He can explain his reasoning." Great. Wonderful work Stranger. Our life hung on a thread, and you shove the responsibility up MY ass. Prick.

Buckshot locked his eyes on me. I though him scary before. Now though I was trying not to wet myself.Thank Celestia I was good at talking. "To defuse the situation," I began. "I pose to you a question of my own. Tell me, what are the chances, capabilities, and constitution of a Stable pony, upon first leaving said Stable and entering the Wasteland? How good are their chances of survival?"

Buckshot was ready to shoot me. I could see it in those eyes, but thankfully, he was willing to play a little ball for now. "Little to none. They're usually stupid, unlucky, and get killed in their first day."

"And that's an adult, yes?" I enquired.

"Yes. Are you saying she is a Stable pony?"

I nodded in reply. "You can tell from how clean she is and the Stable barding." He didn't look convinced. "Her entire Stable was culled and I saved her." That was mostly true, it was really Stranger that had made me.

Ranger spoke up. "And you put the collar on her, why, to control her?"

"She was unruly." I explained. "She was trying to save her mother, who is likely dead. I couldn't get her to stop, and she would have gotten killed without me. So to save her, I had to collar her. Also, when I grabbed her we were around other slavers, if I hadn't collared her they would have grown suspicious. I figured I could use it rather than take it off. It's good incentive for her to not run off and get herself killed."

"So to save her life, you threaten to kill her if she misbehaves." Vanilla said as she stepped over to Sonnet. She wrapped her hooves around the filly protectively, giving me a look the entire time. If looks could kill, this mare would have had me disembowelled by now. She thought I was filth. Sonnet nuzzled into the older mare's chest. She stayed that way, trembling.

"That's what I tried to tell him." Lucky chimed in.

I ignored him. "It's worked so far." I replied. "When she relaxes and stops trying to get herself killed, when she matures and learns to handle herself in the Wasteland, I'll take it off. I'm not a slaver."

"No, you're not." Buckshot growled as he walked past me. "You're not a slaver, you're just an asshole." He glanced at the filly. "Or a monster, I dunno which yet."

"You gonna kill us then?" I probably shouldn't have asked, but... mouth, flappy, can't help it.

"No." Buckshot gave me a look. Anger broiled in me and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying anything. I really fucking hated the judgement in his eyes. "You're not worth it."

The Buckshot Gang turned away from us and walked further into the slaver camp.

"We'll stay here tonight." Buckshot's words seemed inviting, so Lucky, Stranger and I followed. Sonnet clung to Vanilla's side.

We made camp there. I found my gear and refitted myself as we bunkered down in the slaver's tents. My prosthetic hoof was among my things. I fitted it on, tightened the locks and grunted as the metal clenched into place. It was tight today. I tested my weight on it then laid back down to look over it. The scars that ran from the edge of the stub all the way up my foreleg were still visible. My gut stirred, and I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat. How long would it take?

I looked up from my mutilated leg and over to Vanilla who sat a few tents away way from me with Sonnet curled up next to her. She was reading from a children's book, I didn't know where she'd found it, but Sonnet seemed to find comfort in it. It was sweet to watch them.

A monster huh? Maybe I was. I slipped the earbloom of my player into my ear and curled up.

"-towards the end of Celestia's fourth Century. The advancements after that came less in the form of structural arrangements, and more within the materials and refinements used. Methods of metal purification became much more refined, which in-turn gave birth to much more durable alloys of various uses."

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: Tricks Are For Kids - +10 durability towards explosions. You can now react much faster to the presence of grenades, landmines, and other things that go boom. This also gives you better dialogue options when dealing with a pony that specialises in explosives.

(Authors Note: And this is the second chapter. I hope you like where this is going, so far none of these events are random so please don't think I don't have a direction, I VERY much know where I'm going with this. As before, I'd like to give special thanks to Kkat for making Fallout: Equestria a thing, a special thanks to my editor for his amazing editing work. Without him, this would probably be a shit story.

Comment and subscribe. J)

(Editor's Note: That guy ^ is too modest and sorry for the delay folks. Was my fault that it took so long to get this story and the previous published. Had to have a certain somebody smack me with a newspaper a few times to finish up the editing for Chapter 2 and the foreword.

Things took an interesting turn of events here, and I for one want to know how the relationship between Vanilla and Sonnet will turn out. I haven't seen Chapter 3 yet, but my forecast is blood with a chance of tears.

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