Chapter 14: Old School

Dawn woke. It was early morning, the sun was peeking over the horizon, the night had ended and a new day had dawned.

She was still gazing upon the dying radiance of New Pegas as light flooded the air almost as if nothing had transpired in that long night of a war that raged in her mind.

But now things never really were going to be the same between her and Trouble.

Her armour and gear had been restored. Her beloved Amigo felt warm in his holster.

 Bad News was how he always was; lean, mean and powerful. She missed the feeling of her armour. The black hardened hide, with metal plates and bracing for ribs, chest and shoulders. The flexible collar and all the pouches on the chest and waist of it. Making her more professional looking than she ever was.

Her head ached, there was an annoying buzzing noise bouncing around her skull, she kicked herself out of Trouble’s sleeping bag with some effort, wondering where he slipped off to.

Dawn forced herself unto her stiff hooves wobbling, they felt like jelly beneath her. Dawn heard grunting from behind. She cornered the old rest station wall she was resting against to see Trouble kicking a sickly looking pony in the ribs.

The pony he was beating was unresponsive to his blows. The pony was a mare with a tatty pale mane large black bags under her eyes, a pale green sick coat with patches of hair missing. The pony was malnourished, scrawnier than Dawn, she could see her skeleton through her paper thin flesh.

Night Light stood opposite Trouble looking confused, Dawn wandered over to them.

Dawn was noticed by Night Light she spoke to her first.

“Hey Dawn! Your sleeping bag is damn heavy.” Night Light hefted it out of her cramped saddlebags underneath her and she flung it over to Dawn’s hooves.

“She anything interesting on the road?” Dawn asked as she stuffed the sleeping bag into her saddle bag.

“I seen a dead knee capped old guy, his family was there. They said they couldn’t save him.” Trouble stopped kicking the pony.

Night Light continued. “They said it wasn’t like he was worth saving, they are headed for Phoenix, gonna join up with the Trottingham Boot Boys. Maybe The Prodigies, hell they said they’d even settle for the Stalliongrad mob.”

Trouble moved in closer to Dawn abandoning the sickly pony he was raising a talon about to speak but Dawn cut him off. “What the fuck is that?” She gestured towards the sickly pony, she could visibly see what Trouble had done to it.

 He must have shattered four ribs. She looked over to the other side of her, she had been shot. This mare’s blood was dry against the desert and there was very little of it.

“Tha my dear is a dead Night Mare. See when ya waste em’ they turn back inta ponies, usually they are black as night. As ya musta saw.” Dawn missed his accent, he seemed depleted without it.

“Ranger ah owe ya, we woulda been fucked otherwise. New Pegas ain’t far away, we can make it there shortly. I’ll buy the first round.”

Dawn looked up from the corpse and seen Trouble’s face. He was tired, worn down. His coat was losing it’s scarlet edge and dulling. Over the last few days he has been getting considerably worse looking. But it didn’t seem to slow him in any way.

“Not a problem Trouble, lets see what kind of crib you got in the strip.”

They wandered away from the Night Mare almost as if it didn’t exist anymore, Night Light and Trouble moved onwards Dawn looked back on it. Thinking of what a poor tortured soul it must have been. Then Trouble stopped, and stared back at the Night Mare. Thinking to himself of what a worthy adversary it had been.

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The Figure was moving around Dawn in a circle. Thinking.

“I suppose you think I’m lying about that too, correct?” Dawn said snidely staring at her hooves as she slouched in her chair. She remembered how he called her out about the pony with the harmonica.

“No, I’ve had... Run ins with Night Mares before.” The Figure said perturbed.

Dawn raised her head shocked, she didn’t expect that from him. Usually he was quick to shoot down anything out of viability.

“What was it?” Dawn asked therapeutically, it wasn’t easy for her, that memory gave her restless nights. All in the fear of waking up back there. No help this time but stuck there helpless for an eternity. Damned to fail and fail again.

The Figure took on a deep angry voice, keeping it low. “That’s none of your concern.”

Dawn lowered her eyes from his shrouded face striking a nerve, she backed away. She knew how it was to talk about this sort of thing.

The Figure spoke again his mood lightening slightly “What happened next New Pegas?”

Leaning forwards resting his elbows on the table, listening intently.

“By nightfall yeah, but we met some knackers on the road.” Dawn said making good use of her known slang.

“Don’t use that word.” The Figure said.

“What knacker?”

The Figure leaped from his chair and slapped Dawn in the face. The connection of the cold metal and flesh knocked her head sideways reminding her to be grateful that the Figure didn’t sharpen his claws like Trouble when he hit her. It still stung like a bitch.

“Yes that.” The Figure spat.

Dawn re-composed herself, she couldn’t retaliate. She couldn't hope to fight this kind of pony in these quarters without a weapon, Trouble could take him. But then again Trouble wouldn’t have landed himself in this situation. He would never have been taken alive.

Dawn felt the sting linger, red marks hardly visible on her black cheeks. Rage was building inside of her. She was stuck in this small dark cell long enough. These wall were closing in on her, she could feel. Soon enough they’ll crush the life from her body.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?” She screamed tears pooling in her eyes. The uncertainty and sense of being caged getting to her.

The Figure shot out of his seat and circled her lapping that small metal table his pace almost breaking into a run.

“We want the facts Miss Dawn simple as. And when we’re done you can go. Why do you think we left you with all your gear?” The Figure said trying to sooth her in an assertive tone.

Dawn cracked a smile, a single tear trailing from her eye her voice quivering.

“Double bluff. I still don’t have my guns. We both no I’m never leaving this room.”

She may not be educated but she knew odds, and hers weren't looking up.

The Figure stopped pacing, stopping dead in his tracks. He sighed.

“Sorry,” He began, remorse and shame in his words “orders are orders, maybe we can work something out, you are after all still an NCR citizen.” His usual cold tone fell, he slowly reseated himself. Dawn never moved an inch, wallowing in her own self pity.

The Figure spoke again, eager to resume. Time was of the essence.

“You met some travellers on your way there what happened?”

Dawn wiped her eyes, no point in not telling him. It was either try and use leverage and get tortured and tell him anyway, or she could tell him now and save herself for now.

“Bare hoof boxers, wild bunch came from Bally an Poni in the coltic lands.”

The Figure went rigid in his chair.

“For what?” He replied.

“Caravan jobs, this was a band of misfit ponies looking for some work they spent their lives on the road so it wouldn’t be hard.”

“Weird.” the Figure remarked.

“Trouble would’ve fit right in with them.” She smiled remembering the animated bunch.

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They stood on the edge of the plain. Trouble placed the Night Mare in the rest station that Dawn and him were outside the previous night. Trouble rested the Night Mare on an old flea infested decomposing mattress inside saying that “She done well to get that far.”

Giving that tired old pony a final resting place.

They stood side by side, Trouble the largest in the middle, Dawn to his left Night Light to his right. They stood there on the top of that plain. Trouble with his worn down bullet cracked and burned black filthy duster, his face looked tired and worn down which he probably was, but he never acted like it. Always the pillar of strength leading by example.

Night Light next to him gazing at the city, her jacket buttoned tightly up, her brown stetson with the black band resting on her head the bullet hole from Marizona ripped a hole right above her cranium devaluing her fierce and elegant look, silver mane and coat and grey eyes. She was serene but at the drop of hat she turned into a predator with her prized Valkyrie rifle.

And finally there was Dawn the smallest of the three: Underweight, scrawny, large eyes in a hungry face. The days haven't been kind to her gold mane either, tufts of the frizzy and untamed hair were yanked out and stains were easily visible. But her black and purple armour with it’s various pouches, Amigo at her side and Bad News on her back, she looked mean. Meaner than this delicate mare has ever looked in her life, and in the presence of her companions; her guardian Trouble and the Ranger who was growing on her, she was a contender in this world now at least. She finally had a chance to live.

Dawn was staring at New Pegas she only seen one tower in the distance and the beautiful lights but now she seen what it really was.

In the very heart of the city was a single large arrow straight strip of wide asphalt road, along that road numerous large stocky buildings each differing wildly in design and colour at the very end of the road was the casino that was visible from here. The large tower in the shape of the roulette spinner, it immediately caught her eye. But what she was looking at wasn’t the creme de creme. Radiating out from the strip was urban sprawl.

Rough grey patchy buildings miles thick were spread out from the beautiful luxurious heart, black smoke plumes could be seen from where they were standing. All around the heart a thick slanted wall could be seen, segregating the elite from the riff raff. And on the outside of the slums another tackier and makeshift wall, segregating the riff raff from the wastes.

Dawn’s eyes went from wild with excitement and awe to disgruntled from seeing the jewel of New Pegas and her rusty exterior.

“Whats the place outside that inner wall?” Dawn asked sheepishly, voicing her vague disappointment to Trouble.

“Freeside, it’s wha we call a ‘Ghetto’ rough nuff so it is. Fuckers always tryin ta mug tourists, best way ta put manners on em is a bullet in between da ribs.”

Night Light added “It’s run by drug barons and smugglers, not nice country. The rangers were asked to clean the place up, but the Ponave is outside our jurisdiction. We couldn’t spare the pony power.” Night Light said her voice was sickened. Night Light had morals, Trouble not really Dawn didn’t really know what morals were.

Trouble’s eyes were drawn to the road beneath them, a group of ponies were trudging their way slowly up the rising gradient, he nudged Night Light and gestured towards them.

Dawn was the last to catch on, there was 7 of them all wearing practical yet stylish waistcoats, shirts and long coats with no sleeves.

Trouble spoke before Dawn had time to pose the question. “Stall the ball up here, we’ll see what the craic is with these lads.”

Dawn didn’t even know where to begin, with how she didn’t have a clue what that meant.

“What?” Dawn summarised.

Trouble exhaled tired, “Craic: Slang from where I’m from it roughly means fun, whats going on, good times, fun. Fuck it’s multi purpose right? There is no word for it in Equine.”

He said bored, probably sick of repeating it’s definition to less well travelled ponies.

“And stall the ball?” Night Light said equally as confused.

“Fuck me.” Trouble facehoofed. “Stall the ball, fuckin wait and see. As in Stall-stop and ball as in we’re having a fuckin ball. Hence! The fuckin ball has been stalled. We’s stallin the ball righ?”

“OK.” Said Night Light confidently, Dawn still hadn’t a notion as to the whats going on so she thought it best to play along so she slowly nodded her head agreeing.

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They waited until the group waved at them Trouble signalled back waving. He began to strut down the gradient to met them, Trouble taking the lead. The pony on point for the 7 ponies signalled for the rest to stop while he continued up alone. Of all the ponies there Dawn noticed something, there was only one mare among them and there was only 2 unicorns out of all them.

He was a cerulean stallion with black eyes and a yellow mane wearing a black leather waistcoat and brown tweed cap.

He approached Trouble tipping his cap.

“Aye, Aye Mister.” The young stallion said in a largely similar accent to Razey’s except more comprehensible.

“Story Kid?” Trouble replied.

“Where bouts you from our fella? With your stripes n all.” The stallion replied his eyebrow quizzical.

“In nd roun Monaneigh, yourselves?” Trouble replied smiling at the young stallion, the stallion smiling back.

“Fuck, bally an poni around Dealgan, Ya know Dealgan ah?” The stallion getting ecstatic.

“Ah do indeed, ya know Big Jocey?”

The stallion laughed to himself. “Fuckin hell we’re headin with his fuckin  cousin!”

The stallion turned around to his halted company he shouted back to them.

“Oi! Bosco yer pony ere’ knows yer cousin Big Jocey! C’mon ya bastards this fella’s from roun Monaneigh!”

A larger than life red coated and red maned pony stepped forward wearing a sleeveless trench coat. He was even bigger than Trouble with all his armour on.

“Oh ah, Big Jocey hey. Fuck you’re one ugly bastard” He said in almost a sing song voice.

Trouble squinted at the red pony he looked him up an down and spoke “You’d know this fucker was a relative of Big Jocey, da fuckin size of him.” The lumbering red stallion chuckled.

His shoulders were broader than Dawn’s head. The party of mostly stallions and one mare trotted on up, with friendly smiles keen to talk to a native of their land.

Trouble clasped the speaker pony on the shoulder and began to walk with him back up the gradient, Dawn and Night Light followed in silence.

“Wah are you boys doin so far from home?” Trouble asked.

“Lookin fir work, nathin up where we are. So we said we’d head fir ere’ heard they need capable ponies nd the like.” The speaker replied, a few ponies behind said “Aye.” in unison.

They were out onto the plain the speaker of the ponies walking alongside Trouble, his friends trailing behind slightly.

The speaker took in the view “I tell ya wah mister, ya any good fir fair fightin?”

Trouble’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Wah Bare hoof? Exoskeleton kid, I’ll kill someone.” Trouble said his voice warning him from himself. His face looking worried.

“No bodge, No bodge. Big fella such as yerself gloves would nay slow ya a-tall.” Trouble didn’t look so serious know. The speaker pony wrapped a hoof around Trouble’s shoulders.

“Ya up fir a wee bit o’ prize fighting boss?” The speaker asked, his voice tempting.

Trouble chuckled.

 “Against yer Big fella Bosco Ah?”

The Figure shook his head and his tone of temptation remained the same.

“No, no, no, no nothing like that, a big fella but not as big as the buck himself like. Five Hundirt soun’ fair?” The speaker pony hanging off of Trouble a grin on his face.

“Whats the name kid?” Trouble asked.

“Hoptile.” He replied.

Trouble repeated the name in a muttering.

“Alrigh’ I’ll give your boy a fight.” Trouble replied.

“Ya hear that boys!? Our man ere’ will give young Omelet a figh!” Hoptile hollered back.

The crowd broke into cheering, the one identified as Bosco said something along the lines of

“Scup De Wap, Yeup De Bouy!” Dawn was bewildered, her and Night Light exchanged confused glances as Trouble and Hoptile spoke away.

“Who am I fightin then?” Trouble asked Hoptile leaving his shoulder.

“Oi Omelet!” Hoptile shouted back.

From the crowd a muscular and tall khaki pony emerged wearing a worn down black blazer with a dirty yellow silk waistcoat beneath. His head was clean shaven and his eyes were an army green unlike Trouble’s poison green eyes.

The pony was around the same size as Trouble his cutie mark was visible, it was true to his name an Omelet. He squared up to Trouble, trying to intimidate him. Trouble didn’t return the favour instead he looked him over and smiled, though it was hard to tell if Trouble was being friendly or not.

With that huge scar demonizing his smile.

Hoptile drove a hoof between the two separating them. Dawn couldn’t help but feel attracted to the boxer, Omelet. It would take balls of steel to try and stare down a pony like Trouble, he was a walking death threat this pony was a roving buck looking for work.

Trouble whispered to Omelet “Right then boy, I’ll sort ya out.”

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The ponies were all in a line along the asphalt road Dawn and Night Light standing beside Trouble, they hadn’t spoken a word since these guys showed up. All around them was those bucks chipping in to match the bet. Omelet was stretching his hooves out on the plain. Trouble before this stashed all his weapons in with the dead Night Mare, he wasn’t sure how they would react to the Red Queen.

Hoptile came over to Trouble grinning, in his mouth was a bowler hat with a mound of caps in it.

“Two-fihfty bhoy, sqhuare muh uhp.”

For the first time in a while Trouble leaned into Dawn’s ear and whispered.

“Are you watching closely?”

She looked at him in confusion her face baffled, he leaned away and winked.

Trouble reached into his saddle bags with the extra reach his exoskeleton gave him and pulled out one of those clear cellophane bags the Good pony paid them in and dropped it in the hat.

The sudden increase in weight made the hat almost capsize but Hoptile held it, muttering profanities. He flipped the hat around on the ground in the middle of the sandy plain.

“Alrigh Lads! No biting, no head butts jus boxing!” The ponies cheered Omelet on.

Night Light spoke for the first time in a while in a hushed whisper. “You got a plan Trouble?”

Trouble began to tussle his black duster off while answering. “Easy, beat him.”

Night Light said back in a muttering looking content with his answer

 “Not bad...”

Trouble stood onto his hind hooves, for the first time in her life Dawn seen the length of Trouble’s forehooves and his shoulder armour. The chatting of the travellers ceased when they seen Trouble without his duster.

His forehooves were maimed and mangled. Scars, holes dips and ripples littered the length and breadth of them. Dawn seen straight away the chainsaw scar and so many others. His war paint on his arms was faded and gone in places, cracked in others.

His shoulder armor was layered. Triangular, stacking on each other 3 layers of them and a circular hinge on the joint for flexibility. The once blue paint of it was blown in circular holes Dawn suspected were bullets lacking the force to punch through.

Dawn never seen the entirety of his chest or hind leg pieces either. His chest piece concealed his cutie mark, his tail was short and black and Dawn could see the tip of the exoskeleton, engraved into the back of his neck, she cringed slightly.

His leg pieces were in much better shape than his chest piece. The failed penetration attempts littering it, some rust on the centre, dents and shallow pierces all over it. Scarred just as badly as him, the denim beneath the armour plates was old and musky. The only part of his body that wasn’t littered with scars were his hind hooves.

Scratch that, Dawn shivered, the back of ankles were scarred. A big long scar in the tendons of his ankles. Both of them, 2 matching scars. Dawn didn’t think that was a coincidence.

Trouble presented his duster to Night Light. She sheepishly accepted it, stunned by his grotesque scarring.

The only one who wasn’t phased was Omelet, he was bouncing on the tips of his hind hooves. throwing sharp punches.

Two the approached one another, Hoptile was rummaging through a duffel bag of one of the other ponies, he poked his head out with a pair of old tatty stuffed black gloves. Thick with stuffing design to absorb shock Dawn guessed.

The two stood on the road little more than 2 feet from one another, Omelet’s face determined and steely. Trouble’s face was amused and relaxed. Hoptile spat the gloves out at Trouble’s hooves.

Hoptile stood between them. “Alright your pony here has got armour, so somebody give Omelet a Vest!” He called out, Bosco ducked his head into the same Duffel bag Hoptile did and pulled out a white bullet proof vest. Well there was never such a thing as bullet proof but still the name stood.

Bosco lifted the heavy vest over to Omelet, Dawn seen his neck muscles. Pulsating and pressing against his skin, he was one big SOB. The vest was fitted around Omelet and Trouble fitted the gloves on his hooves with difficulty.

Hoptile beckoned them both in closer, they obliged both jumping up and down on their hind hooves. Everypony was deathly silent.

“Alright lads, ya know the score. I dun wanna see any o’ that Zebra bollocks, none of that boot nd tooth shite neither righ? Clean fair fightin, now shake hooves.”

Trouble extended his gloved hoof forward, Omelet gave it a quick and gentle slap.

“Begin!”

Trouble bounced backwards on his hind hooves, his body leaned forward, his tatty gloves shielding his face, his head ducked down.

Omelet pranced back and forth on his hooves, in a similar stance to Trouble’s only more flamboyant.

Omelet edged closer to Trouble bouncing back and forth on the tips of his hooves.

Omelet stepped in making his move, double left jab. His hooves like rockets through the air, they impacted on Trouble’s guard recoiling them slightly. Omelet followed it up with a heavy right to knock down Trouble’s guard.

Trouble’s left came from nowhere smacking Omelet between the eyes staggering him.

Trouble stepped in, another blinding left to the cheek Trouble drew his right back and swung from the shoulder at Omelet’s jaw.

Omelet seen it coming, he ducked in towards the punch, Trouble’s hoof sailing over his shoulder. He was in close crouched over, he kicked off the ground shooting up with his hoof inbound for Trouble’s chin. As his hoof rose from beneath Trouble jumped back, Omelet’s hoof missing completely.

Omelet was recovering from his failed attack, he re-assumed his guard and began to circle Trouble. The two moved in a perfect circle around each other, neither one taking their eyes off the other.

Neither of the two left the cracked asphalt road, it was in a way their boundary. Omelet jumped in towards Trouble, Trouble blocked but nothing came. He lowered for one second.

Two sharp punches came his way, the bare hooves cracking against his jaw and eye. Much more powerful than Trouble with the gloves on.

Omelet tried to follow it up with a left hook to the temple. Trouble seen it, and leaned backwards, the hoof less then an inch from his head.

Omelet failed to recompose himself, the momentum in his punch carried him forward, leaving him exposed.

Trouble shot in. Left hook to the ribs, Omelet’s head leaned back towards Trouble. another left hook to the jaw. Omelet’s eyes were dizzy, Trouble weaved around to his side, his guard faltered, from his shoulder came an almighty right cross. he threw his body backwards to let the cross fly. His hoof twisting as it flew. The cross hit Omelet in his temple. Trouble snapped back his hoof and recomposed his stance. Omelet keeled over seeing double and with a dumbstruck face. Trouble jumped away from Omelet back dancing on his hooves, 12 paces away, giving him time to recover.

Trouble spoke to his opponent laughing “Didn’t your mother ever teach ya how to fight? C’mon son, I’ll beat ya till you’re good lookin.” Taunting the dazed pony.

Bosco cheered from the sides “C’mon The Omelet!” Hoptile remained silent a worried look on his face. But the others joined in cheering him on, they all broke into song for their broken comrade. Dawn was wondering why Trouble didn’t get in there and put him out of commission.

“We love you Omelet! We Do! We Love you Omelet O’ Yes it’s True! O’ Omelet we love you!” The chant seemed to be working. Omelet was getting back onto his wobbly hind hooves, his shaved head would have been bleeding if it weren’t for those gloves Trouble was wearing.

The chanting got to Dawn she retorted with a flimsy cheer of her own.

“Go on Trouble, kick his flank!” The cheering died instantly, Night Light looked at her with wide eyes and whispered coarsely “Why the fuck did you say that?” Dawn opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

All the coltic ponies stared from Dawn to Trouble even Hoptile stopped to gawk.

Hoptile slowly rotated his head towards Trouble, his expression blank.

“Are you Trouble?” He asked slowly.

“Aye,” Trouble replied beginning to pull the gloves off of him, strutting towards Dawn and Night Light “I am indeed.”

Hoptile was still struggling for words, Omelet was lying on the road his head lolling around in circles.

“The Trouble?” He asked the words hissing through his teeth.

“The very same, the eleventh Black Joker -- Death Dealer.” Trouble replied casually.

“How do I know you ain’t lying?” Hoptile asked pointing his hoof accusingly at Trouble.

“Take one good fuckin look at me, does everypony look as handsome as me?”

Hoptile backed up towards his mates, his eyes scared. Dawn hadn’t the faintest idea why, but it seems nobody wanted any Trouble today. Hoptile licked his lips.

“Righ, lads it ain’t worth it.” With that Hoptile walked over to the dazed Omelet, he hoisted his friend over his shoulder and began to trot down the road forsaking their belongings, including the hat with the bet. Quietly and reverently the others followed Hoptile and Omelet, Bosco was heading the back of the pack. He was the only one who didn’t give Trouble and Dawn a wide berth, instead as he was passing he cocked his head and clicked his tongue saying

“Fair play, all the good numbers and the best of luck to ya.”

Trouble mimicked his actions swinging his head to the side winking and clicking his tongue in one motion.

“Best of luck to ya our fella, if I’m up roun Dealgan I’ll tell big Jocey ya said well.”

Dawn had been reminded once more who she was travelling with. Trouble.

Big Trouble.