Fallout Equestria: Starsong, Chapter 6

• Posted by Pinkie October 10, 2015 - 1,246 views

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  Warning! This series contains strong language, strong sexual themes and extreme gore, it is not for filly's or colt's eyes!  It also may contain spoilers to Fallout: Eqestria! If you are are young or uncomfortable with these things turn back FOREVER (or until you are 18)

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  Chapter 6: Simple Crate
  

  "Look in everything, you might find something useful." 

  "What a...nice abode you and your collages have." Wools politely commented as the party neared the barren rock farm, it's aged body and the damaged windmill next to it now covered in garish pink banners and newly printed posters. Several impromptu shacks littered the landscape behind the rock farm, made of an odd mixture of scrap metal and rock, covered in a coating of pink paint and layers of posters like the aged windmill.

  Pinkie Feather's face lit up, his slightly creepy toothy smile widening across his pink features.

  "Yes! Yes, it is!" The unicorn gushed, hopping in the air as they neared the farm. "It was the home of The Pink One herself, and we found it completely abandoned! Free for the taking, and even better, full of artifacts of Pinkie Pie herself!"

  From behind Reck Lass, Anagr grumbled, moving besides Pinkie Feather with annoyance.

  "You still haven't told us why we need to see 'Mother Crow' yet." The mercenary deadpanned, carelessly throwing his burnt out cigarette butt to the hard ground.

  As if he had not heard the aged griffon, Pinkie Feather continued blissfully skipping forward, his eyes nearly closed. Reck Lass let her eyes run over Pinkie Feather's body, and they stopped as she spotted...flaws in his light pink coat. The adventurous mare raised her brow as she noticed that Pinkie Feather was not naturally pink, and the stallion's coat had been...altered. Not painted or dyed, but changed somehow. Reck Lass forced her eyes off the unicorn's unnatural pink coat as the Child of the Smile suddenly stopped, an old and cracked door, smothered in a thick coat of pink paint, looming in front of him.

  "Enter friends of the smile!" The stallion beamed, moving aside and allowing the mare to clearly see the aged, obviously often opened wooden door.

  The interior of the farmhouse was coated with a thick layer of the same paint that covered the old door, seemingly oozing down the wall. A large collection of yellow robed figures, soon joined by a smiling Pinkie Feather, coagulated in the middle of the farm house, their eyes not focused on the many pre-war items littering the room, but the elder pink earth pony with robes as pink as the walls and door at the end of the room.

  "...for only a little longer!" The elder pony yelled, happiness dripping from every word as he slammed his hoof into the aged wooden floor with a bang.

  Reck Lass moved into the yellow and pink mass, hardly noticing as Wools hovered next to her, and Angar rudely shoved several Children of the Smile to the side.

  "Yes, my children, the wait is almost over; The everlasting party will soon begin!" The yellow eyed stallion proclaimed, now pacing in front of the entranced crowd. "Yes, it has been foretold by the prophet that soon, very soon, we will accept the second voice of Pinkie into our coil. Then, then my children, she will appear!"

  The small farmhouse rocked with hoof-clapping, several cultists crying out in glee and tossing their pink maned heads into the air.

  "This is some creepy shit, I don't want to be here." Angar said in a low voice, his talon nervously tapping the floor with a clicking sound.

  Reck Lass barely noted the mercenary though, her eyes running over the many items in the room like a filly at Surgarcube Corner. Pinkie Feather had called these artifacts. The mare felt a tingling in her hooves, and a smile slowly form. Even if they didn't look valuable, they were still artifacts. And just like Daring Do, she loved artifacts. The farmhouse contained haphazard piles of streamers,pink confetti and other similar items, except for the mountain of aged but preserved Mintal tins in the corner, looking like a rainbow.The mare suddenly snapped her head back to the elder earth pony as she heard a loud, male voice.

  "Now go, spread the glorious smile before she returns to walk among us! Pinkie Pie bless you all!" The Children of the Smile turned around almost simultaneously, their pink heads held high as they trotted out of the old farmhouse.

  Reck Lass winced as she noted Pinkie Feather among them, his toothy smile still dominating his pink face. There goes any guidance, she thought. The farmhouse seemed to go eerily quiet, and the stallion merely stared at the party, a smile still covering his face. Reck Lass gave a fake chuckle, her shoulders awkwardly hunched as she nervously scanned the pink farmhouse. After a few tense moments, the pink earth pony bounded over, his smile never wavering.

  "Welcome welcome welcome! My name is Pinkie Will, what brings you to this house of happiness?" Pinkie Will asked as he trotted towards the party, reaching his aged hoof out to Angar in welcome.

  The aged mercenary did not take it.

  "We we're told to meet 'Mother Crow' by one of your culti- acolytes." Angar stated, Reck Lass feeling sorry for the earth pony as his aged blue eyes burned into the stallion.

  Pinkie Will's expression took a momentary flash of pain as the mercenary refused to shake his hoof, though it dispersed as soon as it came. The old priest lowered his aged hoof to the ground, and turned his head in what seemed to be confusion.

  "You wish to see Pinkie Cr- Mother Crow?" He asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Oh I am so sorry children! She is on an important task, with the prophet herself!" The stallion finished, his face lighting up as he said 'prophet'.

  Angar let out one of his prolonged sighs, his annoyance filled gaze slowly dropping to the ground. The griffon began to speak in a quick and angry voice, his features losing their mask of calm.

  "Prophet?" The curious voice of Reck Lass interrupted, the mare's green eyes gleaming with curiosity.

  The aged griffon shot Reck Lass a curt look, tapping talons on the wooden floor and rolling his blue eyes with annoyance.

  "The prophet Olivia of course! The one with the sense!" The eldar stallion beamed, smiling like a parent with an exemplar child.

  Reck Lass momentarily furrowed her brow in surprise. She was expecting 'Pinkie' something.

  "The...sense?" The adventurous mare asked a moment later, ignoring the concerned eyestalk adjustments and the annoyed mercenary out of the corner of her vision.

  "Oh yes, the great and powerful sense! Pinkie sense!" Pinkie Will enthusiastically answered, dramatically throwing his hooves out as if telling Reck Lass she had won a million caps.

  Her interest peaked, Reck Lass grinned, about to ask the priest about this 'Sense' and maybe even Olivia. Before the mare could begin her questioning, she was shoved aside by a disgruntled griffon.

  "I apologize for my...co-worker's curiosity." Angar stated, sending Reck Lass a venomous glare. "But we need information. Whether it's coming from Pinkie Crow or whatever, or yourself."

  Pinkie Will merely nodded his aged head, turning his full attention to the annoyed griffon.

  "Of course, my child, of course!" The pink stallion said, raising his pink head into the air. "But It would be un-Pinkie of me not to offer you a place to stay!"

  Wools gave a metallic squeal of delight at the same time Anagr grumbled. Reck Lass merely nodded at the smiling priest, not about to turn down shelter from the creal wasteland. She found her vision slowly shifting to the many artifacts littering the room. The mare shook her head with a wave of red, we don't rob possibly insane cultists, she thought.

  "A-alright," Reck Lass said, putting on a smile for the elder pony. "As long as we get our, uh, info that's fine.

  ** ** **

  The aged griffon paced in front of the cracked window, occasionally letting his gaze dash to the charred wasteland it kept at bay.

  Reck Lass rolled her eyes at the impatient griffon, instead turning her green eyes to the yellow med-bot that floated in the corner, cleaning the dusty room as if insane; He straightened every pink poster, and thoroughly dusted the floor with the aged brown feather duster he had found.

  "You do realize we will probably only be here for a day, right robot?" Angar sighed, drawing his eyes from the scorched wasteland, and letting them rest on the cleaning Wools.

  If the yellow med-bot took offense, he did not show it, merely adjusting his black top hat with one metal grasper and vigorously dusting with the other.

  "Oh yes, yes! I know Angar Sir!" Wools replied, his voice oddly content as he cleaned. "But I just cannot allow such a crime against cleanliness to persist!"

  Reck Lass snickered as the mercenary grunted, swiftly beginning to pace back and forth again.

  Angar suddenly turned his faded head at the noise, his old blue eyes burning into the young mare.

  "What are you laughing at?" He sneered as he nervously looked out the damaged window that distorted the wasteland beyond as a fishbowl, his scarred features not showing a hint of amusement.

  Reck Lass gave a final awkward chuckle, feeling herself begin to nervously rub her neck and stutter.

  "J-just you and Wools." The young mare timidly responded, attempting to hide from the elder griffon's gaze in the brown rim of her fedora.

  Wools momentarily raised his eyestalks at the mention of his name, though they quickly lowered with a whirr as the yellow med-bot resumed diligently cleaning.

  The mercenary merely sighed, raising his scarred talon and slowly rubbing his temples as if to dispel a migraine.

  "I was just telling him to stop cleaning, that's not funny," Angar asserted, lowering his talon and starring at a nervous Reck Lass. ", And could you please stop that Gawddamn stuttering?"

  Reck Lass suddenly winced at the final, comment slightly recoiling as if slapped. The mare felt her face go red as a Sparkle-Cola bottlecap, lowering her head.

  As a filly, Reck Lass could not control her stuttering and her “best friend” had always viciously teased her for it, even once forcing her to read a paragraph out loud in front of a colt she had taken a liking too in a group of traveling merchants, knowing full-well she could not do it. The entire caravan laughed at her for about 5 minutes straight, mocking the embarrassed filly the entire time.

  Nowadays her stuttering had become almost non-existent, though it appeared with vengeance whenever she was stressed.

  "S-sorry, I-I can't c-con-control it, when I'm n-nervous." Reck Lass desperately struggled to say, her mind forcing her to stutter as she thought about it.

  Angar grunted, rolling his eyes and quickly lowering them as he inspected his talons, as cut as the aged wood floor they rested on.

  "Whatever." He simply stated, silently turning and yet again looking out the wavy, thick window.

  An odd silence settled upon the aged windmill, the only sounds Wools' propulsion engine and the faint whiff of an aged feather duster.

  The yellow med-bot finally stopped dusting raising his eyestalks, looking to the embarrassed Reck Lass.

  "If you wish to inquire Ms. Lass, I do have a variety of treatments for stuttering." Wools commented, Angar and Reck Lass looking to the med-bot as he broke the awkward silence.

  "I don't need any treatment." Reck Lass snapped, her defensiveness replacing her nervousness, and her stuttering.

  The med-bot shrank back at Reck Lass's aggressive voice, though with a quick adjustment of his eyestalks he suddenly turned his flicking orange eyes to the door.

  "It appears we have a...visitor." The med-bot stated, forcing a happy tone to permeate his metallic voice, covering up a tinge of pain.

  Pinkie Will trotted in the ravaged wooden door, screaming in pain as the gleeful elder stallion hopped through it, a aged, bright pink saddlebag over his frail body.

  "Hello, hello, friends!" Pinkie Will beamed as he trotted forward, causally throwing the pink saddle bag to the dirty floor in-between the trio, causing a small wave of newly printed papers to crash out.

  Angar stared at the small pool of practically glowing white papers for several moments that seemed to drag on, eventually reaching out and taking one in a battle-worn talon.

  The mercenary scrutinized it for several moments, his aged blue eyes slowly narrowing.

  "This is Body Count." Angar stated, slowly turning the paper and reveling a surprisingly crisp, black and white photo.

  The mare wore a mixture of crude, spiked metal armor, though a tight leather jumpsuit bearing "42" peaked out, reveling her muscled form. Her mane was merely two crude spikes on the side of her head, hanging limply down like her short, ragged tail.

  Reck Lass winced as she saw the rest of the picture, two chained ponies being dragged behind the brutal salver, one a young mare with dead eyes, and the next a stallion, almost colt, beaten and bloody.

  "Yessiree!" Pinkie Will said, his face still dominated by a toothy, grin, despite the grim pictures piled up in front of the priest.

  The elder stallion turned, slowly bounding towards the door, briefly throwing his pink head over his shoulder over his shoulder as he skipped.

  "Stay as loooooong as you like friends, and feel free to attend nightly teachings!" The priest called, the aged wooden door definitively slamming behind him with a small rain of dust that shimmered orange in the setting sun's light.

  Reck Lass looked at the pile of pictures, her expression slowly morphing into a frown.

  "We have a lot of work to do, don't we?"

  ** ** **

  Reck Lass let out a prolonged sigh, slowly sliding her aged, brown fedora over her face.

  The mare let the hat stay on her bored expression for several more moments, eventually letting go and allowing it to slowly glide though the stuffy air of the windmill to the clean, practically shining, wooden floor.

  "Ugh, I am so bored." Reck Lass groaned, carelessly placing her reliable fedora back on her mess of red hair and beginning to slowly pace in the aged farmhouse.

  Wools' eyestalks gradually perked up as the mare complained, and the yellow med-bot stopped straightening the bright pink poster with the image of Pinkie Pie widely smiling, hooves held out.

  "Oh Ms. Lass, I am sure Angar Sir will be back soon!" The yellow robot assured in his accented voice as he hovered forward, lowering his eyestalks to Reck Lass's level. ",And the leads he found in those pictures could lead us directly to our quarry!"

  Reck Lass merely frowned, the robots words making complete sense, but doing nothing to dampen the boredom that gnawed at the mare.

  As Wools gradually hovered away from the mare and to the now glowing poster, Reck Lass felt herself trotting after the med-bot, her reliable satchel now around her body.

  "Hey, W-wools?" The mare began, her voice low. "I have a...question."

  The robot stopped hovering towards the garishly colored poster, quickly turning with a small mirage underneath him and facing the adventurous mare.

  "Yes ma'am?" Wools responded, his orange eyes flickering with curiosity.

  Reck Lass nervously rubbed the back of her neck, brushing her red hair out of her eyes with one hoof and looking at the robot.

  "Why did you want a, uh, vacation?" She asked, genuine curiosity filling her expression and voice. "Wasn't it better in the clinic? No raiders, no slavers, no violence...?"

  The robot went oddly quiet, his ancient brown feather duster drooping slightly in his metal grasper.

  "I am...not sure." The confused robot responded, his orange eyes getting dimmer. "It just felt dreadfully...hollow, in there ma'am."

  Reck Lass felt herself nodding, felling a pang of pity in her chest for the yellow robot.

  She had felt hollow as well, back "home".

  The windmill was quiet, and Reck Lass felt herself lightly biting her lower lip, desperate to escape the awkwardness created by her odd question.

  "Alright," Reck Lass began, slowly turning towards the now clean wooden door. ",I'm gonna' go, uh, look around."

  Wools' glum expression immediately left, his eyestalks seemingly going vertical with a loud whirr, his orange eyes immediately brightening with concern.

  "Ms. Lass!" The robot exclaimed, desperately looking at the mare. "That sounds... very unwise ma'am!"

  Reck Lass, gave a fake grin of reassurance, throwing her head over her shoulder with a wave of red as she exited the aged door.

  "Don't worry Wools," The mare assured with her fake smile. ",I'm just looking around, nothing will happen to me."

  Reck Lass winced at her own words, tracing the dusty and cracked wasteland ground with her green eyes.

  When ever somepony said 'nothing will happen to me' in her books they usually died horribly.

  The wasteland stretched out in front of Reck Lass, barely illuminated by faint, silver moonlight. The mare slowly turned her gaze to the aged farmhouse, which seemed to ooze a pale yellow light onto the crack wasteland ground in front of it.

  Reck Lass's ears perked up as she heard a happy elder voice, followed by the thundering applause of several ponies. The adventurous mare felt her curious hooves gradually taking herself closer and closer to the old farmhouse, it's many pink banners and posters slightly swaying in the faint night breeze that swept over the Wasteland.

  She felt her messy mane brush the cracked door as she lightly pressed her brown ear to it, gritting her teeth as the joy filled voice of Pinkie Will attacking the mare's ear drum.

  “....The anvil fell on Twilight Sparkles head!” The pink priest exclaimed, and Reck Lass could practically see the elder earth pony throw out his aged hoof in drama. “And why did this happen, my children? It was because she put anything above the holy sense!”

  Reck Lass leaned further into the old door, almost tripping on the uneven ground, curiosity dominating her youthful features.

  “Yes, children of mine, the Sense of Pinkie Pie is nearly as important as Pinkie Pie herself! And this, yes this, is why we trust Olivia, for she has mastered the sense as Pinkie Pie herself once did!” Pinkie Will cheered, followed by a thunder of applause that shook the entire farmhouse, making Reck Lass momentarily lift her ear from the old door and slowly rub it in pain. The mare quickly replaced it though, eager to hear more about this mysterious “Sense”.

  To her dismay, the elder earth pony did no such thing.

  “No go, children of the brightest smile! Go to your abodes, and dream of the everlasting party that will soon come!” The pink earth pony finished, happily stamping his hoof at the final proclamation.

  Before Reck Lass could react to the priest's words, she felt her green eyes go wide as her young body started to twitch, without the adventurous mare telling it too. Her ear suddenly flopped against her head, giving way to a flutter of her surprised eyes and a quick twitch of her knee.

  Nothing happened.

  “Now what does that m-” She started to ask herself, viciously scanning the ebony sky for any falling objects.

  Suddenly, the aged door in front of Reck Lass swung open from a vigor filled push, sending the mare stumbling back over the uneven wasteland ground, a thin line of red blood that seemed to shine silver in the night dripping from her nose as the mare landed on her back.

  “Oh no! I am so sorry!” A surprised Pinkie Feather called out, rushing forward.

  Reck Lass groaned, instinctively putting her hoof to her bloodied nose and face, though quickly withdrawing it as it caused a flash of white pain to surge from her bleeding nose throughout her entire, now dust covered, body.

  “It's, uh, fine.” Reck Lass managed, taking Pinkie Feather's hoof that he thrust forward, a mixture of concern and guilt etched on his normally happy features.

  “Please forgive me, I am so very sorry! Please smile! I will do anything to make it up to you!” Pinkie Feather pleaded, his eyes glistening and his lower lip slightly trembling as if the young pink stallion was about to begin sobbing.

  As she plastered a fake, overly toothy smile on her bloody face, Reck Lass let her eyes dart to the Children of the Smile watching the scenes from the farmhouse, many trotting off into the distance, ignoring the young ponies, until it was just Pinkie Feather and Reck Lass standing in the pale yellow light of the aged farmhouse.

  “I already s-said it was fine,” Reck Las began, nervously hunching her shoulders and wiping the crimson blood from her face with her white sleeve, staining a large red splotch into it. “,But I suppose we c-ould, uh, talk when I get back? Yeah, talk! It will all be a-alr-alright then!”

  Pinkie Feather seemed to visibly relax, a smile, although obviously genuine smile, creeping onto his pink features.

  “Okie dokie lokie!” The stallion beamed, his small smile suddenly widening and almost shining in the pale moonlight. “I will faithfully talk to you, tell you annnnything you want and listen to whatever you say! I will enjoy talking to you and because you are nice and pr- uh, I mean, I will enjoy it sir! I mean ma'am! Uh...bye!”

  The young stallion darted off like a bolt of lightning, his yellow robes flying behind him as he ran to the shacks behind the farmhouse, his face red.

  Reck Lass stood alone in the yellow light of the farmhouse, slowly dimming as Pinkie Will turned off the lights one by one.

  ** ** **

  Reck Lass, slowly traced her eyes over each star, feeling a faint smile touch her lips, not at all forced.

  She slowly lowered her gaze, her eyes still twinkling with the blue light of the stars. As the mare lowered her gaze she felt herself give a reminiscent sigh, momentarily closing her eyes, a memory slowly coming back to her.

  ** ** **

  “You see that up there? Right in between the gap in the clouds? Know what that is?” The father of the red maned filly asked his daughter, pointing his hoof to the constellation.

  The filly turned her head, biting her lip in thought, finally shaking her head with a wave of red hair.

  “N-no I d-do'nt daddy. W-what i-is it?” She responded after a few moments of study, turning her wide eyes to her father.

  The orange stallion chuckled, patting her head.

  “That's Ursa Minor,” He began, though he noted the quick look of registration by the well-read filly. “And no, not the monster from your books. It's called a constellation, a collection of stars. Sometimes, when the cloud cover breaks for whatever reason, you can see them.”

  The filly stared wide eyed at the black sky for several moments, a look of awe plastered over her face. Suddenly she looked at her father, a hopeful expression now dominating her face.

  “I-is there a const-constel-constelleashion of D-Daring Do?!” The excited red haired filly asked, practically hopping with excitement.

  The orange stallion threw back his head, his own wave of red hair following him, laughing deeply.

  “I'm afraid not honey,” He answered, reaching his hoof into his saddlebags, digging through clips of ammunition and accidentally knocking his aged brown fedora to the ground, until it pulled out a square object, wrapped in torn pre-war newspaper. “,But I did buy something for you from Small Change.”

  The little filly gave a sqee of delight, quickly taking the wrapped package from her father, a smile etched on her features as she tore it open.

  “Daring D-Do!” She exclaimed, looking down at the well preserved book and back up at her father

  The stallion merely smiled, reaching out his hoof and tussling her already messy red hair.

  “Eeyup, Daring Do, all for you Reck Lass. It's far better than your other copy, it even has all the pages!” He explained, though his smile slowly died as he turned his head to the side, a leather armored dark red unicorn mare approaching him.

  “Cinnamon, what the fuck dude? The caravan is leavin', get yer' ass with me!” She sneered, referencing to the pony and pack brahmin forms behind her.

  Cinnamon winced slightly at the unicorn's language, slowly rising to his hooves and looking to Reck Lass, the filly's eyes distraught.

  “It was...great seeing you, honey,” The stallion began, slowly turning to follow the unicorn. “Tell mama I had to go, and that I left the caps on the table. And... and that I love both of you. More than anything.”

  The filly watched as her father departed, the new book still held In her mouth, though now it's cover held watermarks left by tears. She took a step forward feeling something brush her young hoof, and looked down to see a brown fedora, aged but still sturdy.

  The filly set her book on the wasteland ground, quickly scooping the hat from the ground and rushing towards the caravan, quickly disappearing on the grey horizon.

  “Daddy!” She called as she ran forward, hat clutched in her teeth. “Daddy! Y-you forgot your h-hat!”

  The filly suddenly stopped, the forms seemingly fading away into the wasteland as they walked forward, leaving the young filly by herself in front of her mother's makeshift shack. The filly whispered one last thing, though it was chocked out as she began to cry.

  “Daddy?”

  ** ** **

  The adventurous mare opened her eyes, subconsciously running her hoof across the brim of the brown fedora on her head.

  She suddenly gave her head a shake, forcing her green eyes ahead. If she kept losing herself in memories, she would soon find herself in a slave collar.

  The mare scanned the expanse of cracked, ravaged road in front of her, and quickly noticed the ruins to the west of the road. The structure was made mainly of cement and it's roof and 2^nd floor had long since been torn off, like much of it's walls leaving 4 decaying collections of tan bricks.

  The building had rusted conveyor belts lining the factory floor, and several large forms Reck Lass could not make out. It must be a factory, before the bombs fell that is.

  As she examined the factory, she swore she saw a small glint, like well preserved metal being exposed to moonlight. The mare grinned, her slow trot towards the former factory becoming a jog as she got closer.

  Was the glint an untarnished gun? Was it a suit of Steel Ranger power armor? A magical energy rifle?

  The mare forced herself to stop, firmly stamping her hoof into the dusty ground.

  This was a terrible idea, your going to get yourself killed, sold into slavery, raped or all 3, she thought.

  Reck Lass stood there, her green eyes still greedily locked on the glint in the distance, considering her options. She could go to the glint and risk dying horribly and getting some artifact of the pre-war times, or possibly nothing, or she could leave and never know what the glint was.

  The red maned earth pony bit her lower lip, her eyes slowly narrowing as she considered a simple answer to all of her questions, something she had always asked herself as a filly.

  What would Daring Do do?

  The mare rushed forward over the broken ground, all regard for her safety thrown to the side as she approached the factory. She stopped as she came to a rusted garage door, it's layer of thin red paint barely visible. Reck Lass took the rusted handle in her mouth, ignoring the foul taste as it slid up, letting out a scraping scream into the still Wasteland night.

  As Reck Lass had seen, the worn factory floor was covered in old conveyor belts, the toy chariots and dolls they held now twisted by the ravages of time, their paint peeling and their faces warped.

  She turned her eyes to the end of the room, her eyes running over 4 battered wooden crates, their fronts removed and wrapped in crude coils of tarnished barbed wire. The mare looked away from the brutal wooden crates as she spotted what lay next to them, a massive, pre-war condition, pony-sized steel crate with a odd logo and the words “Stable-Tec” etched into it's untarnished surface.

  The mare felt herself practically shaking as she slowly trotted towards the shining crate, and her expression screwed up when she realized, she was not shaking but...vibrating.

  Reck Lass reached her light brown hoof into her old satchel, rummaged around, and pulled out the ebony chip that was warm to the touch, surrounded by a faint blue magical aura. Suddenly, the chip floated from her hoof, slowly levitating into the air and towards the steel crate.

  “H-hey! Come back here!” The mare called, quickly reaching out her hoof as the chip slowly floated away.

  But then she felt her body go numb for a moment, and her nose twitching and itching uncontrollably. She let out a gasp, quickly scanning the night sky for any falling objects, and taking large step away from the rusted factory door.

  “What is wrong with you?!” Reck Lass sputtered at her own body, frantically turning her head to examine herself, reveling the wasteland behind her.

  Her nose stopped twitching and her green eyes went wide as she spotted the torch wielding forms in the distance behind her, their armor and the many slaves behind them clearly illuminated in their orange torchlight.

  The female form that lead them wore a mixture of metal armor, and something tight, two spikes of hair jutting out the sides of her head like the horns of a demon.

  “Body Count.” Reck Lass whispered underneath her breath, hardly noticing as the chip suddenly stopped levitating out of her peripheral vision, its blue magical field disappearing as it slid into a small slot.

  The mare felt her breathing quicken, and her eyes dart around the abandoned factory, looking for something, anything, to get her out of this. She felt herself go numb as she considered what could happen. If they captured her...

  Reck Lass violently shook her head with a swirl of bright red, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn't think about those kinds of things, the mare scolded herself. She slowly turned her head as she heard the soft hiss of the metal crate slowly unsealing behind her. The carved logo of Stable Tec engraved on the door slowly disappeared into the crate as the door opened, reveling a pile of grey crates and a shining, silver terminal, a single pale red light on it's front.

  The mare's face lit up, a small smile finding it's way on her face despite the desperate situation. An untouched pre-war crate, full of technology! This was the kind of stuff Steel Ranger's waged wars over, she thought.

  The smile soon left though, and her body filled with fear again as she rushed into the crate, pulling the chip out of it's slot with her teeth and watching the door slowly slide shut, trapping her inside.

  Reck Lass saw only blackness, and heard only the sound of her slow, terrified breathing. Several minutes passed, dragging on for what seemed like hours to the scared mare. Suddenly, hoofsteps banged on the factory floor outside her box, followed by a accented drawl, dripping with an odd mixture of aggression and lust.

  “Aw c'mon Body! Ah just wanna' break 'er now! Uh don't see the point of waitin' 'till we get back tuh base! 'Sides, she may just be uh filly, be she's uh cute lil' whore.” The voice complained.

  Reck Lass heard no response to the remark, though she could feel the pressure slowly building among the slavers.

  “Ah think I'muh just feel 'round ah bit...” The voice drawled again, quickly followed by the terrified squeak of a filly, obviously still young.

  “Skull! Take your fucking hoof off her pussy, right motherfucking now!” A seconded voice yelled, gruff and stern.

  An eerie silence followed, and Reck Lass heard the first voice give a loud sigh, violently rocking the crate and producing a soft bang as she leaned against it.

  “Body...” The voice started to say, lust still permeating every word, though it quickly ending as hooves stomped towards the steel crate.

  The crate suddenly rocked, throwing Reck Lass around the crate as it thudded to the ground, sending the metal boxes in the crate flying. The mare was barely able to suppress a scream as her hoof slammed into the silver terminal, causing a small warm stream to run down her leg as a wound reopened. The mare's eyes stung as the terminal suddenly turned on, illuminating the small space with a pale green light.

  “What the hell Body!?” The first voice cried out, full of fear and confusion.

  The violently crate shook again as a hoof slammed into the pony atop it, followed by the first voice whimpering.

  “I don't think you see the point of 'breaking' the slaves, it's not so you can fuck fillies,” Body Count sneered, her breath shaking with anger. “Y'know Skull, I am getting really tired of your shit. You treat this like it's a fucking game, an excuse for you to lick cooch.”

  “But...Ah just...” The skull started to beg, her voice trembling.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP! I AM NOT DONE TALKING, DAMNIT!” Body Count  shrieked, her built up rage coming out in a torrent as she shook the crate with another punch. “Now, if your so Lunadamn horny, I think I can fucking fix that. Barbs! Use the bat. Don't be gentle.”

  Reck Lass tried to ignore the scene that she knew was coming, turning her head towards the silver terminal and slowly crawling towards, desperately trying to be quiet against the clean metal.

  Suddenly the mare heard sputtering, and somepony sliding forth onto the crate.

  “Body, please! Ah am sorry! Ah understand muh place! Ah...FUCK!” Skull screamed, the mare's sentence trailing off into pleasureless wailing.

  Reck Lass gritted her teeth, slightly hunching her shoulders at the sound, feeling herself nervously bite her lower lip as she approached the terminal. The sickly green screen displayed a simple page with the word “Login” and a small, flickering box.

  Ignoring the pained groaning and scraping above her, Reck Lass slowly started to lift her hoof from her side to the aged keyboard, but suddenly stopped as she spotted a dark blue light, creeping from her satchel. The mare shoved her hoof into the leather satchel, pulling the chip out, which was glowing as it was at the door to the steel crate.

  Reck Lass was not surprised as the chip slowly levitated out of her hoof, slowly moving towards the silver terminal.

  “What are you?” Reck Lass whispered under her breath as the chip slid into a slot on the terminal, though her quiet voice was drowned out by a pained groan.

  The terminal suddenly flashed sky blue, momentarily displaying a motif of a dark blue 6 pointed star, with three light blue balloons behind it. Underneath, letters in an elaborate, archaic looking font read, Operation: Starsong.

  The logo suddenly shifted into a blue screen reading Welcome [User Unknown]. It gradually faded away, displaying several boxes.

  The boxes read, Nightmare Armor [Insufficient Access], Arcane Nerosuit MKII [Insufficient Access], Cybernetics Progress [Insufficient Access], Pinka❏▄■❏[File Corrupted], Chat

  The mare's mouth dropped slightly open, her green eyes going wide. This was an artifact.

  Reck Lass furrowed her brow, slowly scrolling down the blue boxes and selecting Chat. She would have chuckled at the absurdity of it, is she didn't hear Skull being raped just above her. Anpony would have been on the chat has been dead for 200 years. Despite this, the mare entered the chat, an empty box appearing on the now sky blue screen. Her eyes rested on two names in the corner of the screen, and she felt her mouth go suddenly numb. Unknown1, Unknown2.

  I see you got it. The other user sent, and Reck Lass felt a flare of recognition go off in her mind. It was the pony who had given her the job to retrieve the chip!

  Yeah, I found in the office. Along with this robot. He is rather nice. Reck Lass typed, having to revise it as the crate wildly tossed and turned from the mares on top, a constant stream of cursing coming from both. And you never told me there were going to be death robots and turrets!

  No response came for several moment, and Reck Lass desperately hoped the pony would respond soon, to keep her mind off the brutal sounds.

  Would you have done the job if I had told you?

  I'm not very cautious, so probably. Reck Lass typed, a sly grin on her face, despite the fact that a mare was being brutalized right above her.

  I apologize, but I do have a simple question.

  Reck Lass felt a sense of cold dread building up in her, but eventually built up the will to put her hooves to the keyboard.

  What?

  Why are you on a Stable-Tec device in the opposite direction of Manehatten?

  The mare felt as if she had been punched, slightly recoiling from the blue screen. Before she could respond, the mare took in a deep breath as the sounds above her suddenly gave way to a pained, orgasmic scream, and the sound of body falling off the steel crate. She heard several other voices laughing, and the gruff voice again, now sounding satisfied and powerful.

  “Still fucking horny, Skull?” Body Count laughed, spitting on the mare, who was now beginning to pathetically wimpier. “Okay, girls, shows over! Now get the slaves in their pens, and Door Knob! Can you try to get this fucking box open again?”

  The crate suddenly shook as Body Count kicked it, violently slamming Reck Lass's head into the side of the steel crate, drawing a wince from the young mare.

  Door Knob gave a deep sigh, though her quiet voice, almost a whisper, was almost overshadowed by the sounds of crude gates sliding open and a sobbing filly being forced into a cage.

  “Sorry ma'am, that thing is locked up tighter than a virgin at Mama G's, forgive my use of that cunt's name. I've tried pickn' it, blowing it, shit, even torching it.” The mare answered, her voice taking edge at the final words.

  Body Count slowly trotted away from the crate, giving it an angry kick as she left the untarnished crate.

  “Well, it's motherfucking Chains that wants it open. If you can't get it open she's gonna be pissed. Heh, and we won't just get off with getting fucked, hell no, she'll slice us open.” The slaver stated, something creeping into her gruff voice that Reck Lass had not heard before, fear.

  “I'll uh, see what I can do. It does look...different...today.” Door Knob nervously stated, her own voice rank with fear as her leader mentioned Chains.

  Reck Lass felt herself gasp, her breathing now quickening. Her eyes darted to the blue terminal, the pony on the other side still awaiting a response from the young mare, but she had bigger problems.

  They were trying to open the crate!

  Reck Lass desperately reached her hoof into her satchel, her hoof brushing over Shine's smooth surface. Bateye, she had to have some bateye in that leather satchel so she can find something in the crate to save her flank!

  The mare felt her hoof fumble, and Shine sliding out of the old satchel, noisily bouncing on the steel crate. Reck Lass felt herself go stiff, and her breathing slowly come to a halt.

  "The fuck was that?" Body Count's voice sneered. "Is Skull kicking the crate or something?"

  Reck Lass's fear filled eyes lit up as the slaver spoke, scooping up Shine in her mouth from the cold crate's bottom. She could distract them, and blame Skull! The mare quickly aimed Shine in the direction she had heard Skull fall, and fired off a bright purple beam from Shine, streaking across the blackness filled crate and slamming into the metal wall, turning it hot shade of bright red.

  Skull's scream seemed to tear through night as the mare's leg pressed against the now burning crate, slamming into it as she writhed around in pain.

  "What the fuck is that!? What's going on?!" One of the slaver's yelled, and Reck Lass heard the low sound of a rifle being cocked.

  The mare breathed a sigh of relief as Door Knob dashed away from the door, rushing over the screaming Skull.

  "Celestiadamnit Barbs! The hell did you do to her?" She called out a moment later as Reck Lass pulled an aged white bottle out of her satchel, the small capsules inside faintly glowing light blue.

  "Uh jus' fucked' 'er! Like Boss asked!" Barbs pleaded, her voice tinged with defensiveness and more than a small amount of fear.

  As the slaver's bickered, Reck Lass slid one of the small capsules down her throat, repeatedly blinking as the small space slowly faded into a clear, blue tinged, focus. 

  As she had seen from the outside, it was filled with several smaller crates, now scattered around, and the silver, blue screened terminal. The mare's brow raised as she noticed several grey and yellow metal devices spilling out of the crates, all bearing several buttons that faintly glowed orange and the words "PipBuck 2000" carved into each. A small, white and black tape stuck out of one the devices. 

  The mare forced herself to tear her eyes away from the pre-war artifacts, carelessly lying on the ground, and back to the blue terminal, quickly typing, struggling to not take everything in the crate.

  Sorry about that. Some slaver's just tried to get in my hiding place and probably brutally rape and murder me. What was the question again?

  Reck Lass felt a twang of guilt, feeling she had been to curt with whoever was on the other side of the terminal, but felt it dissipate with the casual response.

  It's quite alright. Why are you on a Stable-Tec device in the opposite direction of Manehatten?

  I got looped into a contract, not my choice. And when I got near crate, the chip just kind of levitated in a slot. 

  But why Stable-Tec? Are you a stable dweller on a PipBuck or something?

  Reck Lass's gaze subconsciously darted to the pile of devices, even reaching forward and sliding on of the things in front of her, though the white and black tape in it rolled to the metal floor, unwinding.

  No, I grew up in the Wastes. not some fancy Stable. But I found a lot of "PipBucks" in the crate I am hiding in. Oh, by the way, I am hiding in a Stable- Tec crate.

  Why are you in a Stable-Tec...never mind. It doesn't matter. Take a PipBuck, the chip can plug into it, then we can talk wherever we are.

  Reck Lass felt a grin creep onto her face, looking at the pile of devices. Take one? She was taking as many as she could fit in her satchel!

  I will. And I promise I will get there as soon as I am done with this job! Just have the caps, and we'll be fine.

  Very good, but please hurry Mr...?

  Ms actually, but Lass. Reck Lass.

  My apologizes, but please hurry Ms Lass. I have some...uninvited guests, coming soon. They have wills of steel, and an eye for technology. Good luck.

  With that, the terminal suddenly shut off, forcibly ejecting the ebony chip to the floor, hardly making a noise as it bounced near Reck Lass.

  Suddenly the mare heard pained screaming from outside her crate, followed by maniacal laughter.

  "Oooooo, feel good when uh poke da' leg Skully? Hahaha!" Barbs taunted, soon followed by another scream.

  The laughter was broken by two cracks of a gun, drawing a terrified silence over the slavers.

  "Barbs! Go and guard the fucking entrance before you get what Skull her got!" Body Count suddenly screamed, her voice filled with rage, and seeming to carry over the entire Equestrian Wasteland.  "Door Knob, don't touch the crate. That thing obviously has some...burny matrix on it or some shit. The rest of you bitches, go to fucking sleep! We have to get the slaves to Flesh Wound by noon so she can break the whores and cut the colts!"

  As if the camp had been slaughtered, all was silent, except for the occasionally rustle of crude armor or a cough.

  Reck Lass sighed deeply, feeling sleep weigh upon her heavily as well. The mare blinked, not just from Bateye wearing off, but as she felt her head slowly lower the the silver terminal as an improvised pillow. She knew that the slaver's would'nt touch the crate so...

  The mare slowly faded off into sleep, Skulls ragged breathing and the steady drip of blood slowly turning into nothing. 

  Footnote: Level Up.