Fallout: Equestria, Project Horizons

Chapter 75: to the last, Part One

Fallout Equestria: Project Horizons
By Somber
Chapter 75: To the Last, Part One

"An exercise in rhetoric."

There were no words for what I felt. Everything within me had been yanked inside out and scraped raw. I wished I could be like Scotch Tape, sobbing my eyes out, or Bastard, sitting cold and composed in his couch, a thin trail of smoke drifting through the air from the cigarette clutched between his pursed lips. That was probably some kind of safety hazard, but I really couldn't care less. I'd just lost two more friends in the worst possible way, one forever and the other abandoned on the moon. If the Astrostable had survived... if it hadn't collapsed into the crater or been buried by rubble, there was some chance that she might find it. I had to cling to that hope. The alternative would drive me mad.
P-21... don't think about it... don't think about it... please don't... I gritted my teeth, feeling myself shake. No. I had to keep it all together.
I needed distractions, fast. So I could not think about... P-21... Rampage... no, damn it... No! Glory was alive, damn it! I wouldn't believe it was otherwise until I saw it with my own eyes! She was alive and we were going to... we were going to... no. I had to keep it together. My people needed me...
l scanned frantically around the cabin, looking for anything that could occupy me and not remind me of... I glanced at my hooves and found what I sought. What the heck had happened to me? I'd thought that Cognitum was the one who had altered my body when she'd inhabited it... a sort of evil renovation. But alicorn souls seemed pretty darn powerful... Now I had to wonder if it had just been an effect of having Luna inside her, an evil, Nightmare Moon version of what had happened when I got my body back. Speaking of which, now that I had a moment's peace, I could figure out what had happened to me.
Parts of my body were still synthetic, but I couldn't tell where machine ended and flesh began. The magic that had transformed me transcended anything that could be designed. I felt alive, entirely alive, not like clunky metal fused with flesh. My body was armored in places, but it didn't cover me from horn to hoof. The design was sleek and fluid, with tiny shooting stars and crescent moons. Talismans gleamed in my 'armor', but what their functions were I couldn't guess. I turned my hoof from side to side, seeing through gaps in the plate armor the intricate gearwork within, listening to it whir and click softly inside my limb.
My E.F.S. still had all the old energy and health displays. I fished around in my old saddlebags, took out a garnet, and sucked on the gem, enjoying the sweet and sour fruity taste for a second before it melted away with the familiar surge of energy. Okay, I couldn't see Princess Luna eating rocks, so clearly there was some of the old me in here. Maybe all this alicorn-ness was like a special suit of alicorn barding, and when I got my old soul back, I'd revert to just flesh and metal Blackjack? The magical projection could-
Wait... when had I thought like that? I rubbed my brow, then turned my head, looking at my reflection in the window. My eyes still had the tiniest flickers of red light within, but now I worried about things bigger than just physical alterations. I had Luna's soul inside me, but what precisely did that mean? I didn't have Luna's memories or magic. I couldn't begin to imagine how one raised the moon. Our commonality had allowed us to share this body without that horrifying sense of corruption and violation I'd initially felt, but in its place was... something inexplicable.
I carefully drew out the figurine of Rarity, and I turned it over in my hooves. There was a piece of soul in each one. Each piece subtly nudged me in different directions. Little hints and impressions. They didn't stop me from being me, but they might affect my decisions or outlooks in elusive ways. So where was my soul? Cohabitating in this body? Left behind in the blank? Was some Blackjack-ness keeping me... me? Or was Luna slowly tugging me towards being more like the ruler of Equestria she was two centuries ago?
The fact I was wondering these things at all scared the fuck out of me, and the amount of stuff I was trying not to think about was reaching unmanageable levels. I'd given up so much... lost so much... This didn't feel right. These weren't my thoughts. I didn't deserve these wings. Just like Luna had felt she hadn't deserved the throne...
"This is going to drive me crazy," I muttered.
"Yeah. That's how it started with her," Bastard murmured, taking a long pull off his cigarette as he examined the bore of one of his pistols. "When the Harbingers hired me, she was pretty upfront. A million caps for a few days' work. Oh, and killing you. That too." He gave me a supremely smack-worthy smirk, but I abstained - more from heartbroken lethargy than actual restraint - and he continued, "But the longer we were in the rocket, the nuttier she became... like convincing herself she had to do stuff. Rationalizing it to folks who already thought she shat moonbeams or who couldn't care less so long as they got paid."
"Great. That makes me feel so much better," I said, and latched on my next bet for not thinking about things. I asked, "What's your story, Bastard?"
He shot me a momentary scornful look, then snorted out dual rings of smoke. "No story. I kill ponies for money. I owe a lot of money to some folks who will collect my head if I miss a payment. It's that simple."
"Oh." I felt vaguely disappointed. And annoyed...
"Not everypony is the Lightbringer or Security," he said with a thin smile. "I'm just trying to get through life the best I can."
My lips curled in a frown. "So you'll kill a foal for caps?"
"I kill a target for caps," he replied calmly. "If you don't like it, take it up with whoever hires me. I'm just the messenger." He paused, pursing his lips. "And generally, no," he added. "Foal-killing is rarely worth it in the long run. Low pay. High revenge factor. Now, killing the foal's parents... sure. I've definitely done that before. Nothing ridiculous, of course. I don't do those 'rape and dismemberment' deals. Too messy and likely to go wrong."
"So glad you're a professional murderer," I muttered darkly, wondering if it was a mistake to save him. I didn't know what he was thinking anymore, but I wasn't about to admit that.
"Call it my way of fighting the Wasteland," he said with a smirk. "I honor my deals and keep everything nice and civil. I avoid collateral damage whenever possible, and strive for neatness and brevity." He paused, looking a little pained. "It was really tough breaking that deal with Cognitum. That's going to leave a bad taste in my mouth for a long time."
"You could have died and kept your honor," I pointed out.
That earned another smoky snort. "Yeah. Except I'd be, you know, dead. First rule of being a professional is to survive. Jobs go south. Plans go wrong. Dying for anything is something only morons do."
My telekinetic backhand knocked him out of his seat, across the cabin, and into the far wall. "Fuck!" he hissed, clenching his nose and grimacing. At least he was smart enough not to draw his guns. I saved this- this- this bastard and lost P-21 and Rampage? Rampage hadn't been a saint, but... "What was that for?" he cried out indignantly.
I jerked him over to me. "You're not a 'professional'. You're a raider with a sense of hygiene," I spat in his face.
"So when I break a contract to save my life and help you, I'm scum, and when I don't, I'm a corpse? Nice," he replied evenly.
That was a kick to the nethers of my righteous indignation. When a pony would do anything to survive, they were scum, but if he'd honored his deal with Cognitum... ugh... I couldn't handle this. "I just lost two very dear friends and a pony I'd have liked to have given a second chance. One of them," I growled out, pointing at Scotch Tape, "was her father. Don't you dare call any of them morons."
"Duly noted," he muttered as he glared at me over his askew glasses. "Now, are you going to kill me, knock me around a little more, or give me one of those second chance thingies?" he asked evenly. I glared into his insolent eyes and... damn it... What was happening to me? I was upset, sure... but I wasn't really going to kill him for insulting my friends, was I?
Was I? I stared into his teal eyes, seeing myself reflected in them and the silent question hanging in the air between us.
I am not an executioner...
"Sorry," I muttered, releasing him. If he insulted them again, though...
He straightened his glasses and rubbed his bleeding nose with the back of a forehoof. "Yeah. Forgot that you do that whole... friend... thing. I got vaccinated for that years ago." He considered me and then added. "Guess you were pretty close, huh?"
"Yeah. We were. And are." I'd never forget Rampage. I'd get her home, even if I had to bring down the moon to do it.
"Well, glad that worked out for you," he said with a shrug as he finished off the cigarette and stubbed it out on the upholstery. "I'll honor our deal. Get the kid back safe. Keep her alive till the day after tomorrow." He pushed back the sleeve of his coat to reveal a PipBuck. He checked something. "Let's see. Armor piercing ammo. Need to pick her up some barding. Then play bodyguard till this mess is over." I He chuckled. "Then I get paid and get some persistent bastards off my ass."
"You know, we might all die in a few hours," I pointed out. "Doesn't that bother you?"
"Should it?" he answered, as if the very question surprised him. "I don't want to, if I can help it, but it's going to happen. I die when I die. That big rock today, a raider's bullet tomorrow, a mark's bodyguard next month, starvation next year, or old age in who knows how long... something's going to get me. Why sweat the details?"
I grunted, then leaned over to where Scotch lay strapped into her couch. Her face was turned away from us. No flying through the air with hooves waving on this trip. She clutched the battered black hat in her hooves. Had that really been just hours ago? The young mare might have been asleep, or was simply alone in her grief. "Just take care of her," I told him, the edge in my voice present through our entire exchange now gone. He grunted once and nodded.
I stared at him for a long moment; something else was amiss, but I couldn't put my hoof on what. He was scum... no, that wasn't it. I was giving him a second chance. That was so me. But there was definitely something... something... something about him... He was a killer... no... he was... he...
"What?" he asked with a frown. Suddenly I levitated him to me, pulled off his glasses, and examined him closer. He was handsome in a somewhat underfed-looking way, athletic without being bulky. Really, he had a frame similar to Stygius, P-21, and Glory... and... and... Now he started to look a bit alarmed. "Fucking what? If you're going to hit me again, get on with it."
Fucking... that was it! I wasn't sexually aroused or interested in him at all! There wasn't that little part of me wanting the comfort and bliss that came with sex. I mourned P-21 because he was my friend, not because I'd lost a lover. There should have been... something! Sure, it had taken me a few hours to get with Stygius, but that was coming off of sexual trauma, and I was worried about killing him. I should be snogging Bastard. Flirting with him, at least... but... nothing. He left me cold. My emotional reset button wasn't just not working, it appeared to have been removed completely.
"Nothing," I answered as I released him, averting my eyes to my blank body lashed to her couch. He shook his head and drew another cigarette, lighting it. I didn't know if the lack of sensation was a good thing or a sad commentary on my character. I added it to the growing list of things I didn't want to think about right now... and my head was getting a little too full. "Have you... have you ever felt like you're not yourself anymore?"
He took a long pull on his cigarette, then exhaled. "Nope. Can't say that I have. That sounds to me like a hell of a personal problem I'm glad I don't have. Like pregnancy. Or being an alicorn. Or being batshit insane, on top of all that." He pushed off me and sailed back to his seat.
"Thanks," I muttered dryly. Unfortunately, that left me right back where I started. And his little quip... my babies... I could still feel them inside me. Little pokes and kicks. I had to not think about... not...
Damn it! Thinking about P-21 made me choke up. Thinking about Rampage made me want to hit something. Damn it... why couldn't I just win for once? One solid, inescapable, undeniable, Blackjack-gets-what-she-wants win without paying for it in blood and tears? Why? It wasn't fair. Just once... Just...
Crap, I was crying. Great, shuddering sobs that curled me over and sent tears drifting through the cabin again. First Glory... no! Not Glory! Glory was alive! She was. She had to be. She was going to hold me in her hooves and tell me everything was going to be okay. She'd figure all this out. And I'd never, ever, stray from her again.
Enough. I couldn't take it anymore. I used my magic to untie my blank body and brought it to me. It'd been able to see P-21 even when I wasn't 'home'. Maybe I could use it to get away from myself. Just for a little while. Just until I worked out what I was going to do.
I turned over my blank face. This was my face, but not mine. So young. So... innocent. Had I ever truly looked this way before? I could almost imagine that this was myself dreaming... heh... I was even drooling a little. I held my blank body close and pressed my horn to hers. To dream... but who knew what nightmares I might see?
They couldn't be worse than the nightmares I was living now. I dove into the first window I saw, it and all the others now annoyingly opaque, and let the world swirl away.