It had taken the better part of an hour to track down where Black Velvet had hid her house amidst the looming landscape of Freeside but eventually we managed to find it. It took a lot of asking around and backtracking thanks to misleading information but we finally found it nestled on the eighth floor of one of the apartment complexes that had managed to survive the Wasteland mostly intact. The building itself was located a mile-and-a-half away from my own house and had a nice view over the makeshift steel/stone wall thrown up around the Stirrup. Naturally this allowed one to view the long stretch of Freeside's main street towards the East Gate and the various buildings and casinos marking the way towards the Lucky 28 on the other side of the wall. At night, I could only imagine the room would be illuminated in the multicolored flashing lights provided by the casinos making for one of the best pieces of real-estate this side of Canterlot. Goddesses only knew what this place used to cost back in the day just for the view of the Stirrup.
The room itself we managed to get into easily, unlocking the door by using the key I had found around her neck during my quick pilfering of her corpse. While we had been expecting a bit more resistance in order to gain entry, we were not prepared for what was in the spacious and surprisingly comely apartment room. I had been expecting a more brutish Raider theme like spray painted skulls and menacing armor stands with the random gore pile in the corner as seemed to be common across Raider territory. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised at the soft red paint color of the walls and the neatly organized weapons racks and ammo canisters against them. Even the bed was neatly made with black sheets and bleached white pillowcases, a pair of old Equestrian Army magazines open on a bottom corner of the bed as if she had laid there reading them like a college schoolgirl in sweatpants and socks. The whole room was in stark contrast to the psycho bitch I had butted heads with for the last decade and it took me a few minutes to get my bearings after the shock.
“W-wow...not what I e-expected at a-all…” Gold commented as he poked at a pair of white and black striped socks hanging from the edge of a white plastic laundry hamper yellowed with age.
“Me too!” Melody giggled, jumping onto the bed and sighing loudly in contentment. “Oh yeah...I gotta get me one of these…”
“It would appear Miss Velvet was a mare of many faces.” Cogsworth said sagely as he stood beside me eyeing the room with interest. “I too was not expecting an abode so…”
“Organized?” I finished for him, walking immediately towards the weapon racks and seeing that every weapon had a corresponding label above it on the wall while every stack of ammo canisters were similarly labeled by caliber. “Shit, she’s even more OCD than I am. Of course she got to have the room to be this organized, my old place is a fucking shack compared to this shit. I knew I should have thought bigger but noooo...'smaller is easier to manage' I kept telling myself.”
Everywhere you looked, there was nothing rudely out of place. Even the dirty laundry (which comprised of mostly socks, panties, undershirts and a couple of Army patented khakis) was inside the basket rather than on the floor all around it. As Cogs and I began opening up her wardrobes and trunks scattered about the room, Melody pulled the sheets over herself and almost immediately fell asleep followed soon after by Gold who respectfully curled up on top of the covers nearby.
“It seems as though Miss Velvet attempted to plan for any incursion.” Cogsworth mentioned as we rifled through the third of six wardrobes, each containing a completely different set of armor, weapons, and equipment.
In the first, we had found an armored Advanced Environmental Suit given a black paint job and a dull red visor rather than the standard neon yellow suit and silver colored visor. Alongside it came smoke grenades (all black), suppressed Colt 2012 pistols in .45 Automag (also black) and a beautiful M14 with all the bells and whistles. It was obvious this set up was for stealth based hits in highly hazardous zones (like downtown Manehattan or the whole of Stalliongrad) but I couldn’t help but wonder if there were a bit of vanity involved in the color palate. After all, a red visor like that would be difficult to make let alone come by naturally in the Wastes. Especially if it was made of titanium quartz.

The second was clearly made for heavy fighting as it contained a set of salvaged T-45 Power Armor that had clearly been taken from one of the NER’s Shock Troopers who were infamous for wearing these heavy-as-fuck beasts into combat. While the Steel Rangers enjoyed the benefits of a working spell-matrix and functional joint servos negating the sheer weight of the metal, the NER boys weren’t so lucky. While they could manufacture things like the Mrk. II Ranger armor, they lacked the technical skill to get any of the finer components like the microfilament crystal fibers or spell-matrix functional leaving them without some of the best attributes of the armor. As a consequence of their lack of technology specialists, they had to make do with Power Armor that had been stripped of its servos, had no HUD or internal computer and was missing the large, broad shoulder guards and kneecaps of a functional suit of T-45 to save on the dead weight. The symbol of the NER, a horseshoe imbedded with three stars and featuring a Unicorn horn flanked by Pegusi wings in the center, was painted over with the same black paint used previously on the Environmental Suit. However, it was possible to see the faint white outline of the horseshoe peeking out from under the new paint job betraying the armor's origin. For weaponry, there was a Battle-Saddle hooked up to a pair of modified MG 338s, a find that was perhaps more surprising than even the state of her room given the prototype status of the weapon last I had heard of it. Amusingly though, I noticed quickly that the beastly LMG's teeth weren't nearly at their full potential as it was currently chambered for the far more common 5.56mm round than its original .338 Norman Magnus. Not surprising given the ammunition's origin out of Mareseilles that was stingy on the exports to begin with let alone now after the world had ended.

Within the third cabinet was where we literally hit the jackpot finding a vast collection of jewelry and a pair of safes shut tight against our intrusion. I wasn’t trained in lockpicking and Cogsworth, despite his best efforts to look like he knew what he was doing, failed to open them using the single key we had been able to find on her body. Had there been a terminal locking them electronically, Cogs would have had them open as soon as looking at them.

“Gold? You mind giving us a hoof darling?” I asked him quietly so as to not wake up Melody who lay with a pillow over her face to block out the sunlight streaming through the window.

“Hmm…?” He asked groggily, raising his head with obvious reluctance. “W-with what…?”

“We’ve got a couple of locks for you to pick open for us, pretty please.” I asked him nicely, pointing at the pair of safes on the other side of the room.

He rolled out of bed with an excited grin on his face and charged at the steely black boxes, a pair of bobby pins and a battered red screwdriver flying out of his makeshift saddlebags. I drew close as he prepared to work hoping to learn a little by observation how he managed to open locked objects with two of the most mundane objects I could think of after a can opener and a bag of jellybeans. After bending the pins at a 90 degree angle, he wiggled the wavy end into the lock while setting the flat headed screwdriver into the keyhole, twisting it slightly to the right adding tension to the bobby pin. He wiggled the pin and carefully turned it a quarter of an inch to the right before trying the screwdriver again, the lock turning a little more than halfway towards opening. He sighed softly, turning the pin a little more to the right before trying again and making it nearly there. It was as tedious a process to watch as it was to perform.

“F-fuck me…” He sighed as there was a tiny snap and the pin broke off, forcing him to pull out the broken piece and use his other pin. “Half turn p-past three...b-back one quarter…”

I could only guess at what he was mumbling about and watched in fascination as he wiggled the little bit of metal about, trying the screwdriver every few seconds until the lock finally clicked and the door swung open slightly on its silent hinges. His face flushed with the look of victory as he removed the pin, bent it back into shape and slipped it into his mane where I observed lay a small collection of other seemingly ‘lucky’ pins he had used in the past. He was such a quirky Ghoul.

“N-nothing to it!” He declared with a grin, dropping the screwdriver into his bags. “J-just takes a l-little patience. That w-was a tough one t-though.”

“You’ve gotta teach me that little trick of yours.” I beamed as I patted him on the head and opened the safe to see what was inside.

I was not disappointed at the large sacks of caps stuffed into the safe by its previous owner and began tossing them to Cogsworth for counting using the large, portable money counter he had designed especially for large sums of caps that ponies brought in for his products. The machine was such a hit that everypony from the Gun Runners to the casinos scrambled to get one for themselves and their business. As the machine noisily clinked its way through bag after bag of caps, sorting them into bags of two-hundred each, Gold used one of his lucky pins to crack open the second safe, this one filled with comic books sealed in thick plastic bags. This was where the real money was, the bags of caps be damned.

“Holy shit, is this a Dave the Barbarian issue #1?!” I exclaimed causing Gold to jump and Cogsworth to look up from his counting for a moment.

“D-Dave the Barbarian?” Gold asked, peeking at the pristine cover obscured partially by the thick clear plastic. “T-the comic b-book series?”

The series had only been around for a decade or so by the time I was able to read but there was no mistaking the ripped brown stallion dressed in a tattered leather loincloth wielding a huge battle axe on the cover. ‘Blood on the Hearth’, Issue #1, printed in 2035 and in mint condition. The more I learned about Velvet, the more inclined I was to call her a bit of a nerd.

“There’s more in here!” I cried out, not so much from fangirling over the comics but over the price they would fetch at The Pile to the right collector, maybe even one from the Stirrup itself.

“W-what’s so special about a c-comic book?” Gold asked, looking at the stack of plastic wrapped gold bars sitting in the safe. “I-it’s just a k-kid’s book…”

“That it is, buuuutttt!” I declared, pulling out the rest of the sixty-volume collection with as much care as a mother with her newborn. “These are in mint condition! You would not believe how much money ponies will blow for this shit!”

“H-how much…?” Gold asked to which Cogsworth answered.

“ At least a fifty-thousand for that mere copy alone.” He chuckled, sorting the bags he had finished filling and stuffing them into his saddlebags. “If not more! Geek shit like this has always been a goldmine at auctions, even before the War. I remember this one original storyboard art for some movie back in the day selling for like three-million; trust me, this here is something rich weirdos would die to get their hooves on.”

“F-fifty t-thousand?!” Gold exclaimed, stepping back from the comics as if his mere presence would lower their market value. “L-let’s go s-sell them right now!”

“Hold on there champ.” I giggled, dragging him back by the tail as he attempted to run out the door. “We’re here for charity purposes first. If we manage to pay off the angry ponies of Freeside and have some leftovers, you can have your pick of what’s left, k? Just don't spend it all at one place and probably want me to handle the money so it doesn't burn a hole in your saddlebags. Trust me, I've been there too.”

He stared at me in silent awe and didn’t speak until after we had finished ransacking the entire house (keeping the key just in case) and were on our way back to Cogsworth’s workshop. Between myself, Cogsworth and the three Mr. Helper robots loaded down with enchanted saddlebags, we had managed to cart off every single item of value in the house leaving just the bed, a single pillow, some sheets and a few rolls of T.P in the bathroom just as backups in case we needed a safe house. I had noticed during my final sweep of the bathroom a single note taped to the edge of the mirror that seemed to be the life motto Velvet had based her entire existence off of. 'Pump fear into the hearts of your enemies and if that doesn't work, pump them with a full magazine instead.' Not a bad sentiment I suppose.

The walk back to the shop took little time at all and the streets of Freeside were filling with ponies who all took notice of our passage but said nothing, following slowly behind us as we made our way towards the place we had told them to gather. There was inevitably going to be those who didn't belong in the group but they would be dealt with in time.

“Who are they?” Melody asked as we passed a group of mares and a few stallions dressed in black leather jackets and sporting sunglasses with large pistols strapped visibly to their hind legs.

“Ah, those are the Queens!” I responded with a grin, happy to see them finally out patrolling the streets after a month-long absence. “They’re the local good-guy gang that protect Freeside. They keep things relatively stable around here although this is the first time I’ve seen them in over a month. They all kind of disappeared for some reason and nopony knew why. But anywho, looks like they’re back! And just in time too...this whole shit with Green is bound to stir up even more trouble around here…”

“Wowie…” She said quietly before asking, “Why do they all dress like that with those funny looking mane styles?”

It was true that alongside their choice in clothing was a strange manestyle unique to those members of the Queens who had been deemed members in full by the Queen herself. The look, which was known as the Polished Pompadour, took the long bangs of a mare’s hair and folded them back on themselves using an exorbitant amount of mane gel and time in front of a mirror resulting in a look that had once belonged to the famous Pre-War singer known today only as The Queen. Despite my insistence that her real name was Blue Suede (as I very well knew from the records mom used to play) the Queen and her underlings refused to call their idol by anything other than her unofficial stage name as the Queen of Rock and Roll. At least they kept up with her eccentric legacy if some of the details of her life were more fiction than fact.

“The Queens are a bit eccentric…” I explained, wishing we were further to the northeast side of Freeside where the Queens H.Q was located so I could show her the famous images of Blue Suede in all her fame and glory. “There was a singer back when my mom was an itty bitty filly named Blue Suede. She changed the music industry so much with her new style of music that she was named the Queen of Rock and Roll even after her death. Here in Freeside, there’s a building dedicated to her and ponies who aspired to impersonate her from back in the day since that was a big thing here in Las Pegasus for some reason. The Queens...they're like a minor cult to be perfectly fucking honest. They dress like her, they talk like her if they can and they all obey the Queen like she’s the modern day reincarnation of the dead singer herself. Now...whether or not that is actually true...ugh, what am I saying? Of course it's fucking ridiculous to even consider it. Why, of all ponies, would the gift of reincarnation be given to a fuckin' rock star from nearly 300 years ago?”

We caught the attention of a pair of Queens ahead of us who trotted towards us with smug smiles beneath their black aviator sunglasses. At least I was on decent enough terms with these weirdos, otherwise I'd be expecting a gunfight in the streets. In that case, at least we had some shit like the Power Armor to use as portable cover and Cogs was accompanied by a retinue of Mr. Helpers brought along to help haul the cargo.

“Well, look what the sandstorm blew back in.” One of them said, her fake accent convincing enough to pass for a Blue Suede impersonator. “What brings you back around, baby?”

I inwardly sighed as I didn’t like being called baby by anyone other than Hucks and maybe a few others that I felt comfortable around. It just didn't feel or sound right.

“I live here, girls, I case you forgot that. Now, would you mind going back to your shit so I can get to mine? I’m on a tight schedule here.” I replied, gesturing back to the wall they had been previously leaning against and drinking Cola.

“Quite the posse ya got there baby.” The other said, a stallion who pulled off the Queen hairstyle and sunglasses way better than the mare did somehow. “What ya got Cogsworth with you for? Hauling a lotta pricey cargo there too I see?”

“Mind your own business, baby.” I retorted, brushing past him and flicking my tail in his direction.

“Whoa, hold up!” He called out to me. “The Queen wants to have a word with ya.”

“That’s great!” I replied, looking back at him with the most sarcastic face I could pull off. “Tell her she can wait because I’ve got some important shit to do first. When I’m done, sure. I’ll go fucking see her. But I ain’t done yet so why don’t you two go back to your wall and leave me and my ‘posse’ alone alright? Just like you left Freeside completely alone for the last fucking month, eh?”

Their faces went from smug to furrowed and the stallion flipped me the hoof as I turned away, an old Pre-War move that was to this day still very popular in modern Wasteland culture. It was a simple gesture. You just jabbed your (usually) left hoof straight in the air while slapping your other hoof into the joint of your front knee at the same time. The louder the slap of hoof on knee, the more pissed off and obscene you ended up coming off as. The simplest gestures were always the ones that stood the test of time after all.

“Why does the Queen want to talk with you?” Melody asked, looking back at the Queens with a concerned expression. “Was it smart to be mean like that to them…?”

“Why? I don’t know; probably wants to ask me to get my ass out of Freeside because of the problems I’m causing with Green. Smart? Eh...probably not in the long-run but we’ve got shit to do in the short-run and we can't be worried about them just yet. When we’re done with restitutions and get what we need from the Dark Market, then we can go and see the Queen and see what’s up with her. I actually have some questions of my own that I want her to answer like where the hell has she been for the last month and a half and why they haven’t been out on the streets taking care of Green’s bullshit for me. Not that it's their job to do that but by fuck it's in both our best interests that Freeside be free of Green's goons pulling bad shit trying to get to me.”

“Athena…” Cogs sighed as we entered back into The Pile, the ponies eying our parade of hooves and robots with both interest and hesitation. “You know as well as I that the Queens would feign involve themselves in your predicament. After all, it is of thine own creation and not their matter in the slightest. He who stokes the coals must face the fire. Or should I say she who stokes the coals must face the fire.”

I rolled my eyes with a silent growl of begrudging agreement. I was the one who had decided to ‘squander’ Green’s caps on freed slaves, not the Queens nor the citizens of Freeside. That all being said, it was still in their best interest to handle the rabble being caused on the streets. The path to the Workshop was almost impassable from the sheer amount of ponies, Griffins and others who stood in line before the locked doors of Cogsworth’s shop awaiting their financial compensation for the deeds of Black Velvet. As we passed through, the crowd erupted in booing, profanity laden jeers of derision of my name and reputation. It was humiliating to hear my name attached to such words as ‘murderous cunt’, ‘fucking monster’ and ‘Green’s cock-sucking slave’ but I held my head as high as I dared and kept my helmet in my saddlebags so they could see my face. If they were going to hurl insults at me, they were going to say them to my face and not my visor.

“Fuck you!” Melody shrieked as we reached the doors, her body shaking with rage and the terrifying monster inside her glowering in her mismatched eyes. “Fuck all of you! I would be fucking dead or still sucking Slaver dick if it weren’t for her! She’s a better mare than any of you fucking assholes, you hear me?! What has she done to any of you huh?! Far as I know she’s done her killing outside of this fucking place and protected you from Raiders and this is how you repay her?! She owes you nothing and yet she’s giving you what she can for the bullshit of a mare who’s actually done you guys wrong! What the fucking fuck?!?!”

The crowd was in stunned silence as they gazed upon the scrawny, malnourished girl who stood firmly before them like a warrior facing down the horde. Her body was shaking head to tail in unspeakable rage while her small horn sparkled angrily as it held her rifle aloft. I too stood in shock as I looked at the scrawny little mare I had taken into my heart standing as boldly as one of the fictional heroes from the novels mom had read to me as a filly more than half her age.

“Come.” Cogsworth beckoned softly as the doors clicked open and he ushered in his robots laden with their bags. “We have work to fulfill to these good people.”

I reached out slowly and touched her on the shoulder, a small gasp coming from her mouth as she seemed to break out of the trance that had rooted her firmly to the ground beneath her, the height of the skywalk entirely ignored or forgotten. Tears filled her eyes and she flung herself into my embrace wailing softly while the stunned crowd continued to stare on in anxious silence. With my daughter in my arms, I retreated as dignified as I could into the shop and shut the door behind me, utterly bewildered by the flood of conflicting emotions coursing through my breast as I tried my best to comfort the sobbing child in my arms. I didn't have the skills necessary to handle this shit...

“Cogs...you start sorting things out for me ok…?” I asked softly as I walked past him and Gold who were beginning to unpack the load of materials we had taken from Black Velvet onto the many tables of the Workshop.

He nodded and I retreated with the still crying Melody into the privacy of the Stable where she and I could be alone to talk things out. Sitting onto my cot, I decided that I was improperly dressed for the role of a comforter being encased in a steel shell, Melody clinging to my right hoof as I stripped free of my armor. When I finally reached the point where I had just my right bracer, boot and duster sleeve left to remove, I pressed my left hoof to her chest and gently tugged on the right, smiling softly as she switched hooves and allowed me to finish undressing, her warm tears trickling down my hooves and soaking the fur of my fetlock.

Finally comfortable, I lifted her up, taking notice of her extremely light weight, and laid back on my cot, laying her small form against my chest like a sleeping cat with its owner. She wrapped her thin legs around my chest and continued to cry into the fur of my breast while I cooed softly to her and pet her back slowly with one of my hooves, the other placed gently but firmly on the back of her tender little head. In the minutes that passed as her sobs wore themselves down to quiet sniffles and the occasional gasp for air, I could feel her heart racing like a snare drum against my chest, the rhythm progressively slowing down as if to keep in pace with the steady, healthy beat of my own beating back against hers. The air was strained, as if the peace and tranquility of my first true motherly moment would be shattered at any moment by the appearance of Cogsworth informing me that the horde of assholes had arrived...but somehow I found myself at peace. No tension was coiled up in my gut against the intrusion like the anxious agony that spearheaded the lead up to when the alarm clock is about to play the most obnoxious sound imaginable. Rather...the moment settled peacefully in my spine and breast with the warm, happy glow of a hot bath. The same feelings of safety and love filled me then like they had on those long, tense nights as a filly as the world descended into madness around me. Only this time...I was the mother. The bringer of warm feels and sweet dreams.

“You were very brave…” I finally whispered to her after I felt it safe to speak. “To stand up to them like that...for me. A mare you’ve only known for not even two weeks…”

All I got were sniffles in response but her hooves clung tighter to my chest and her tiny heart slowed down even more against my own. It was true, I was very proud of her. Her bravery was encouraging and made a lasting impression on my love for her. Who was I to her? A rescuer? A defender? Somepony to cling to in the muted darkness of an unfinished Stable in New Pegasus? Who was I to be on the receiving end of such a brazen declaration of support from somepony a miniscule fraction of my age? What had I done to be so blessed...?

“I-I owe you my life…” She finally breathed out, her voice wet and heavy with emotion. “I-I would be dead...gone forever…”

“They wouldn’t have killed you Mel-” I began before she cut me off.

“N-not them...m-myself…” She whispered in so small a voice I had to strain my brain to understand them. “T-there was an old...r-rusty knife I found...I-I know i-it works…”

She lifted her slender leg up and pressed down the silky dark azure fur of her fetlocks showing six jagged scars that had escaped the cleansing of the healing potions of earlier. I knew what they were without having to ask. It just made sense...with nowhere safe to turn, Death’s embrace would seem like the call of freedom she needed. Instead I was the one who answered the call. Holy shit, I had answered the call and saved her from suicide. It was a realization that was too heavy for my poor mind to handle even if I were feeling my best.

“You’re...you’re very welcome, Melody.” Was all I was able to say, anything longer or more detailed than that dying before it even reached my throat.

We laid there for another few minutes, the dull glow of a distant light in the Atrium sustaining us in the pleasant gloom of our embrace until Cogsworth entered into the room, the bright white light of his PipBuck screen illuminating his surroundings with surprising clarity for something strapped to his foreleg. He gazed upon Melody and I with a tender smile, one that spoke volumes about his feelings for my change in heart and I could tell it pained him to have to break the sanctity of the moment with the announcement he had to make.

“Do sincerely pardon mine intrusion,” He began as quietly as he could, Melody slowly looking back at him with wet eyes and a damp muzzle that gleamed softly in the light. “But it is time we begin. There is much to be done.”

I nodded and began to rise as Melody’s hooves clung around me even tighter, the strength behind them surprising given her small build and she whispered, “J-just another minute or two...please.”

I laid back down without another word and kissed her small horn with all the love I had ever reserved for Huckleberry back in the day, the gentle kiss causing a few red violet sparks to fizzle out of the tip and onto my nose, tingly and warm. I had to suppress a giggle as they tingled and fizzled out on my face as I realized her horn was very sensitive to touch.

“You ready to go darling…?” I asked after three minutes or so had passed and the weight of the impending situation started pressing down on my mind.

“M-mhm.” She nodded, gently letting go of me and allowing me to stand up being perfectly content to be set down on the ground like a lazy cat. “Let’s go.”

She stood on the tips of her hooves and gave me a wet peck on the cheek before nuzzling into my shoulder with a small, happy sigh.

“You called me your daughter back there…” She said softly as we walked down the stairs to the Stable entrance where the door stood partially open for us to leave. “Did you mean it…?”

I nodded, smiling sheepishly as I realized it was forward of me to assume the official title of mother out loud without asking her first but the look on her face was one of adoration and timid desire.

“Absolutely.” I replied, stopping just short of the exit into the Workshop and facing her. “What Black Velvet said about me hating kids...that’s...that’s changed a bit now. Ever since I met you...you remind me of Huckleberry. Maybe not in mannerisms and personality but...in the feelings you elicit in my heart. She was the mare I loved above anyone else in the world...aside from my own mom heh...but really. Huckleberry was the love of my life and...when I lost her, I lost myself as well. And honestly considering the new world I was entering, the Wasteland, in many ways it was for the best. The world I knew and the mare I was were all burnt and dead and I had to adapt. It’s what kept me going all these years...killing off my heart saved me from killing myself.”

“But...now I’m here and...that part of you is coming back to life?” She asked softly, seeming to understand a bit more of the full scope of her importance to me.

“Exactly. You may not be Huckleberry...but you’re filling the hole she left in my heart.” I replied, hugging her tight and then realizing I was naked and defenseless against any pony who had potentially come to kill me for some reason or another.

“Be right back.” I chuckled nervously, gesturing to my scared body. “Mommy’s gotta get dressed.”

She giggled softly and hugged my leg indicating she wasn’t about to leave my side. My cheeks flushed red at the thought of her watching me change but...given how cute she was, I wasn’t about to deny her nor myself that possibility.

“Alright Cogs, what’s the situation?” I asked, joining him a few minutes later with Melody still attached to my side, nuzzling into me despite the hard steel she was rubbing up against.
“Well...I will not lie by saying the situation is a simple matter.” He replied, speaking over the din of numerous talking voices in the store on the other side of the curtain separating us from them. “They come as a legion. Far more than I anticipated.”

I slipped my helmet back onto my head and turned on a powerful thermal filter allowing me to see through the relatively thin walls of the Workshop and into the store itself. As he said there were easily several hundred ponies crammed into the store, the Mr. Handies on duty doing their best to keep them in order as they impatiently waited for what had been promised them.

“Damn...where the hell did they all come from?” I asked, pulling it back off and setting it on the workbench next to me that supported the weight of a dismantled suit of T-45 Cogs had been stripping down sometime earlier. “I know Velvet has fucked over a lot of ponies here in Freeside but this is way too many. She didn’t kill that many people around here. Couldn't have, even with her big sister being so willing to forgive and forget and force the Syndicate to do the same with large sums of cash.”

“I-I think its because you b-basically announced f-free money…” Gold commented as he peeked between the gap in the curtain and the doorway out. “T-that tends to draw ponies in l-like Hellhounds t-to raw meat.”

That made sense even if it was fucking ridiculous. I was here to pay off ponies who had been directly affected by Velvet, not give free money away to random ponies. That was the job of the gamblers of New Pegasus who felt generous enough to toss a few caps in the rusted tin cans of the beggars lining the road to the Stirrup. Just being alive wasn't enough of a reason to get paid for shit you didn't earn.

“How the hell are we supposed to figure out who actually deserves the money and who doesn’t?” I asked, looking between everyone including Chocolate for any ideas. “Far as I know, 90% of those yahoos out there don’t even know who Velvet is let alone have a personal stake in her estate. They probably got told by friends or neighbors that the Ranger is giving away free shit. I like Freeside but fuck me...I might as well toss buckets of caps into the crowd and let them fight amongst themselves for their compensations.”

“That could become problematic when it comes time to toss in the Power Armor…” Cogsworth chuckled, nodding to the reassembled set of armor standing with locked joints near the doorway.

“Why don’t we ask them to tell us what Velvet did to them that is deserving of money?” Melody suggested.

“That would work if there wasn’t half the Equine population banging on our door. God I wish I knew how to do one of M.O.M’s mind rapes...that would make this so much easier...” I sighed, leaning against the workbench and panicking slightly as I felt it creak from the added weight of my body. “Welp, I’m just gonna wing it. Hopefully my reputation holds some weight for this situation, scare the bitches who shouldn't be here away.”

Steeling myself against the impending jeers I stepped through the curtain to face the crowd who, as my helmet had shown, was packed as tightly as a can of pickled carrots in the warehouse turned shop. The Mr. Handies occasionally could be heard over the din scolding those who attempted to pilfer some of the items on the shelves into their pockets. Melody stood by my side in silence, her expression firmly displaying her dislike for the ponies before us while Cogsworth and Gold eyed them with a hint of trepidation from my left. This crowd had some unfriendly vibes coming from its midst so this was going to have to be handled with more care than I wanted to put into something right now.

Turning on the external speaker on my helmet and setting it for the setting reserved only for riot control, I raised my voice above the crowd and yelled out, “Attention everyone! The amount of ponies here is far too many than Velvet could ever personally effect. If you are just here to get a handout, I kindly ask you to fuck off and make way for those who have actually lost something or someone to Velvet. You know who you are. Be an adult and get your freeloading ass outta here.”

The crowd went silent the moment I had begun speaking and I spied more than one in view cower as if they had been spotted, confirming my fear that at least some of them had come here hoping to get a free bag of money. With a wave of my hoof pointing towards the door, more than half of the crowd filed out, grumbling and shouting insults in my direction. Their words bounced off me like 9mm rounds would against my armor, doing no damage and leaving no impact as I was beyond feeling for them. I was already way out of my comfort zone having to be around so many ponies at once let alone having to placate a rumbling crowd who all wanted a piece of the pie from me.

“Alright, the rest of you...I’m still getting the feeling there’s still plenty of you people looking for a handout and are going to try and lie your way into Velvet’s estate. Fuck off now before I make you, please. I’ve had a long day and I want to get this over with so I can get back to my own affairs. I'd really rather not have to clock one of you in the jaw for being an ass.”

About a dozen more filed out leaving me with a crowd of a little less a hundred. Still a sizable crowd to process but much more manageable and realistic than before. A pair of Mr. Handies zoomed out of the room following the crowd calling out thievery while Cogsworth shot after them, his face stern but composed as he chased after the would-be thieves. I pitied the dumb fools as Cogs would be more than well within his right to vaporize the fuckers with his favorite energy rifle.

“Alright...I guess I’ll just have to go from here.” I sighed, taking a seat on the padded stool Cogsworth used in front of one of the cash registers. “Let’s do this in an orderly fashion please. Anypony caught cutting in line is going to be shot and I ain't gonna stand for little bitches crying about it.”

“Mom!” Melody cried out in shock, staring at me critically.

“Fine...you won’t be shot but I’m going to ignore your ‘new place’ and toss your ass to the end of the line.”

For the next two hours I sat there, hearing the stories of grieving husbands, wives and orphaned children pleading their case to me regarding the wrongs done to them by Black Velvet during her tenure in Freeside. Some were complete bullshit from the moment they opened their mouths and I was unafraid to call them out at the glaring plot holes in their narratives. I showed these fools no pity, even if they were legitimately impoverished families with strong cases on their own. Charity was not something I was used to giving and I was giving it on my terms; to give out money to every hoof that reached out for it would leave little for those who actually deserved the cash. Many stories however were genuinely gut wrenching as they related the horrible brutality of Velvet’s methods. Melody clung to my side the entire time, stuffing her ears every time someone mentioned losing a child, a notion I wished I too could perform given my new status in life. Unfortunately I wasn't at liberty to stuff my hooves into my ears lest I render this entire process fucking pointless.

Money was dealt out as fairly as my marketing skills could allow. I found it incredibly difficult to put a price on any of the lives I was taking on myself to rectify. To undershoot would be insulting to all parties involved while overpaying meant less for the next victim. I couldn’t help but pay out more to the grieving mothers than others as the pain of losing Melody, as new to my long life as she was, would be enough to drive me insane once more and I felt for the poor mothers who had lost children. The whole process left me numb...I couldn't even bring myself to think of all the prices I had been paid over the years. All the times I had been a Slaver in a sense...weighing the price of a living Soul in monetary terms.

It seemed as though Velvet had a tendency to kill everypony in the house when she went out on a hit. It was common knowledge as I’ve said before not to leave witnesses but she seemed to take that rule to the extreme. Many of us performed our kills in the openness of the Wasteland where the terrain favored those of us who had a skill behind a scope or simply wanted the privacy of the desert. Plus, the body would be devoured soon by Feral creatures saving you the hassle of cleaning up after yourself so everypony but the target was a winner. Velvet instead seemed to favor the Doctor’s Classic, the making of house calls to cure her targets of that thing called life. House calls were too much of a mixed bag for me, especially when dealing with targets involved in the drug trade. One house could be a couple junkies too doped outta their minds to even recognize they were dead and the next could be a dozen well armed junkies in a drug-induced rage who aren't afraid to use frag grenades indoors. No...the best ROE was '300 meters or more, big time score'.

I was mentally and emotionally exhausted by the time the last pair came up, a mother and a teenaged stallion who looked like they had seen too many days of too little food. I had already exhausted all the caps in Velvet’s collection plus pretty much everything else leaving me with just the set of salvaged Power Armor that still stood inside the Workshop just beyond the doorway. It was worth a solid 3,500 caps given its protective qualities and the relatively good maintenance it had seen while in Velvet’s possession though I had held back on it given its price and niche uses. I had reluctantly given away the armored Environmental Suit to a mare who claimed to work in hazardous areas farming rare vegetables she had been cultivating for years. While it was a bummer to part with such a work of armored art, I was pleasing to know that it was going to such an intriguing cause which made the pain of parting with it so soon more bearable.

“K...what’s your stake here?” I asked with a tired yawn, trying not to appear disinterested or bored in their story even though I had heard variations of the same general story several dozen times already.

“P-please Miss…” The mare squeaked softly, immediately giving away the fact she was here for a handout. “W-we have nothing...t-the NER came through...t-took everything...called it ‘taxes’...we’re not even citizens of the Republic. We have no home, no money...nothing.”

It was a narrative I heard already a few times before. Given the consistency, I had to concede the fact that the NER collection agency had been through town while I was away to Appleloosa. It wasn't uncommon for the NER to overstep their bounds and try to tax the poor folks of Freeside just for being too inconsequential to Mr. House to be considered citizens. While they had an Embassy within the walls of the Stirrup, there was no military presence allowed within two miles of the whole of New Pegasus. That being said, the civilian side was a lot more in the grey zone and so indiscriminate taxation was a tolerated behavior so long as it was done in negligible numbers. All they had to do was threaten access to the communal food bank the NER provided as a political and PR tool to assert some modicum of control over the city. I had already been forced to turn away well over a dozen such victims who had been eaten out of what little home they had lest they lose complete access to the NER food donations. It was a cruel practice any way you sliced it but that was not my concern at the moment. However...she was the last one in line…

“I understand.” I sighed, nodding to the Mr. Handies that stood nearby awaiting my command to bring out another item. “Get the Power Armor please.”

“As you command Madame!” They chortled in unison before gliding away into the back, the sound of machinery following suit.

“P-Power Armor…?” The mare gasped. “B-but why…? Don’t you have some caps to spare…?”

“Sorry, but I’m completely cleaned out of everything but the Power Armor.” I replied, watching as the heavy material was carried out between the two robots and set on the ground with a heavy thud. “You don't have a stake in Velvet's estate, you said as much yourself. So, either ya fuckin take what I'm offering or hit the road. I'm tired from doing this for hours on end, you shouldn't be here so take advantage of my extremely rare show of charity. I'm only making this offer once.”

She hesitantly approached the towering armor that stood almost a head above her and put a hoof to the black breastplate before looking back at her son who likewise gazed at the Armor with amazement. I was a bit too harsh I knew somewhere in the small part of my mind that remembered what manners were but I really was beyond caring. Regardless of their reasons, they were still freeloaders. I just...happened to not have a need for Power Armor. Especially one missing everything that put Power in its name.

“It’s in damn good condition, made from high-carbon steel over a StableTec chassis although the generation doesn't really matter; the joint servos have been removed and the spell matrix is offline and more than likely removed. But, you’d be hard pressed to find better protection in the Wastes...if you can carry the thing that is. It should fetch a good 2,000 caps to the right buyer given the condition and custom paint job. A good place I recommend here in The Pile would be a place like Ironside's Glorious Gun and Armor Emporium, they always take anything B- grade quality and above. If you can get the full 2k, that's more than enough to get you a place in New Appleloosa. I was just there a few days ago and it looked like they had more than a few empty homes for sale. Might be a better place for the two of you since it's way to far South for the NER to bother you.”

The mare looked back at her son and a silent conversation seemed to happen between them before she turned to me and said, “We’ll take it. I'm not sure what first we will do with it but...we appreciate the offer. I...I'm sorry for butting into something I had no business getting into.”

I waved a hoof to silence her from apologizing any more than was necessary and replied, "Think nothing of it. Before you leave however, I feel I should explain how it operates in the event you wish to keep it for whatever reason."
From there, I brought the armor around the counter and set it before them in order to demonstrate how to climb into it given that it was more like a vehicle than a traditional suit of armor. Luckily the basic pneumatics of the frame still functioned properly allowing for entry into the heavily armored beast. Located on the back, beneath the large air tanks that could connect to the helmet in case of the need for EVA or toxic air situations, was a small but sturdy latch which caused the suit to open up like an armored shell. The back of the legs and the entire backplate itself swung open like cabinet doors allowing you to climb into the suit, your hooves being placed on padded rests and the armor closing shut over your body. Originally, there would have been a fine mesh of microfilament crystal and metal wires that would conform around the body once the EVA seal was established allowing the wearer to enter and move the armor about without the need of special underbarding. I knew this because I would sometimes wonder what the DRC could have accomplished had they saw fit to add a light power frame to the Mrk. IVs allowing Alpha and I to even better match our Tin Head rivals. Of course these thoughts had a way of transforming themselves into an unironic study of Power Armor during the scarce chances I had to examine them as my idle thoughts began to demand my genuine interest in the answer.

“How are we to take this with us…?” The mare asked, looking at the stairs leading up to the skywalk connecting the shop with The Pile. “If it's as heavy as you say than neither of us will be able to walk in it.”

“Well, do you plan to sell it or do you plan to keep it?” I asked, looking between them as the frame hissed and clanked shut using compressed air from the tanks given the lack of a Crystalline Fusion Core to power its normal functions.

She looked again at her son and had another silent conversation that went on so long I began to wonder if they were telepaths before the son said, in a surprisingly deep, masculine voice, “We will keep it. Until I am strong enough to put it on and go out there and make a life for ourselves.”

It was a rather touching response if anything and I felt some second-hoof pride on behalf of the mother. The determination was great and all but it didn't solve their housing issue if they decided to keep the armor. Sweet Luna I was starting to lose track of who I was with some of the decisions I was making the last few days...

“Here.” I said pulling out the key to Velvet’s house from out of my pocket after pondering the matter over in my mind and finding yet another ounce of benevolence in my heart. “This is the key to Velvet’s house. It’s in that apartment building on the west side of town, the one with the big Sunset Sarsaparilla sign on it and the little stone gargoyles on the edge of the roof. Eighth floor, room 821, it’s not much but it’s a start. There’s a bed and some other stuff in there that might help you get back onto your hooves. Keep in mind what I said about New Appleloosa though. Only been there once but it seemed like a nice place to live. Well defended, good population diversity and a truly amazing mare who runs the general store that just has...well, Absolutely Everything. I know this doesn't solve finances but at least it's a roof over your heads with a damn good view of the Stirrup. If anything, you're getting two of the most valuable assets I had to work with so...just take it and let's just move on before I come back to my senses.”

She took the key into her hooves, cupping them together as gently as if holding a foal and trembled as she fought back the tears that threatened to explode out of her eyes like a waterfall. They were both at a loss for words at what I had just given them and the weight of it was not lost on me. To them the key and the Power Armor represented a second chance at a life in the Wastes. Only the lucky or the wealthy were able to get an apartment room, especially one with a view such as it had over New Pegasus. In an age where deeds to a house were only reserved for places in the NER or settlements with an established mayor, the ownership of a house key was the sign of ownership of the house. With Velvet dead, whoever ran the building was bound to hear about the change of ownership so my job would be taken care of for me.

“T-thank you...M-Miss…” She managed to say as her lip quivered fiercely enough to make a raspberry sound if she wanted to.

“You're welcome...now please...get going. I need a nap and you two have a lotta shit to figure out from here. I'll lend you a pair of Mr. Helpers to help haul that fucker over to the apartment or wherever you wanna take it but once they're done, they're done so choose where you drop it off wisely."

With another command the Mr. Helpers were on their way carrying their quarry behind the mare and her son who looked back at me with an expression I couldn’t give a specific name to. Before I could consider it more they were gone and we were left with an empty shop save for the Mr. Helpers milling about picking up the empty Cola bottles and other refuse left behind in the wake of the crowd.

“I-I found some g-gold bars in t-the bathroom…” Gold said breaking the silence. “S-she had another safe b-behind the toilet. T-they were too h-heavy to lift and I forgot about them w-when you found t-the Power Armor…”

Gold, even though its value as a currency was more or less a moot point in the wake of caps as the currency of the modern world, still retained a special place in the hearts of any species intelligent enough to make use of money. Jewelry for the fancy mare, watches and chains for the sophisticated stallion and semiconductors for the scientist. Gold still had value even in the Wastes. Hell, Cogs in particular was a rather fond collector of the metal finding many uses for it in his work.

“Heh...guess that takes care of their financial troubles…” I laughed tiredly before laying my head down on the counter and falling asleep.

Next Chapter: Chapter Twenty-Six: Trouble on the Vacation Express Estimated time remaining: 18 Hours, 25 Minutes