Chapter 16-2: Indenture

Leaning against a leafless tree, I let the warmth from the fire wash over me as I stared out over the collective I’d built. The Raiders had gathered in full now that the light had dimmed too much to allow a third clash.

We’re certainly not all one big, happy family yet. The Deep Divers and Woodpeckers still aren’t interested in mingling with the Hay-stormers. I’ll have to talk to Caber and Sweet Lips about that.

“I am only pointing out that I saw what happened with that slaver mare, Hot Topic.”

I craned my head around as Latvi’s voice reached my ears.

It was soon joined by Ballbuster’s drawl. “Aye, but nuthin’ happened. Ah’ve made it clear what’ll happen if Caber’s eedjits try sumthin’.”

Latvi wasn’t done, though. “Sure, nothing happened this time, but what happens in the future? I notice that those four girls were the only Woodpeckers who got any of the new gear. Wanna know who didn’t notice?”

Sweet Lips was sounding more interested now, and a little angrier. “Who? Caber?”

“No, not Caber…” He trailed off as he locked eyes with me. “Oh, hello again. How’s the fire?”

“Like a nice, warm hug.” I deadpanned. “What was that?”

“What was what?” He matched my gaze without blinking.

“That.” I growled. “What were you just saying?”

He made a show of tapping his chin slowly. “Oh, right. That. Well, I was just going to congratulate you on the show you put on earlier. Very Raider. Didn’t even seem to care that you might’ve frozen one of Ballbuster’s Woodpeckers in the process.”

A grunt of annoyed agreement sounded from the mountainous mare’s throat. “The laddie’s no’ wrong.”

“Yes he is! I fixed it, didn’t I? Magic’d the ice off her right away.”

“You also told the poor girl not to ‘be such a baby’.” Accompanying his chide with a rueful shake of his head, it was still easy to see the smirk beneath his swaying mane strands.

“Are you kidding me?” I growled, standing up and squaring my hooves.

Latvi held up his hooves placatingly. “No, not kidding. I’m just making sure you remember that these aren’t just Red Ice’s Raiders, Snowflake. They are Haylanders, Barnstormers, Deep Divers, and yes, Woodpeckers. I just want you, Red Ice, to remember them.”

The number of fires around suddenly seemed far larger.

“But anyway,” Latvi shrugged, sitting down across the fire. “what’s next for our little entertprise?”

“What?” As we were talking, Caber Toss strolled up and sat down beside his wife.

“Well, while I think we can all agree that ambushing slaver patrols is fun…”

“Oh aye!”

“‘s aces!”

“...but still, there must be more to this, right? You didn’t go through all the trouble of bringing the disparate Raider groups together just to form a larger Raider group that indulges in the same old activities, did you?”

I hate you more than Roc. “No, I didn’t. The thing is, none of the towns and cities around here will give Raiders a chance to prove we’re changing, not by choice anyway.” Visions of all my friends who’d told me just that surfaced in my mind: Bosco, Breeze, Lexi… “So, we need to get ourselves into a position where we can be treated as credible, same as places like Plottawa or Neighlway. Once that’s accomplished, we can start getting the message across that the Raiders are changing.”

Caber Toss started. “Changin’ hoo?”

“...That’s for when we get there. Right now, we’ve gotta concentrate on showing the likes of Plottawa that we mean business.”

That cheered the big brawler up. “Hahah! Aye, tha’s the way! ‘mon then, back to it n’morra. Best be getting tae shawshie bawbaws.”

“Uh… what?” Latvi and I chorused.

“Means ‘sleep well’.” Sweet Lips translated, as her husband nodded sagely.

“Oh yes!” Latvi injected altogether too much enthusiasm into his words. “Do sleep well, Snowflake. Though I hardly think you could do otherwise with all these Raiders around. Yes, I’m sure you’re just as safe as can be here.” His predatory grin was really beginning to grate on me. “Sleep tight.”

Caber and Ballbuster had already vanished into the darkness. Latvi joined them after a final smirk.

Bastard. I lay down near the flames, letting their warmth lull me into a comfortable doze.

It did not come easy.

~~~~~~

“Mrrrrrrrrgh.” I staggered around the Raider encampment, lamenting the quality of my slumber.

There was little activity to be found around the camp. The Raiders seemed to be happy to take a lazy morning, with only a few fights going on, spaced far apart and drawing few onlookers.

I unenthusiastically accepted a bowl of… something from a Deep Diver, who for some reason hadn’t taken off… his? her? diving helmet even though there was no water anywhere near here. Spooning mouthfuls of the breakfast down my throat, I took another look around.

Latvi’s not around, and neither are Mr. and Mrs. Raider. I’d probably be worried about that if I wasn’t so damn tired.

I did spot one interesting thing though. A threesome of Raiders seemed to be fiddling with some of the gear from one of the Plottawans we’d killed. Judging from the harsh feedback, it seemed to be a radio. Finishing up my meal, I wandered over and listened in for any worthwhile distraction.

The Raiders weren’t kind to the machine, fervently tugging and bashing at the settings. A few snippets of music made it through, songs about how it was ‘great to be different’ and ‘proud to be a’ something or other. It wasn’t to the tastes of those working the dials, so never more than a second was heard.

A twist of a knob. “-OOD MOR-” The familiar voice vanished in a burst of interference as the Raiders moved on.

“Wait! Go back to the that one.”

Glancing over to me briefly, the stallion at the controls just shrugged and moved the dial back the other way.

“-d it hurts! There’s a good chance we’ll get more hurt than healing in the next little while, listeners. Ol’ DJ Pon3 has been hearing some very disturbing reports coming from up north.”

I rolled my eyes. Here we go. All aboard the blow-it-out-of-proportion express.

“Seems like the Raider Queen’s been busy indeed. Ponies have been talking for the past few days about massive Raider movements from all around Lethbridle and the surrounding settlements. Whatever Red Ice is planning, looks like it’s started.”

The Raiders began to chuckle and rib each other proudly. I waved at them in annoyance until they quieted enough for me to listen again.

“What we do know is that you want to be as far from Plottawa as possible right now. If possible, avoid travelling at all. Traders have apparently come across dozens of bodies in the snow. Some Raider, some Plottawa. It’s looking grim, folks.”

It’s not looking anything to you, you mouthpiece. You’re half a world away.

“Now, this DJ is hardly gonna cry over dead slavers OR dead Raiders, but both sides have a lot of bodies to throw at this, and there’s a half-decent chance that they’ll do just that. If they do, we’re gonna have fireworks. Big ones, and lots of them to boot. The most faithful of my listeners will remember that it was the Plottawa slaver head honcho, Peanut, who first told us about Red Ice. It sounds like she didn’t take it well.”

I pursed my lips, pouting. “I took it as well as anybody would.”

“Whatever the reason, Red Ice is waging a large scale grudge match against Peanut, or vice versa, and it’s really not gonna end well for anypony caught in the middle. Stay away, my little ponies. Stay far away. Lethbridle’s walls are there for a reason, keep them between you and the fighting. These two gangs of maniacs will tear into each other, and hopefully the rest of us can keep out of it. That’s the best thing to do here. Do NOT go vigilante. The bounty on Red Ice isn’t that high. It’s definitely not worth your life.”

I dunno, given the state of affairs in the Wasteland, that many caps could buy and sell a fair few ponies who just try to ‘survive’.

I jumped as a short burst of an upkeep rhythm rang out, painfully loud. The DJ’s voice followed immediately after. “And that’s all the time we’re gonna give to a couple of warmongers. There’s happy news out there too, ponies! Sprinkles Supplies has re-established trade with the buffalo of Grindstone, thanks to the combined efforts of Deputy Dent and his now-fiancee Lithu, who travelled to Grindstone after a dangerous mercenary shot up their apartment building in Lethbridle. Two upstanding young lovebirds there, folks. A buffalo and a unicorn. Ain’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah, it kinda is.” I mumbled to myself, managing a small smile. The other ponies around just gave me strange looks. I shook my head in jest. “Heh, colts.”

“I think this calls for a classic Sweetie Belle love song, in honour of the happy couple, who’re making the Wasteland just a li’l brighter all by themselves. I’ll leave you with the melodious tones of our bicentennial starlet. Enjoy the music, listeners. This is DJ Pon3, signing off.”

As the ‘melodious tones’ sounded out from the radio, one Raider scowled and made to change the channel, only to get blocked by one one of the others. Within seconds a fight had broken out, lovingly supported by the ongoing song. I just walked away.

Just you wait, DJ, you and all your gullible little listeners. Pretty soon I’m going to make it so that you can’t just ‘stay away’ from my Raiders. You’ll have to acknowledge us, have to deal with us, and then you’ll see what I’m really trying to do here. Then you’ll see that you were wrong to label me as a blight on the Wasteland. All I’m trying to do is help. Soon that’ll be clear to anyone.

~~~~~~

“Well, this is ‘exciting’.”

“Would somebody hit Latvi for me?”

THWACK!!

“OW!”

“Thank you, Caber.”

“Nae problem, doll.”

It was past noon, hours after DJ Pon3’s radio broadcast, and we’d been searching for more Plottawa patrols the entire time. So far we’d had no luck.

For the last hour, Latvi had delighted in reminding us all of that fact.

Worse still, some of the others are starting to agree with him.

Recovering from the backhoof clout that he’d idly received from Caber Toss, Latvi wasn’t done. Shaking his unkempt blond mane to clear the stars from before his eyes, he gritted his teeth as he spoke. “What an eloquent response. Truly I am convinced. Just for clarification, though, could you show me some of the Plottawa slavers we’ve killed today? How about any new weapons we’ve taken?”

I stamped a hoof, losing the battle to keep my frustation in check. “Shut. Up. Latvi.”

“He’s a wee gubshite, but he’s got a point, Red Ice.”

“DOES HE?!” I rounded on Caber Toss. “Because I really hadn’t noticed that we’ve been looking for hours and your Haylanders haven’t found a damn thing! Now I’d love to do everything myself, so I know I it won’t get messed up, but I can’t! I’m stuck waiting for your hepped-up-on-Dash Barnstormers to STUMBLE across twenty ponies!”

Caber Toss was not Latvi. His shoulders bunched up under his orange coat, and blue-and-green tartan moustache couldn’t hide his flaring nostrils as he reached up, grabbed his formidable axe, and slammed it into the ground between us with a mighty THUD! “Watch yehr mooth, Red Ice. Ah’m no’ gonnae take that from the likes o’ you!”

I’d taken a step back on seeing his axe come out, very much aware of Latvi’s words from the night before, and the general situation I was in.

These guys aren’t my friends. I’m stuck in what is still enemy territory, trying to keep them all happy. My fear at the situation was still there, but it was joined by anger. I stepped back towards Caber, horn glowing. I had to make it clear that I wouldn’t put up with being threatened, or else everything would fall apart. “Put that damn axe away right now, or else I’ll stop your heart COLD!”

Undeterred, Caber Toss tightened his grip on the axe, leg sinews tightening. Not wanting to wait, I immediately focused on the blade of the axe, where it was buried in the dirt, and willed a film of ice to form around it. “By the time you get it out of the ground, I’ll have frozen the blood in your veins.”

It was a bluff. I wouldn’t even get the ice on the axe before he took my head off, but I had to keep up the appearance of brutality.

Nobody else moved, they all just watched. I glanced around surreptitiously, looking at their expressions. It was a mix, some, Latvi included, were glaring at me. Others were glaring at Caber Toss. Others still were smiling, and even more were looking confused or worried. Things were getting divisive, and the sea of unfamiliar faces just made me feel lonely.

“Look,” I started, my horn’s glow fading. “we’re all pissed off. Just keep looking, come find me when you find some Plottawans.”

Without another word, I turned and walked away.

~~~~~~

The stone splashed into the puddle, throwing up droplets of dirty water.

From atop the small mound, I watched the miniature rain fall again. I’d been away from the Raiders for an hour, and didn’t feel any less angry at the situation.

“How hard is it to find a freakin’ slaver in the Wasteland? They’re supposed to be hunting other ponies! They’re supposed to be hunting me! It shouldn’t take this many Raiders this long to find some.”

The ripples on the puddle’s surface calmly spread out from where the stone sat, half-submerged.

I suppose I shouldn’t really expect much. I mean, the Raiders are idiots, I knew this coming in, but seriously! Not only can they not find any slavers, but they can’t even tell me where YOU are.

Even as I thought that, I was uncertain that I even wanted the Raiders to ever find out where Undertow was. Regardless of how we had met, this was not meant to be her world.

This world was filled with monsters and rogues, and she was anything but either. She’s the best thing to happen to me out here, and I’ll be damned if I let Latvi get anywhere near her again!

“I promise I’m gonna keep you safe, Undertow, from anybody who tries to hurt you or take you from me. I’ll find you, and I’ll make this right.” Undertow would be safe enough for now, Naiara had gotten her away from Caber Toss, Sweet Lips, and Latvi. She’d still been hit with the same spell I had, and I had to wonder what happened to her, if I’d been sent to the Stable.

Still, I could trust Naiara with her safety. No matter what else she’d done at the Raider meeting, she’d never try to hurt Undertow. They would both be safe.

I had to stop as a chilling thought slipped into my mind. That’s assuming that Naiara keeps Undertow away from others, or gets her back to Bosco, Schwarzwald and the others. Even with Breeze there, the others won’t let her hurt Undertow.

But what if she takes her back to the zebra? I fished the broken horn of the dead king out of my pocket. It was them who gave Latvi this damn thing in the first place. Atesh and Cept, you put people I care about in danger for your own ends?!

Naiara’s my friend, but you two definitely aren’t. I owe you both, especially Atesh, some payback, and I plan to pay you back in full.

According to Latvi, Atesh and his zebra were still looking for a way to get a supply of readily available gems for zebra-kind. Apparently that was what they were fighting for two hundred years ago, while ponies wanted the coal in the zebra lands. If they could harness the power of Sombra, the so-called Crystal King, then they would be much better off.

They won’t be happy that possibly the ONLY unicorn in the Wastelands with the ability to use the horn’s spells doesn’t have it anymore. They might come after me to get it back.

Well bring it, Atesh. You’re not the only one with fighters now, so if you want it, then you’re gonna have to meet my terms… whatever those’ll be when I get around to deciding.

“And my debt with you is already squared,” I giggled. “so don’t expect any favours from me. Unlike last time, I won’t be a ‘terrible haggler’. You’ll be paying through the nose for what you want from me!”

“Well, that sounds equal parts good and bad.”

“AAAAHHH!!!” I dove forwards in panic, landing square in the puddle, soaking my front.

“Smooth.” The voice was robotic, though somehow still amused.

Spitting out some of the muck-filled, no-doubt irradiated water, I sat up without turning around. “It’s been a while, Watcher. What have you been up to?”

“Mostly watching.”

Very helpful.

“And sorry for not speaking with you sooner, I’ve been busy since Crystal Point.”

“Yeah,” You liar. “Crystal Point seems like a lifetime ago. Feels as if a whole lot has happened since then.”

“Yeah it has, Snowflake. I think it’s high time we talked.” Buzzing around behind me, Watcher’s tone was equal parts concern and admonishment.

I sat back up, brushing at my damp coat, and closed my eyes. “I suppose so.” Scooting back away from the water, I popped a Radaway and began to sip it, relaxing until I was almost lying on my back. “Go ahead, Watcher, I’m listening.”

“Alright. First off, why are you working with Raiders? Is it true that you’re attacking Plottawans?”

I chuckled through my nose, still not looking. “Yeah, it’s true. I put all this effort into this project, and now I’m showing what it can do.”

“Snowflake!” Watcher’s voice had shifted further towards worry and not a little anger now. “You’re working with some of the most dangerous, crazy ponies in the Wasteland, and you’re picking a fight with a monster. Don’t you know how dangerous that is? What are you thinking?”

My eyebrow twitched in response. All hope of relaxing had disappeared. Sitting up, I opened my eyes and fixed the darkest glare I could on the floating contraption. “Oh, fuck you , buzzbot! Where do you get off preaching at me? I’m the one who did all the legwork to put this all together, I’m thinking that maybe I should get something for all my hard work! And fuck your danger, too! I know what I’m doing, and everybody needs to stop acting like they know better than me! I did this, and I’m gonna carry on, until everybody realises that I can handle myself!”

Chest heaving, I continued to glare at the robot, which had halted mid-air, remaining stock still.

“What?!” I snarled. “Got nothing to say? No sage advice from the oh-so-wise Watcher?”

It was a tense few seconds before Watcher spoke again, and when he did, it was in a choked, fearful voice. “What happened to your eyes?”

I scoffed. “You like? And here I was thinking that it wasn’t my colour.”

He wasn’t listening. “No no no, it can’t be! He’s gone! He can’t be back!” Watcher was zipping backwards and forwards, examining me from every angle. “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR EYES, SNOWFLAKE?!” The roar that shot through the speakers set me back on my haunches.

His panic was disturbing to watch, after all he’d told me before this. “Sombra’s still dead, you idiot. Though you should know as well as I do that the Wasteland won’t let things end at death. He left a legacy, Watcher, and I’ve experienced it firsthoof.”

“Snowflake.” Watcher halted his discombobulation and faced me directly. “I don’t care if you don’t like me right now, you can hate me even, but I need you to listen to me for this one thing. You cannot mess around with Sombra’s magic. I don’t care what form it is, stay away! Get out any way you can. This isn’t something you can play with, and it’s not something you can control. Sombra used the worst kinds of black arts. Please, I’m telling you, just stay away from it!”

“Oh please, Watcher.” I waved a hoof dismissively. “I’ve seen Sombra’s magic. It’s bad but I can handle it. If it comes down to it, I’ll even use it myself if I can.”

“No!”

“YES! I’m not helpless, Watcher. Soon everybody is going to see that.”

“I can’t let you do that, Snowflake! Don’t make me stop you!” He was seething, even through the speaker.

I threw my head back and howled with laughter. “What are you gonna do, watch me to death? Oh please try to stop me, Watcher. I could use a laugh.”

Everybody keeps thinking that I’m making mistakes, over and over again. I’ll show them all!

Furious, Watcher tried one more time. “Snowflake, pay attention. This power is not for you. It’s not for anyone. It should have died with Sombra. No good will come from it.” The bot was right into my face now. “It’s… it’s not the way to live. There’s a better way!”

I said nothing, already growing bored of his spiel. Taking a long drag from my Radaway, I just stared.

Unconcerned, he continued. “Look, I should have been keeping a better eye on you, and I’m sorry. I should have put you on the right path earlier. See, the thing is, every pony has a goal, a-a special something that defines them… something that holds true in their very soul. It’s what makes them so special, so unique. The Ministry Mares all had one, back before the Ministries and the war. They lost track of theirs, because of all the fighting and the hard decisions they had to make. This magic, Sombra’s magic, it’s just going to distract you from finding yours.”

“Are you kidding me? What’s having a ‘special something’ gonna do for anybody?”

“It’s everything! The one thing that the Wasteland can’t take from you. The one thing that makes you into best pony you can be. It’s yours and yours alone. Finding your... virtue is imperative for finding your own way to live out here.”

I puffed out my chest. “Then I guess my ‘virtue’ is pride. I’m pushing myself harder than anybody, doing things they wouldn’t dream of, all in the name of pride. I’m making my mark on the strength of my pride!”

“No,” Watcher replied, suddenly old and tired. “pride is not your virtue. It can’t be. If all you’ve done, all of this has come about through foolish pride, then it’s about as far from your virtue as you can get. Finding and following your virtue shows you the right way. This? This is a vice. Pride is your vice, not your virtue. You have to get away, Snowflake, and soon. If you don’t? Your pride is going to bury you.”

“Tch, if you’re so sure that I’m wrong, then what’s my virtue, smart guy?”

All the calm had drained from his words. “I don’t know. You sure as hell don’t know. I’ll try to find that out. You need to keep looking too. It’s the most important thing now. If you don’t… then I. Will. Stop. You.”

My teeth gritted. “Oh, go back to the ponies who want your nonsense!” Schwarzwald can deal with you, Watcher, I’ve got things to take care of.

If the bot had eyes, they’d have been glaring as it slowly turned and moved away, the mockingly upbeat tune emerging as it left.

~~~~~~

Level Up!

Perks gained - No Wasteland for Old Horses - The influence of those who came before affects Snowflake’s resolve.

~~~~~~

Author's Notes:

As always, a big thank you to KKat, Y1, Auramane, Cascadejackal (he did the original cover art, which is still on the Fallout Equestria wiki), Void Heart (he did the new cover art), Shunketsunoponi and you, the readers. Please read and comment, and pass the word along if you like the story. Finally, because I find it a really funny coincidence to have another fic with a Stable 61 that’s set in Equestrian Canada, go read Fallout Equestria: Pure Hearts.

That’s all for now, folks. Please keep reading, commenting, and spreading the word on Old Souls. I really appreciate your feedback.