“What? Why are you being branded?”
“I-I told you that I can’t tell you Anchor,” I said. His hooves were on my shoulder, which was more than enough for some of those hidden emotions to come forth. “I did something stupid. I can’t take it away and they don’t want me around anymore. What I did… it might possibly hurt everypony here.”
Having to tell Anchor about the council’s decision was hard. Even if he hid it, I could feel a bit of judgment in his words and tone. He never judged me before, or at the very least he hadn’t ever judged me so harshly before. The tone of his voice held the same disappointment that I had given to other soon-to-be Dashites. Being on the other side of it all almost made me feel bad for how I treated them.
Almost.
Just like five years earlier, tears were falling down my face. I had told Anchor before telling the kids, hoping he would have some idea how to explain. What was I going to say to them? I couldn’t promise them I was coming back, cause I wasn’t. Most Dashite’s didn't have this chance, and it was probably some form of a blessing. Less to regret on their way down to the surface.
“I understand if you hate me. I’ve been bad,” I replied, head hung in shame. “If you want, I’ll leave. It’s what I deserve for betraying the Enclave, and for betraying you.”
“Singing…” He whispered, letting go of my shoulders. He stumbled back, shook his head. He refused to meet my eyes. “I’m not… forgive me, I’m having a hard time processing all this. I’m really never going to see you again?”
“Yeah. Never again,” I muttered.
We could both hear Rainy Day and Clear Skies playing outside our room. Their joy, while usually a cure to our sadnesses, hurt in that moment. My hind legs collapsed under me, both of us staying silent as we tried to work through what was happening. I was waiting for him to tell me to leave, because who in their right mind would want a Dashite for a wife.
What I didn’t expect was for him to come back in for another hug. It got the tears going again, and I wrapped my hooves around him. I didn’t understand why he was being good to me, especially when he had sounded so judging earlier. Everything in me told me that he was making no sense.
“Why? Why aren’t you telling me to leave?” I asked through tears and stuttery breath.
“Because Dashite or not, I love you,” Anchor answered. “I’m not gonna hurt you like that, not when you clearly are already in pain. What kind of husband would I be if I did that?”
“Thank you,” I said. As our hug continued, my eyes looked to our bed. This was the last chance I would likely ever have to do this with him, and I didn’t want to lose it. “Hun, before we tell the kids, would you be up for… a small session?”
He pulled away so we could look face to face. The look in his eyes made it clear what he was thinking. He wanted to but… he was worried about me. Worried that what I wanted in this instance isn't the right thing. That worry came through in the next few words he said.
“Are you sure?”
I gave a nod, doing my best to force a smile onto my face. Anchor helped me to my hooves, and before we moved to our bed we kissed. It was our last kiss, and one that I still think about all this time later. Then, he led me to our bed, and he tackled me down. What we did then is too private, somewhat embarrassing, and messy for me to ever talk about. Some ponies are open about their sex life.
I’m not one of those ponies.
When we finished we both laid in bed, exhausted and staring at each other. His beautiful hazel eyes still lay there in my mind's eye to this day. It helps me get to sleep sometimes, and other times it helps me cry. It was probably the most important night of my life, but not the best one. I’m not quite sure what I would consider the best night above the clouds.
“Singing. Do you want us to come down with you?” Anchor asked me. If I wasn’t tired I likely would have raised my eyes. “I’m sure it would be better than, you know, never seeing you again.”
“Hun, the wasteland isn’t a place for foals,” I reminded him, leaning into his chest a little. “I would love it but… Rainy and Clear deserve a better place to call home.”
“What they need is their mother there, by their side,” Anchor told me, wrapping one hoof around my back. “They’re gonna be devastated about not having you around any longer.”
“And I’ll miss all of you, but I just can’t take the chance of them getting hurt down there,” I said, shaking my head. “Rainy is nine, and Clear is only six. Bringing them both down to the wasteland would be a big mistake.”
“Then, when they are older, perhaps,” He said. “When they are old enough, we will join you down there. Does that work?”
I stayed quiet for a time, feeling Anchor gently caress my back with his hoof. I was more than ready to fall asleep on top of him, hoping to find out everything was a dream. It wasn’t, and I knew that back then no matter how much I tried to fool myself. Perhaps that was why, as I drifted to sleep on top of Anchor, I gave him an answer.
“Yes. That… would be fine.”
----------------------------------------
Trotson Grand Hotel
Day 1
Every single cell in my body hurt.
That was how bad waking up that night was. Of course I had no idea at the time it was night, as when Gold had jabbed me it was still daylight. I was also on the sandy ground back then, paved road under my hooves and making falling asleep on it very uncomfortable. I’m surprised I wasn’t burned from the scorching heat on the hard black road.
The first thing I realized outside of how everything felt on fire, was that I wasn’t lying on the pavement. It wasn’t comfortable, but whatever I was on seemed decently soft. I think there was also a spring poking my rear, but I didn’t bother to check when I finally opened my eyes. Everything else about my current whereabouts was more confusing.
When last I had been awake, I had been outside with the city before me. Now all I saw was a pillow and the wall it was leaning against. I was inside, and in my sleep idled state I had no idea why I was. Thankfully, according to the E.F.S at the bottom of my vision, there weren't any hostiles around. I could wake up at my own speed.
At least I would have been able to, if I hadn’t noticed said E.F.S.
My brain completely woke up, and then my body followed after me. My eyes didn’t take notice of what was in the world around me, but what shouldn’t have been in it. An Eyes Forward Sparkle system found typically in power armor and PipBucks was in my vision. It shouldn’t have been there, because I saw no PipBuck on my hooves and I certainly didn’t have my old power armor. The E.F.S being there made absolutely zero sense.
“What the fuck,” I said, waving my hoof in front of my face. It was then that I remembered how I had ended up asleep in the first place. “That griffin. What in the world did he put in me?”
It had to be Golds' fault. It was the only thing I could think of that made sense. Whatever he had put in that syringe must have made me some sort of walking PipBuck. That was the only real explanation I could give, and even that felt like it made no sense. Still, in terms of things a grounder could have done to me, that was probably one of the better ones. Knowing whether ponies had hostile intent or not was important, and an E.F.S was a shortcut to finding that out.
With my current predicament made more strange and confusing, I turned to look around where I was. It was a hotel room. There were two large windows with the glass long since shattered, a decent-sized bed, a few chairs, and a desk. It seemed to be a decent number of floors off the ground too. The view from the window gave me a wide glance at Trotson, even if the sun had set and the moon had risen. Not gonna lie, it was actually quite gorgeous.
After looking around a bit, I found my saddlebags and novasurge rifle underneath the desk. Checking the saddlebags, I found my extra cylinders for the rifle and the hoof radio. It seemed Gold had the manners to at least not take my things with him. It just made his actions feel even stranger than they already were. What had been the point of doing any of this to me?
I think I was starting to see why Odka said pegasi had a tendency to disappear in Trotson.
I gave my rifle a quick check, just to make sure Gold hadn’t mangled it in any way. Thankfully, that did not seem to be the case; everything was where it was supposed to be and going the right way. That meant I wouldn’t need to scavenge for replacement parts. There was some sand in it, but not enough to do any real damage. Even if it did, novasurge rifles were easy to maintain and fix up. That was why they were the standard issue rifle of the GPE.
I put it back together, tossed on my saddlebags and made my way over to the window. I leaned out, spreading my wings to be ready to fly, and then noticed something felt wrong. I looked back to my wings to see that, much to my dismay, many feathers had been plucked. Most of them were primaries. If everything else hadn’t made it clear something funny was up. All of which point to the one thing watching over all of Trotson – and likely myself – at this very moment.
“Shadow Corp. That griffin had to be working for them,” I said to myself. I turned my head away from the window, took a few steps, and then put a hoof to my head. “Whatever they did to give me this E.F.S must be an experiment of theirs. So the entire city is, as we thought, their personal testing grounds. Given they have control of the S.P.P. tower…” I looked out of the corner of my eyes to the desk. “Yeah, I’m being watched.”
It certainly wasn’t comfortable knowing ponies had eyes on me when I couldn’t see them, but I could deal with it. I was a soldier; privacy was a rare commodity, at least before I became an officer. You get used to somepony watching you at all times. Whether said pony was of a lower or high rank didn’t really matter that much, because there was always at least one other pony around.
I turned my attention to getting out of wherever I was. As if feeling my mind's desire to know said location, my entire vision was suddenly consumed by that of a map. I flinched, blinked several times, then shook my head. On the one hoof, I could now confirm I was in what remained of the Trotson Grand Hotel. On the other, I had just found that Gold hadn’t just given me some form of natural E.F.S.
He had put an entire PipBuck in my brain! Actually somewhat impressive, but I knew my mind had to be on getting out at the moment. I banished the thought that Shadow Corp’s technology was somewhat intriguing and tried to figure out how to get the map out of my vision. If it was small I wouldn’t mind but everything I saw was encompassed in a neon green map. Finding the mental off switch was a priority.
A priority that took five minutes to figure out. Shorter than Shadow Corp probably expected, longer than I had hoped.
With that squared away I turned my attention to the door out of the hotel room. It opened with a horrid creaking sound that filled my eardrums, but I refused to let a simple as that stop me from moving forward. Walking out of the room and into the hotel hallway, I found that whatever floor I was on seemed to be rather intact. The idea I was just on the less crumbled side of the hotel didn’t hit me till later.
I watched the area around me carefully as I moved up. None of the doors moved, and there weren't any obvious threats such as radroaches or bloatflies. As far as I could tell there weren’t any shifters either, but after the station I wasn’t gonna take any chances. Anything I saw that looked even the slightest bit clean was eyed heavily as I made my way passed it. Being poisoned by shapeshifting radioactive bugs didn’t sound like a pleasant way to go.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
I kept my eyes open for a set of working stairs. There had been a door to a stairway halfway down the left side but it wasn’t usable. Not if I didn’t want to plummet and break several limbs, that is. Outside of that stairway each of the doors had been locked, meaning either nopony had bothered to break them down since the Balefire Bombs struck Equestria or Shadow Corp didn’t see whatever was in there. For the moment, that was fine; I had come to Trotson to take care of Angel Hair, not look at secrets that could get me killed.
As I turned the corner into the next part of the hallway, I saw a door that was slightly ajar on the left side. I quickly made my way to it, and then looked to make sure the door hadn’t been trapped at all. No string seemed to be attached, so at the very least opening the door wouldn’t set off a grenade or something.. I kicked the door open, ready to bolt to either side of the wall in case anything shot at me. What met me instead was silence, which I perhaps should have expected. I doubted any creature would go up that high to find its daily meal, which would likely be me given the amount of things in the Equestrian Wasteland that seemed to want us dead.
I stepped into the room and scanned it over, eyes stopping at what I saw laying on the desk. It was a statuette – her statuette to be specific – laying on its side and rolling a bit. I stared at it, and somehow I knew that it was staring back at me. I wrote it off as a side effect of Gold putting a PipBuck in my head, and stood on my hind hooves. I could mentally feel her looking at me with wide, terrified eyes as I aimed my rifle at her with dulled anger and hate. Without a second of hesitation, I fired.
The traitor’s statuette, or at least the part of it showing the pony who had betrayed the Enclave, was turned to nothing but ash. Everypony knew why the term ‘Dashite’ had stuck, and what the pegasi it was named after had done. It was one thing to have her own cutie mark stuck on me for the rest of my life, but to see a pony-made toy of her was sickening. Dashite or not, I was and always will see myself as a part of the Enclave; whatever blessing she wished to give me was unwanted.
“I’m not like you,” I whispered as I turned back to the door and walked out. “Your judgment means nothing, because I still fight for the Enclave. What loyalty is there in a pony who abandons her own?”
----------------------------------------
The next set of stairs I found had thankfully been intact. Not completely intact, but I could get to the next floor. Before heading down I smashed the glass case holding a fire axe I had seen on the wall, just in case I needed something to help myself up close. I had had some dangerously close calls in the station with my rifle, and I didn’t want to chance that again. Especially when a shifter could be anywhere or anything.
With that I worked my way from one floor to the other. I spent some time judging if I could jump the rest of the way down without hurting myself before heading through the door. It was worth checking but I want to get through this place intact. Just because nothing dangerous was on the floor I was formerly on didn’t mean it would be the same on the next one. Something I was glad for as I heard a wet, ripping sound down the hallway from me.
It was a ghoul, trying to eat what was left of a carcass nearly picked dry.
I first questioned why one was up here, and then thought about the events of the Last Day. I imagined a pony, maybe a couple of ponies, unable to get into stables or get back up to the clouds for one reason or another. Knowing their life was likely over, they hid away in their hotel room hoping it would save them. In terms of the sapient pony the ghoul had once been that had indeed been their dying day, but their body refused to go with their soul.
That was what led to the ghouls that called the wasteland home. That was likely why a ghoul had been in the hotel. Probably recognize it on some animalistic level as their territory. Anything that walked into it would be theirs to feed on.
Not wanting to risk turning my back to a feral ghoul, I decided to test something. I felt something inside my mind clink, and the world slowed to a crawl. It wasn’t completely still, but one could easily mistaken it as such at that moment. Just like how whatever Gold put in me gave me the E.F.S. and map of a PipBuck, it also gave me S.A.T.S. A life changer when it came to my survival, and a sure sign this ghoul was about to die.
I raised the novasurge rifle, lined my shots, and cued two for their back and one for the head. The spell released, and I watched as the shots seemed to rip through the ghoul with ease. Any chance I had to get a better look at them was also gone, their body disintegrating from the rounds. It was probably for my best in the end; I didn't want to get sick at what was a should-have-been-long-dead pony.
The lack of distant snarls or growls told me that no other ghouls had heard the shot. The rest of the floor was either safe, or I had just lucked out in not grabbing their attention. With that in mind I made my way over to where the ghoul had once stood, noticing its meal had been that of a pony. I couldn’t be sure, but the skeleton seemed small enough for the unfortunate grounder to likely be either a child or teenager. Probably thrown in there by Shadow Corp, same as I had been.
It had what seemed to be a cloak around it, likely as protection from the sand. I grabbed it, watching as the skeleton collapsed under it, and put it on myself. It would protect me far more than it would a pile of dead bones. Shame to not have armor still but that could be easily solved when I met Bone Breaker.
Not wanting to waste any time I immediately started looking for the next flight of stairs. It was almost eerily quiet, the only sound being my hooves against the two century old, carpeted floor. Most doors I tried to open seemed locked, the few that weren’t had no floor behind them. It was clear that, as I was moving further along, the building seemed to be getting less and less intact. Something that came to ahead when I rounded the corner, and found myself suddenly greeted by cold night air and a view.
I had personally seen the Fillydelphia crater during that mission two years earlier. The crater that I saw before me looked very similar, if a bit less wide and deeper. Pieces of buildings on the edges of it could be seen on its sides, and it was glowing heavily. No doubt it was still increasingly radioactive, and I told myself to do everything in my power to not have to go there. Considering two of the ponies I needed to meet were a ghoul and an alicorn, I sincerely hoped that wasn’t where they were hiding out.
I looked down, noticing how the debris of the Grand Trotson Hotel seemed to have been stacked nicely into a ramp. I made my way down it, eyes occasionally glancing back to the Trotson crater. The more I looked at the city, the more of Fillydelphia I saw in it. Replace Red Eyes and his raiders with the Invisible Mare and their Shadow Corp scientists, and the only real difference is that one is covered in sand. Not entirely sure if that comparison is good though, considering I never met Red Eyes.
The ramp took me from the third floor to the ground floor. The space the improvised ramp led me to was a dining area, dishes on tables and on the floor. I could imagine that ponies had been eating here like any other day, only for them to hear that Balefire Bombs were inbound. They left in a hurry, and what I saw now might have been the last meal a few of them ever had. I only hoped that said meal proved to be good.
I made my way from the dining area into the lobby proper. Nearly everything around me was dark, save for the light of a terminal behind the staff area. I looked out the door, and then back to the staff area. While I could leave, I knew there was some possibility of medical equipment and otherwise being located there. Especially useful if trying to meet Bone Breaker went very, very badly. He was a raider, after all.
After a trot over to the receptionist counter and jumping over it, I looked into the back area. Truth be told, there wasn’t that much outside of the terminal, a sweet, and an old empty box of party-time mint-als. There was also a skeleton next to said mint-als, the story so obvious it didn’t need explaining. No medical equipment could be found, but there was still one thing of interest. Shoving the skeleton to the side, I turned my attention to the terminal. It wasn’t locked, so I decided to help myself to a little war-time history lesson.
> Entry 1
>
> Our shipment finally came in today. About time too, because I swear my vision has been getting worse without it these past few days. Sometimes I can’t tell when my hoof is in front of my face or the terminal is anymore. Perhaps it is time I visit Ocular, like ponies have been telling me, but I swear the mint-als help more than any doctor ever could. Glasses would probably look stupid on me anyways.
>
> We stashed it in room 414 for the time being. I’m gonna go take a couple of mint-als and stash them at my place just in case the MoM comes knocking around. Even with my vision beyond fucked, I can tell there has been more Sprite-bots around recently.
> Entry 2
>
> Yep, just as I expected someone was a little bit too loud about us getting a shipment. Got a visit from the Ministry of Morales today, and they went straight up to room 414 and started tearing it apart. When they didn’t find it, they questioned all of us about it and then left. Glad I had decided to relocate them the previous night just in case something like this happened. I think they would have been okay if it was just the mint-als but the rage, dash, stampede, and cloud nine would have not been good for them to see.
>
> The drugs have been moved to room 207, and I told the others that I’ll be hoofing out anything anypony needs from now on. Can’t take any more chances with ponies screaming about the location of our goods. It does leave the possibility that I’ll have to move them again in case someone is checked into that room, but it is what it is. We ever want this place to get the funds it really needs to be fixed up, then we need these drugs. It’s better than this place becoming a tourist destination.
“Cloud nine? What the hell were they doing selling that kind of stuff?”
To say that shit was dangerous was like saying a bullet to the brain would kill you. Cloud nine wasn't used in the military or medical field like the others, but rather a mix of something with the specific purpose of being addictive and dangerous. Ponies used it to get high in the same way they would off of other drugs, but unlike drugs like mint-als that made it harder to function if addicted, cloud nine was a killer. The production of it was illegal for a very good reason.
I… had some history with the drug. Didn’t ever have it myself but my mother had started selling it back home before she was jailed. It was her way of trying to help get us out of poverty, but all I remember was watching a filly die during my birthday party. She had been selling it to the filly’s parents, and they had gotten into it. That is something no foal should ever have to see, and I had watched it all with my own eyes.
I think seeing the drastic measures mom had taken was why I didn’t go into music like my cutie mark wanted. I wanted to get the hell out of poverty, and the military was far better than my chance at becoming a successful artist.
There was one more entry in the terminal. It was on the Last Day, but a pony wouldn’t know that considering how casual the one who had made the log spoke.
> Entry 3
>
> Had to move them again today. A family, Stable-tech employees by the looks of it, came and were given room 207. It will be in 401 for the day but I’m gonna see if I can’t figure out somewhere better to put the goods that aren't in one of the hotel rooms. Last thing anypony needs is to find out somepony is stashing drugs in the room they paid for. A lot of explaining that needs to be avoided unless the MoM comes knock again.
>
> I have to say, those Stable-tech ponies I mentioned are actually really nice. The parents are, anyway. Something about their kid makes me uncomfortable and I’m not entirely sure what it is. All I can really say is that there is this weird look in their eyes. I’m sure I am just overthinking things right now. No foal can be that bad, r
It was unfinished. I know exactly the word he was about to type, but if he never finished the log that meant one thing: the Balefire Bombs had made themselves known. I stepped away from the terminal and looked down at the skeleton. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the pony, knowing that if they had had wings they would likely have lived. Instead, like many grounders, he had died that day with no hope. The rest of his kind became impure from the radiation of the zebra’s vile magics.
I considered what I had learned from the terminal and looked up. I personally had no interest in taking any of what that pony had, and I personally would like to see whatever cloud nine he had incinerated. However, Bone Breaker was a raider. I had learned from past missions how much raiders liked to juice themselves up and that addiction was part of their job description, if one could call raiding a job. Having those might make it easier for me to get it.
“Room four-oh-one, right?”
----------------------------------------
“Four-oh-five. Four-oh-three. Four-oh-one. Here it is!”
The climb back up was as uneventful as the way down. As soon as I returned to the floor I woke up on, I started counting down the doors. The room I was looking for was on the opposite side of the building, and somehow still accessible. Most of the missing wall and floor was on the outer part of the hallway. Room 401 was on the inside, and while the door was locked I knew a way to open it.
“This better not break. I don’t want to have to shoot the lock off,” I said to myself as I took the fire axe I had grabbed earlier out from my saddlebags. Probably not the best place to carry it but it was the only storage I had. “As far as I know it could be a waste of time.”
Gripping the axe in my mouth, I started swinging into the door. I took small chunk after small chunk out of it, the axe breaking through it easy due to the door’s age. The same could be said for the axe, as the wood felt softer than I expected in my grip. I found out why that was as I wound up to strike the door, only to hear something snap. I looked, and I noticed that the axehead had broken off and had flown into the city below.
“Fuck,” I spat as I tossed the rest of the axe in the same direction it had gone. I turned so my flank was to the door with my mood soured. “Let's hope what I did was good enough.”
I bucked the door, watching as the area’s I had stabbed the axe gave way and fell apart. The lower half of the door was gone but the upper half remained. That was all I really needed, and better than I would have expected. I didn’t have the strength of a mud pony after all, and if the door had been in any better shape that buck would probably have hurt me more than it hurt it.
I dipped my head as I made my way into room 401, eyes ignoring everything but the bed that sat along the left wall. I trotted up to it and got low to the floor, noticing a large case under the bed. Even before I pulled it out from under I knew what I had found. The literal case worth of drugs I saw when opening it only confirmed it.
Then my eyes laid on a couple packs of silvery white powder put in plastic wrap. That was cloud nine, the thing that caused my mother to kill a pony and kept her out of my life since I was eleven. I remembered well what the substance looked like, my teeth grinding together in anger as I looked at it. An anger I knew not to let control me, and I tried my best to do that by closing both my eyes and the case of drugs before me. I took steady, regulated breaths, and then opened and looked at the case in front of me.
“As soon as I found a way to start a fire, I’m burning you,” I whispered, as I stood up. I flipped whatever mental switch in my head brought up the map from earlier, watching as my vision got taken over by any normal PipBuck’s neon green. “Time to find where the Trotson quarry is now.”
After figuring out the mechanics of zooming out the map and moving it with my mind (a process that took longer than I’ll ever admit), I found it. It was a decent distance to the east, and I could see Trotson station marked not far from it. If I had been able to fly I could get there within the hour, but Gold had robbed me of that capability for the short future. I would have to make my way there by hoof and then hope the raiders didn’t decide to just shoot at me.
Acting as a narcotics salesmare wouldn’t work if they already wanted me dead.