“Huh…” Melody hummed as we rounded a bend in the track that curved around a brown hill bringing New Appleloosa into view. “It’s not as big as I thought it would be.”

“Well what were you expecting, Manehattan?” I chuckled as I lead the group ever onwards to the modest-sized settlement.

“I...I don’t know what I expected…” She mumbled to herself as we continued to walk. "I r-really don't..."

New Appleloosa was roughly the same size as Old Appleloosa though was in considerably better shape and was much more populated. The town itself was similarly defended by a wall of derelict rail cars taken from the railway, however New Appleloosa was home to much more competent defense planners and telekinetic prowess. While the Slavers had made do with upright cars patched up with shoddy walls, these enterprising ponies stripped them of their wheels and placed them in a nearly seamless ring two cars high. Over time, each of these defensive boxcars were filled to the brim with sand, rock and other rubble to act as a shield against any attack on the wall itself while the top was patrolled by a dozen armed guards. Inside the ring was an almost quaint collection of makeshift houses formed of various leftover passenger carriages, shipping containers, sheet metal, iron piping and wood. Four in particular even rose three boxcars high, welded to a rudimentary but serviceable support structure with external stairs and a sniper's nest perched atop each giving the town a wide field of view. Our approach was going to be noted.

To further our cover in the event the train arrived with news of the slaughter while we were here, I had to leave the straight and easy path of the tracks and approach the town from the exact opposite of the South we were running from. New Appleloosa wasn't a town I was all too familiar with having the bulk of my Bounties sending me North, East and primarily the San-Palomino area as a whole. While still in the Desert's limits on a map, New Appleloosa was in a gray zone lying on the fringes of the Badlands as well, a personal no-go zone. Until now that was. My three previous passing-throughs were for no longer than it took to catch a hot meal at the Bronze Bell and use their rather civilized public restrooms. Relatively comfortable, safe enough to take your time with and regularly had TP? It was well worth the detour during those three occasions but had done little to familiarize me with the town all that well.

Without another thought I turned to everypony and said, “Ok, for the record if anypony asks where we’re coming from just say, 'We caught the track just South of Barkerville.' That's vague but detailed enough to satisfy most small talk questions without arousing too much suspicion. As for Chocolate's wounds, we tell the truth only as far as we have to, to get what we need. On second thought, just try to not talk too much and let me handle the bulk of it. We wanna get in and outa here as quick as we can so we can beat the train. Needless to say they're not gonna be too happy that one of their largest importers was wiped off the map for now.”

They all nodded and I was grateful (if saddened) that they knew exactly why we were having to be a bit deceptive to the relatively good folks of NA. Old Appleloosa was a huge source of commerce for them and thanks to the three of us (Chocolate was just a victim plain and simple) the town was empty of all life. Well, until more Raiders and/or Slavers moved in which honestly could happen within a week, two at most. A pre-made, well-fortified town like that wasn’t going to stay empty for long. Sure as any band of sadistic bastards still roamed the earth in their thousands who’d all probably die at the chance to get such a strategic area all to themselves. Were it not Hell made real, I'd even feel inclined myself towards that kind of solid foundation to build a community on. That was of course assuming one mare and two foals counted as a 'community'; not that I would ever be so bold as to call ourselves by that term.

That train of thought brought another pertinent topic into the station for me to consider as my future plans were continually being developed. Assuming Gold and Melody wished to...stick with me longer, we were going to need a lot more room than my tiny concrete and steel fortress in Freeside. Chocolate...she was welcome to crash with us I suppose but I hoped that she would move on after regaining her legs and a bit of spending money. How much more room though...? Well...that was a good question. Hadn't been in a place to share room with anyone in decades so how much room did a mare, young mare and an ambiguously aged Ghoul need to live comfortably? Mother of fuck there was so much to think about...

We made our final approach using the rail line towards the large sliding gate protecting the town station line before being waved over towards a sentry door by a pack of guards. Though I had seen it before, I was still impressed to see the three mares and one stallion guarding the door wearing matching sets of the M-CAP R1A armors all painted a bright blue and yellow. Hadn't seen many of them survive the War being an exclusive line of the Ranger series, the same from which my Mrk. IV had come from albeit earlier in the development cycle. They were only issued to 1st Recon units but proudly used a version of the iconic breastplate included in a suit of combat armor made of better materials than those issued to lower ranking grunts. How they came into the possession of such treasures? I was too socially awkward to ask...

"Alright you three, just hold up for a minute now would ya?" Asked one of the mares, casually keeping the barrel of her .44 Trail Carbine level with my chest.

"Hey, I'm here too y'all!" Whined Chocolate, leaning dangerously far over to make sure they saw her on my back.

"Sweet Celestia, what happened to her?" Gasped a second mare in horror while the other two remained silent, checking us over while the mares kept their guns trained on us.

"Oh you know, out hunting for some grub and baboom baby!" Chocolate said with much more enthusiasm than could be unnaturally forced. "Butttt, we kinda really need to get my ass to a doc don't ya think?"

"You here to cause us any problems?" The male asked with a critical eye on me in particular, no doubt a concerning sight in my armor and armed as I was.

"Hardly," I said calmly and nonchalantly. "Like she said, we need to get her looked at by someone more equipped than I am and we need a decent amount of supplies. Only place South of Barkerville that has enough shit we're looking to buy."

"Is that so? Y'all a strange bunch for a bunch of travelers..."

I didn't have time to banter with suspicious minds. The best negotiator for stubbornness was almost always cold, hard cash no matter the era or the currency. Pocket change for me would be worth triple at least to those not making 50k a month. Money changing hooves always has a way of soothing tensions between people.

"How about I prove my intentions by eh...lightening this bag of caps I brought with us?" I suggested, pulling out my large leather bag of caps and letting it rattle for their ears to lust over. "I'm sure whatever they're paying you ain't what you think your time is worth so why don't we say...a hundred caps each and you guys let us in without any further questions. We told you what we're here for, if we meant harm I could have done it from miles away and we are just passing through to begin with. Not a bad deal I'd say."

Surprise and amusement hit all four of their faces as weapons raised and tensions eased. The caps were counted out quickly and with their greed so easily satisfied, we were allowed to walk through the large metal garage gate and into New Appleloosa. I was 400 caps lighter, but it was a relative drop in the bucket overall and I still had enough left over for more than a little wiggle room at the mercantile store. Not only was that our most logical stop after the town doc, but it was also the nearby the new location of Green's regional drop box. Hitmares and Hunters with other jobs in the que could stop by after any mission that brought them to the area and leave behind any important items Green may have requested at that particular time. I didn't have the caps, but I sure as hell still had the raw Chems that he had asked for. He was gonna have to be happy with what he got outta me at this point and there was always a tiny chance it would be enough brevity to afford us a more muted retaliation.

“Hey, mind telling me where I can find the main merchant?” I asked a random passerby soon as they came close enough to ask without feeling awkward. "We're kind of lost, sorry."

“Ah shucks, y’all new to town?” The stallion asked, his face lighting up in spite of my rather intimidating armor and helmet, something that usually gave strangers a bit of pause.

“Mhm.” I nodded. “I need to get some supplies for me and my friends here.”

He looked over our ragtag party of two foals and two mares, only two of us wearing some form of armor and chuckled as he pointed towards the north part of town and said, “Just there on yonder, can’t miss it! Th’ place is called Absolutely Everything so ya can’t miss it if ya tried. Oh, just a heads up but th’ owner is one of them Ghouls, but she’s a sweet gal. Ugly as sin but a sweet gal. Hell of a repairspony too! Keeps th' town well pump goin' nice and strong!”

Gold pouted a little and said, “H-hey! I’m a G-Ghoul too!”

The stallion looked at him with surprise as if really seeing him for the first time and exclaimed, “Well I’ll be damned! Y’all are gonna be just fine seeing her then! Good luck! And welcome to New Appleloosa strangers! Remember, yer lookin' for Absolutely Everything, straight down there and to th' right. Can't miss it!”

Absolutely Everything eh? Well, I was shy a bunch of ammunition and though I had enough for my Sequoia and my AMR, I still felt strangely naked without my usual extra supplies of ammo. Plus, we needed to get Melody a basic set of armor until I could pull together something better for her and Chocolate was probably sore from laying on the large turtle shell-like armored plating attached to the back of my duster. Seeing as she was there all day, I wanted to get her a blanket or something to act as some padding for the rest of our journey. The only problem, for once, was money. I had given just about everything I had to Chocolate forcing me to ask for it all back with the promise I’d pay for whatever she wanted as long as it was within our budget. And wasn’t too weird.

We passed between the patchy steel and wooden buildings heading in the direction the stallion had pointed us getting some strange looks and whispered words from the townsfolk who caught sight of us as we went. I had to admit we probably looked like one weird looking team of misfits to anypony looking on. I mean, amongst us was an armored Ghoul the size of a colt, a drop dead gorgeous filly wearing nothing at all (which was a rare sight indeed in the Wastes) a heavily armed mare wearing battle worn but still advanced Pre-War armor and a heavily scarred brown mare on her back who was missing her hindlegs. In all seriousness, we looked like a traveling circus that had gone through basic training at least once.

Amongst the whisperings my helmet’s microphones picked up was, “Wonder if they’re a bunch of junkies...or maybe one of those weird traveling prostitutes I’ve heard about. New Pegasus has a lot of weirdos, they’re probably from there.”

I rolled my eyes and continued until the houses gave way for a set of derailed boxcars all connected together to form one building. Painted on the wall of the doorway leading in, in large white letters was the phrase, ‘Absolutely Everything’ accompanied with a rather strange collection of silvery grey circles. It remained to be seen if the place indeed had absolutely everything we needed but we entered in anyway. The interior was stuffed full of box after box and shelf after shelf of the most random assortment of objects anypony would need. Guns, ammunition, canned and boxed food, tools, jewelry, books, random knick-knacks and everything in between seemed to be housed in the endless maze of shelves. It had been awhile since I had been in an establishment that actually qualified for the term 'general store'. Whoever ran this place knew what the hell she was doing and had a terrific supplier to boot. It was no wonder why New Appleloosa was booming.

“I wonder where the o-owner is?” Gold said as we all looked around for the Ghoul proprietor we had been told about but weren’t readily seeing in the store. "D-don't see anypony..."

There was a loud crash from over where a makeshift counter stood as a box full of assorted metal parts got knocked to the floor by a Ghoul who seemed to suddenly appear from nowhere. Since Melody was watching, I pushed myself to rush forward to help her tidy the mess. As I worked beside her though, I quickly noticed the bony, mostly featherless wings attached to her sides making her a rare sight indeed. I had only seen maybe one or two Pegasus Ghouls in my life and they had certainly not been as silent and non-biting as this mare was. Speaking of, or should I say the lack thereof, I was surprised that no sound at all was coming from the Ghoul. An event such as knocking something over would generally elicit profuse apologies from a store owner but as I kept my eyes to the floor and worked, not a single raspy word came from her mouth. Peculiar...

It wasn’t until I had stood and set the heavy box back onto the counter did I notice that though silent, the Ghoul was grinning at me with her poorly disfigured and zombified face in a welcoming manner. Words continued to evade her but she grinned nonetheless, something about her feeling different. I was feeling something...almost familiar but for the life of me I couldn't point a hoof as to what it was.

“Oh don’t worry about the mess.” I responded in what I assumed to be the best course of action. “We need to buy some supplies; bullets and the like. Mind showing us what you have? Preferably something on a bit of a budget since my caps are a little low right now but I'm open to a good haggle. I can play that game.”

She nodded and in continued silence, took us over to the shelves behind her counter where she smartly stored all her ammunition in locked steel cages. Once behind the counter, she unlocked the cages with a key in her mouth like any non Unicorn had to do for lack of magic. I looked back at the others as she did so and got similar looks of confusion though Gold seemed happy to be near another Ghoul and Melody didn’t seem as perturbed as I had expected her to be. It made sense she had seen her share of Ghouls during her time at Old Appleloosa so she was probably prepared for the less than appetizing spectacle before us. As she slid back the last cage door showing an impressive collection of battered but identifiable boxes of ammunition, she looked back at us and picked up a piece of chalk in her mouth. Scribbling away on a small chalkboard that laid on the counter next to a bottle of SparkleCola.

‘What calibers are you looking for?’ The chalkboard said for her, a cute little smiley face added to the end after the question mark.

Obviously she was a mute but she was literate and still had her hearing. It was rare, but some Ghouls couldn’t stand to hear the sound of their new, raspy tones and chose instead to remain silent. That being said, those were usually the weird loners you’d almost never see since they hid away in the mountains or in the sewers of cities to get away from normal ponies. It was a bit odd but the smiley face did a lot to get me to like her. The symbol was a Pre-War gesture that most ponies didn’t usually use and the bout of nostalgia was a happy one for me as I had used them excessively on my notes to Huckleberry. There was something about the simplistic charm of it that made it endearing and fun to use whenever I was feeling playful or happy. It all feels like a lifetime ago...

“Well, I was hoping you had maybe some 10mm Automag, .44 Magnus and either .223mm or some 5.56mm NEATO. Either of those will work, naturally.” I said as I glanced between the boxes on the shelves and her face, one of her cloudy golden eyes slipping out of place in an unnerving manner but one that was almost painfully familiar. I had seen somepony’s eyes do that before a long time ago and it was driving me nuts trying to figure out who this mare was. She was far too familiar to me for some reason and I just couldn't let it go. I was going through a change and the past was now finally more open for reflection and contemplation.

She nodded and started pulling out several boxes of each caliber type I asked for (including both the .223 and 5.56) using her bony wings with surprising dexterity to grip each box as easily as if she were a Unicorn using magic. She was even so kind and thoughtful as to point to small signs written in pencil on each shelf below each type of ammo showing the price per bullet like an old fashioned Pre-War general store which was definitely unique. Not only that but her prices were surprisingly low, even on the .44 Magnus that was usually a bit spendy in the range of 4-7 caps a round depending on the merchant. Here, everything was at least ten-percent cheaper than almost anywhere I had been in New Pegasus including The Pile. Only the Gun Runners prices came cheaper and that was simply by virtue of being one of their most frequent and high-spending clients. Was nice to know even in the post-apocalypse there were still some places that offered VIP discounts.

“Ummm, excuse me…” Melody asked softly behind me and to my left. “Why aren’t you talking? You can write so you’re certainly smart enough so...is it a choice…?”

Smooth Melody, very smooth…

The mare smiled again (something that seemed to be just who she was which was amazing given her life as a Ghoul) and opened her mouth wide to show us her rather repulsive inner mouth and her yellow and chipped teeth. In the center where her tongue would have been was a mottled purple stump that made me want to gag but also cry out in sadness. The poor girl had, had her tongue cut out...you could tell it had been cut by how the stub of her tongue was kind of jagged, evidence whoever had done had used a dull serrated blade. A tongue was useful for a lot of things, not the least of which was talking as well as tasting the goodness of life. (Yes, especially some good mare pussy, shut up.) I wondered how long it had been since she had been able to speak. Hell, I wondered how old she was in general. The little cues were all hinting towards Pre-War but I didn’t want to be so forward and assume as age was a touchy topic for some of them. And there was again those nagging hints of nostalgic familiarity coming from her that were getting strong enough to scream out loud in frustration from. Luna's ass on a stick I was going insane chasing vague nostalgia.

“Oh!” Melody gasped, tears forming in her eyes as we all realized why this gentle mare was so soft spoken. “I-I’m s-sorry...I...I didn’t know.”

The mare shrugged and smiled again, writing down the words, ‘Don’t worry about it! I can still write just as good as I could talk! See?’ ending it again with another smiley face as one eye focused on Melody and Gold while the other was stuck gazing towards the ceiling.

“Ok...this is going to sound weird but…” I said as I pulled off my helmet to let her see my face in case that sparked some kind of a response from her. “I swear I know you from somewhere. I mean, far as I know I haven't met you before now Miss but for the love of Celestia there is something about you that just screams I know you...somehow.”

She smiled and cocked her head in thought before shrugging again prompting me to say, “My name is Athena Crete. And you are…?”

She happily scribbled on her chalkboard, erasing the previous writing with her fetlock (which was already pasty white from chalk dust), and held it up in her mouth for us to read.

‘My name is Ditzy Doo! It’s great to meet you Miss Crete! Your armor is really old. Looks like the old Desert Ranger armor from the posters. Where’d you get it?’

Ditzy...Ditzy Doo...now that definitely rang a bell in my head from my childhood years though I was still unsure as to where exactly I knew it from. Maybe she had another name?

“Sorry, real quick Miss Doo but...did you go by another name before the Great War…? I swear to hell I know you from somewhere.” I said quickly, feeling bad for interrupting her but I needed to figure this all out before my head exploded from unanswered questions.

She erased her writing again and answered, ‘Well, everypony back then called me Derpy Hooves if that helps any…I changed name since ponies kept making fun of me and Ditzy sounded less bad to them than Derpy for some reason.’

Holy fucking shit...she was my motherfucking mailmare growing up! Of all the ponies to meet in the Wasteland who was a genuine relic of the past like I was, the last pony I expected to meet (even as a Ghoul) was old Derpy Hooves. Growing up, she was the most reliable mailmare in Pony Ville and despite her tendency to knock some mailboxes over while flying her deliveries, she was the sweetest mare a filly could ever meet. Always smiled, grinned and handed out fresh baked goods to all the foals whom she met like the fancy ice cream wagons in Manehattan, though unlike them she didn’t charge an arm and a leg for something. Some of the kids picked on her for being a bit of an airhead and being uncoordinated but I adored her as did my mother who always invited her in for a quick bite to eat or just a simple drink of water during the hot summer months. She played a small part in my childhood (I almost never got mail except on my birthday which she always made sure to give me a birthday treat and proudly presented my birthday cards from my relatives) but she left a lasting impact on my life that couldn’t be dampened by anything. No wonder she felt so familiar even when she was so horribly disfigured by radiation and couldn’t speak...oh Goddesses what had happened to her…?

“Derpy!!!” I exclaimed as I hugged her tightly against me, ignoring her less than appetizing smell or her squishy Ghoul skin in favor of relishing in getting to hug this amazing mare once again. “Oh Goddesses how I’ve missed you!!!”

She blushed and pulled away long enough to write, ‘You look a bit young to remember me from back then...’

“You probably don’t remember me, I was just a filly back then but you should remember my mother.” I exclaimed rather excitedly. “She was the dentist in Pony Ville before it went to hell. Colgate Minuette? Tall dark blue mare with a white and blue mane? Patented the XtraWhite brand and had a big business? Surely you've seen some advertisements with her face on it since the War...”

She scrunched her face in thought for a good few moments, her eyes even then refusing to stay coordinated as one looked down and the other up and to the left. With a rather terrifying sounding gasp, she hugged me tightly before writing, ‘Are you her daughter?!’

I nodded excitedly, ecstatic that I had finally met somepony I actually knew from before the Great War. Not only that, but before the fucking War with the Zebras even started! And to think she had been living in New Appleloosa for who knew how long and I had completely missed her for the last...hell, few decades for all I knew. Three times I had been through town but my overabundance of ammo and spare rations had always ensured my short stays were spent in the Bronze Bell getting a nice Brahmin steak with bean sprouts. At no time had I needed to seek out the mercantile here and all I could do was lament the time lost between us. I had a pre-packaged friend in the Wastes and I didn’t even know it…

We talked (well, I did the talking and she wrote her responses) for a good hour about what had happened to each other in the time since I had moved away from PonyVille. I had left there with mom at the age of twelve to live in Manehattan up until the point where I enrolled in EastPoint right out of college. She had continued in PonyVille until her teenaged daughter had graduated high school and then moved to Canterlot to enroll her in the Canterlot University of Arcane Sciences and Engineering on a full-ride scholarship. Meanwhile, Derpy had started her own delivery business transporting various goods between Canterlot and Cloudsdale with her delivery wagon. On the day of the Great-War, she was more or less outside the direct blast radius of the Balefire Bombs that took out Cloudsdale but not far enough away to escape the magical radiation from the bombs going off. Wasn't long before she noticed the effects though.

Within several weeks of wandering the new Wasteland in a dazed state, she became the Ghoul who stood before me. Since then, she had gotten back into her business of supplying goods (even making deliveries on occasion) and had settled in New Appleloosa roughly forty years earlier because they didn’t have a reliable merchant yet. And being the gracious Soul that she was, she brought her skills back to the table and helped the little town thrive into a definite spot on the map. Like me, she used her immunity to radiation to scavenge in areas most others couldn’t and was so kind as to soak everything she found in those areas in RadAway before selling it to the general public. Her finds had brought the town a fair amount of wealth over the years and they had returned the favor apparently. Of the five train cars that formed her shop, four had been attached over time by the help of a grateful populous allowing her to only expand her selection and gain the attention of the Crimson Caravan that had just recently agreed to a trade union that would only see the town grow in size.

“Look, I’m glad you two are all BFF’s and what not but I gotta pee and my ass itches.” Chocolate sighed loudly after a while of listening to the two of us talk, Gold and Melody finding some other foals in town to talk and play with which made me smile, if at least on the inside.

“Oh...heh, sorry.” I said sheepishly to the poor mare still lashed to my back before turning back to Derpy and asking, “Never been in this part of town, mind pointing me in the direction of the public toilets?”

She smiled again and scribbled down, ‘Just over by the medical clinic there’s a public bathroom. Nothing fancy but it works! Would you like some help?’

Chocolate giggled and replied, “Hey, what’s better than one mare watching me take a piss? Two mares!”

Derpy’s cheeks flushed red and she scribbled, ‘Thanks? Not many ponies see me as a ‘mare’ really anymore.’

“You’re always a mare to me Derpy. You were one when I was six years old and you’re still one today. Sure, time hasn’t been kind to your looks but overall, you’re still gorgeous as you ever were.” I said affectionately, looking past her ugliness and recognizing the saint of a mare inside.

From there she led us to a medium sized shack nearby a whitewashed building with a somewhat crudely painted M.O.P yellow cross on it and nodded to the two doorways with small rusted blue signs hanging above the doors. To my amusement they were genuine Mare and Stallion bathroom signs taken from some Pre-War building, a new addition from the last time I had been around. She led us into the mare’s section that had homemade stalls separating individual metal troughs of sorts that led downwards into a hole in the ground. With a bucket of water set in each stall to ‘flush’ the toilets, it was as rudimentary as it could get but compared to most ‘bathrooms’ I saw in the Wastes...it was pretty fucking high tech. And that was really saying something.

“Wow! This is way better than what I’m used to!” Chocolate exclaimed, thankfully not mentioning Old Appleloosa as I had begun to fear as she spoke.

Derpy nodded with yet another smile and helped me position Chocolate in a good enough spot to relieve herself, being so kind as to hold the poor mare’s tail out of the way with her teeth to keep it at least somewhat clean. Since she was occupied with holding her tail, I couldn’t take this extra time to ask her some more questions about what she had been up to and so instead spoke to Chocolate to get her informed as to what laid ahead for us.

“So, I probably should just tell you this beforehoof just so you know kind of what to expect.” I said, continuing to hold her lower body off the ground with my magic. “I have an old friend in New Pegasus, a merchant by the name of Cogsworth. Great guy and super genius with technology, especially Pre-War tech. I’m not a hundred-percent certain but I’m pretty sure he has the stuff to make a pair of cybernetic limbs for you. I’ve seen a few ponies with them so I know they work but from what I’ve been told the procedure can be extremely painful. He’ll have to attach live nano-wires to each of your nerve endings and route electrical power generated by your heart into the actuators in the joints to allow them to move. Lotta moving parts, lotta expensive moving parts.”

“Honey…” Chocolate giggled as Derpy helped clean her up. “I’m just gonna tell you it like this. The scars on my ass ain’t from a beating, I asked for them. Pain and me go hoof in hoof all the way to happytown. I think I'll be ok, sugar.”

I grimaced as I understood what she was saying. Whips, chains, leather bodysuits and all that other weird kinky shit wasn’t my cup of tea. I did at one point have a collar and leash with Huckleberry’s name engraved on the tag but that was between her and I and was for special occasions. With this new revelation in mind, I was admittedly even more interested to see the procedure (more than just for the sheer scientific awesomeness) now that I knew there was a high chance to see a mare potentially orgasm by getting a new lib attached. Sure, I wasn’t into that kinky shit myself but never had I passed up a chance to see a girl cum. Well...save for once but that’s because she was a sick sadist who got off to bathing in blood and making out with decapitated heads. Needless to say hers joined her prized collection and I couldn't even get myself wet for a solid month without thinking about the gore.

From the restroom, we entered into the medical clinic where Chocolate came in handy by eliciting more than a few cries of dismay at her condition. With hardly having to say a word she had obtained us a hefty discount on medical supplies. Not only that but they also agreed to part with a bottle of E-S potion to bring Chocolate back to full health and remove all the scars, scabs and other blemishes she had gathered over a long hard life as a slave. When I told them I was planning on getting her fit for cybernetic legs, the mare in charge showed her training with the Followers of the Apocalypse and brought out her old textbooks for reference. After twenty minutes, her memory was brought back up to speed and she was able to perform a series of complicated enchantments on Chocolate's stumps, readying them for the upcoming procedure. Something about readying the nerve endings for splicing or whatnot. Although the spells were a success, we would have to hurry as they would only last for so long before needing to be performed again, something I didn't have the skill to replicate myself. This all sadly meant I would have to leave my friend sooner than I had thought.

At the revelation of our former relationship before the Great War, Derpy supplied us with almost everything we needed at a very low cost, so low I had to coerce her into cutting back on the generosity so she wasn't just giving the store away. Included was furnishing Melody with a pair of saddlebags and a modified set of filly sized body armor made out of a Kevyarn underbarding jumpsuit with riveted steel plates affixed to strategic points. When I asked her how she just so happened to have armor already in stock that fit her size, she simply grinned and pointed to her store’s name. Absolutely Everything...I hadn’t believed it the first time I had read the sign but after seeing everything on our grocery list save for medical supplies get fulfilled in one stop I had to give Derpy credit. She had everything anypony could need and I had the feeling that even such a crazy request as a Crystalline Fusion Core wouldn't be too big a challenge for her to obtain. Whatever her bubble cutie mark was supposed to represent, it failed to let on about how damned good a merchant she really was. Or mailmare for that matter...

Before we left and as I was filling the last few magazines on my person, I caught sight of Melody staring at the gun racks with a rather intense stare. Now that she was properly armored, it was more than fitting that she get a weapon even if I highly doubted she had any idea as to what kind of weapon she wanted. Based on her size, I wasn’t inclined to thinking she would be wanting to lug around a Battle-Saddle so a pistol of some sort made a lot of sense. Then again, she didn’t seem like the type who’d be comfortable fighting within pistol-range of something. A rifle would probably suit her best given the sum of known factors but was she up for the weight and recoil though? Military semi-auto carbines were pretty damn uncommon out West and I was iffy on whether or not she could manage a FillyArms lever-action. That was assuming she had anything in fair enough condition for me to feel safe buying and relying on.

“Oh, hey Derpy?” I asked, turning to her as she was storing the few hundred caps I had insisted she take for her more than generous deals on our supplies. “We need to get Melody here a weapon. Mind showing us the rifles you have in stock? I’ve got the feeling she’d be more into those than anything else.”

She took me over to where Melody stood who was ironically already in the rifle section and allowed me to browse through her modest collection of surprisingly well maintained arms. As I went, I would both feel their weight and check their calibers whilst also explaining to Melody about the different styles including the advantages and disadvantages of a bolt-action rifle versus a semi-automatic. I didn't even want to go into the more finnicky lever-actions to save her from having to learn too much about guns at once. I allowed her to take each rifle after I had finished my initial inspection and got feedback as to what she liked and disliked about each, her opinions surprisingly competent for her level of experience.

“Ooooh!” Melody exclaimed as I checked the bolt on an old M1 battle rifle with an attached scope. “I like that one!”

The M1 battle rifle, though older in model and design than some of the others, was in incredible shape and came with two clip pouches attached on the buttstock and a rather powerful scope which was mounted fore of the slide and action. While I was in the process of explaining to her the recoil from the M1's .30-06 round, I opened the action again to demonstrate only to discover this was a deviant model. I knew the M1 well, any fucking member of the Army who ever served real combat tours sure as hell did. It was the go-to standard battle rifle for Fireteams in need of a cheap, easily replaced weapon accurate at medium range. This little bugger however was an oddity. Whether it was some other short-lived project attached to the M1 Carbine development, I wasn't the walking expert. However, I knew for damn sure I had never come across one chambered in .308 Winchestnut.

"Well I'll be damned Melody..." I admitted with a whistle. "This actually might just work if you're sure this is the one you want. It's a weird kind of semi-auto so it's a little complicated to operate."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" She sang, bouncing on her hooves jubilantly much to my appreciation. "Tell me what I need to know!"

Derpy seemed surprised when we approached the counter with the oddball M1. Whereas my surprise was from its bore size and inclusion of a scope, her surprise seemed to be of a whole different sort.

'Looks like you found Oldie Goldie. Had that thing on my hooves for years but can't get rid of it.'

"That a fact?" I asked rather stunned. "A reliable model like that chambered in .308? Hell of a nice find with the price of .30-06s these days. What's the catch?"

She blushed sheepishly as she dug into one of the ammunition cabinets and retrieved two en-bloc clips, all scaled down to accommodate the smaller round.

'Only ever found these two clips that work for it unfortunately. Decent market for en-blocs of a normal size but this rifle seems to have been refitted by a talented gunsmith. Cheaper ammo over the normal rifle but sadly at the cost of clips. I don't have the tools to make them myself and it's been tough finding a willing buyer. Only two clips before you have to stuff new rounds into them again? That's a hard sell.'

"Ah. Well, that explains a lot then..." I hummed as I took one of the filled clips and demonstrated how it loaded for Melody to see. En-blocs were nifty but they were also known for being annoying to deal with, especially compared to traditional box magazines.

Once I felt satisfied she knew the basics of how the thing worked, I had to spend ten minutes alone attempting to persuade her to take at least something for the rifle, ammunition and the two clips. It was not easy, but I eventually managed to get her to agree to taking payment for the ammo and en-blocs but when it came to the rifle, she refused to budge an inch. Nothing I could say or do seemed to dissuade her from exerting her generosity as she saw fit.

When I demanded why, she simply scribbled down, ‘A filly deserves to be just as safe with a gun of her own as a mare like you or I are. Besides, like I told you, nopony has wanted to buy that old thing anyway and it ain't right to let a good gun go unused like this. That's just unfair to the person who made it!’

She ended the sentence yet again with another smiley face and I swept her up in yet another hug in a futile attempt to convey how grateful I was to her for her generosity when I honestly was a minor character in her own life. She hugged back with surprising strength and pulled away as another pony walked into the store asking for something special for his wife. Although I was busy helping Melody get the rifle properly slung across her back in a way that would make it both comfortable to travel long distances with but also be easily accessible, I couldn’t help but watch as the mare with absolutely everything presented the stallion with a fair collection of Pre-War gold jewelry for him to browse. It was difficult to say goodbye, especially after feeling invisible emotional strings begin to form between us that tempted me to stay but I had to pull away. Chocolate was on a tight schedule and I needed to pack my house up before it was hit hard by Green and his minions. If I played my cards right, there would be plenty of time to find time to come back here to pick up right from where we had left off. I had enjoyed speaking to her more than I had enjoyed any conversation in living memory and I was already feeling addicted to the euphoric high that came with it.

Before we left, I approached the San-Palomino Express Courier mailbox and pressed the secret lever built into the drop box that would deposit all the drugs we had taken from Jangle into a separate bin from the normal mail. The amount of bottles of Dash was immense, well worth over a million caps, and I deposited all boxes but two inside for him to do what he wanted with them. If I was going to have a hit on my ass, I might as well make it smaller than it could have been had I have taken all the drugs too. I only kept 50k worth of vials just as a tax for my own comfort and buried them towards the bottom of my bags. Along with my deposit was a short note meant for Green himself that explained why his money was missing and the real happenings behind what had occurred in Old Appleloosa. He was bound to get word of it soon enough anyway but I wanted him to hear it from me personally. While I ran out of paper long before I had finished what I had left to say about him, it felt great to let it go and get on with things. Life was going to change irrevocably, I had already seen to that the moment the first cap left that bag. It was time to nut-up and shut-up as the saying went.

As we began our trek northwest towards E-90 that led Northwest towards New Pegasus, Melody asked, “So...you’re really over two-hundred years old?”

I nodded as I donned my helmet once again, grateful for the much cooler air found inside.

"Guess I was being a bit obvious about that wasn't I?" I laughed sheepishly, wondering how that fact was gonna go down. "Yeah...I'm 236 to be exact as of this month."

“Huh...cool!” She giggled as she slowed down her pace to go walk beside Gold to show off her new gun excitedly.

I guess after all the shit she had seen, a two-hundred year plus old mare who still looked like she was thirty-one wasn’t going to be too odd a sight. Who was I to judge? I’d seen weirder myself during those years. In the end, I was just happy to see her smile and giggle like everything was right in the world. It was a small atonement I suppose for what I myself had done to make myself frown more often than I smiled...and all I wanted was to keep her smiling as long as possible no matter the cost.

I whispered the words ‘mother’ and ‘daughter’ over and over again, each time the words gained more meaning to me and began to feel more and more real. I wasn’t qualified in the least, what with my knack for killing and overly sexual nature and complete lack of experience raising a child but...I still wanted to try. Until I got the courage to ask (and the time felt right where she trusted me enough) it didn’t hurt to pretend to myself I was her mother. I mean...it made me happy and it was for once an actually pure thing for me to dabble in so...what was the harm?

Next Chapter: Chapter Fourteen: War Never Changes...But Should Morality? Estimated time remaining: 26 Hours, 6 Minutes