Fallout Equestria - The Mirror Project

Chapters

Stage 1: Starting with a Bang
Stage 2: West Mareton
Stage 3: Bargaining Chips
Stage 5: Cloverfield
Stage 4: Parasprite Kebabs

Stage 1: Starting with a Bang

A gloomy grey haze fell across the wastes, illuminated only by the scattering of stars above and a pale, sickly moon hanging in the sky. Nights grew cold in the wastes, sending most ponies scurrying for shelter from the dark and those lurking in it, and the fires at the slaver camp were like flares in the darkness; beacons of warmth and heat that lured the unfortunate and the opportunistic. Most of the slavers were asleep, curled up under a large makeshift metal shelter on half eaten mattresses and rags piled in heaps. Their weapons were slumped at their sides, never far from reach and even in sleep their hooves and mouths twitched, firing at invisible foes.

Outside, two slavers remained statioary, guarding the slave pen where 11 scrawny, shivering ponies huddled in the corner of a concrete ruin, talking in soft murmurs as the old comforted the young and young warmed the old. There were talks of escape, but of course it was a pipe dream. If any tried to run, they’d barely make six metres before they were sniped down. The captured knew this and so did their captors, laughing and joking at the fire as they warmed their hooves. Two sticks poked into the fire with squirrels speared on the ends, sending the stink of burning flesh drifting out across the camp-site.

“Good haul, this time around” the male grinned, a green earth pony with a toothed blade on his flank. “Eh, scrawny bunch if you ask me” the female replied, a dark purple unicorn with a dollar symbol wrapped around a spade for a cutie mark, “Some of them are only good for road kill”. The earth pony shrugged. “We’ll get a good price for them” he said confidently, smirking over his shoulder at the clump of ponies. “The colosseum will take them. They’re always itching for new bait for their little beasties.”

The unicorn laughed, reaching for one of the sticks. Viciously, she tore a clump of meat from the squirrel, wolfing it down in a couple of gulps. “Maybe they’ll throw in a few tickets” she added hopefully, “Haven’t seen a fight for a few months now.” The earth pony grinned and patted her on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it” he declared with a smile, “If we get all them back in one piece, I’ll treat ya. Call it a date, Gold Digger.”

Gold Digger smirked, twirling the stick in her hooves and poking the earth pony with it. “And why do you think I’d want to date you, Chainsaw?” she purred as she ran her stick across his throat, leaving a faint mark. Chainsaw opened his mouth and a bullet flew in, cutting cleanly through the back of his throat and digging into the soil behind him. Gold Digger barely had a chance to let out a yell of surprise when a second bullet kissed her scalp, sweeping through her frontal lobe and out through the back, sending a spray of bone shards and blood onto the floor.

Gurgling as blood drained into his throat, Chainsaw collapsed onto the ground, struggling with his hooves to kick something, to make a noise, to warn the others. But it was no good. The snipe was the signal and Ratchet was on him, shoving a blade into his eye as she slammed her hoof down on his throat, squishing the air out of him. She was a stout earth pony with beige fur and a magenta mane, cut into a sharp bob. Cutiemark was her namesake, not that you could see it hidden behind two bulging saddlebags.

She’d snuck around behind them while they talked, using the walls of the buildings as cover while they were focusing on the squirrel. Then she’d just waited for Orion to get into position. The ghoul was still on the ridge, rifle pressed against her eye as she watched for any signs of the other slavers making a move. Of course, Ratchet was going to kill them either way, but there was something beautiful about doing it undetected.

Acting quickly, Ratchet dragged the two corpses out of sight, rubbing her hoof on the ground to hide the blood. She waved at the slaves to keep them quiet, turning with a small grin on the hut where the other slavers slept. How bloody convenient of them to sleep in one place. She’d leave them a thank you note if they weren’t going to be too dead to read it. She flipped open her saddle bag with a deft bite of her teeth, shoving her head inside until she received a round metal disc with a flashing yellow light on the top. Crouching down, she approached the hut as silently as possibly, tiptoeing lighting on her hooves. For a few minutes, she stood outside, fiddling with the round disc until the light turned red. Then she dumped it in front of the entrance and ran away, counting under her breath.

Five
Four
Three
Two
ONE!

The hut and earth tore apart as the disc exploded, sending bits of fur and flesh and metal flying in all directions in a spray. Ratchet burst out laughing as she watched the newly made flesh geysor, using a piece of metal as a guard against any stray limbs. Once the coast was clear, she trotted back to the cage, eyeing the frightened ponies inside. They shied away from her, edging closer to the wall as if she was a deathclaw bearing down on them. “Just a bit of fire and smoke” Ratchet called, “Gotta be dramatic in these things, right? I’m not going to hurt you, so get your asses out here and we can leave this god forsaken place already.” Her wonderfully thought out piece of peptalk didn’t help, as they just cowered even further into the corner, trembling against each other. Letting out an irritated snort, Ratchet scratched her scalp with one hoof. Bunch of pussies.

“Plenty of decorum as always” a mocking voice commented behind her and Ratchet turned with a grin to see the flaky, half rotten ghoul strolling towards her, rifle cocked over one shoulder. The unicorn ghoul flicked one ear to bat a fly away and scrutinised the slaves for a few moments. “Sorry little bunch” she commented dry, “Nice going with the fireworks, by the way. Way to attract every raider within five miles.” The ghoul’s appearance didn’t exactly comfort the prisoners, who were starting to let out whimpering moans as if their personal slice of hell had turned from hopeless to nightmarish.

Ratchet smirked, lifting her foot and examining the hoof innocently. “Why, whatever do you mean, Orion?” she replied, as a piece of metal crashed down behind her. Orion sniggered then pointed her horn at the lock. A muddy brown glow coated the mechanism and Orion frowned, fiddling with it for a few moments before it gave way and the gates creaked open. “Well, you heard what Ratchet said” she snapped, stomping into the cage, “Move your asses. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us and we can’t afford to waste time here.” If an earth pony with a penchant for making things explode didn’t get them moving, a ghoul with a temper and a gun sure did. The snivelling ponies scurried out, standing in a lost huddle next to them. Some held their collars tightly with both hooves, as if afraid their heads would explode just for leaving the cage. Of course, Orion’d already disabled that little gizmo, but they weren’t to know that.

Ratchet eyed each of them like a piece of meat, calculating how much they’d get for these ones. Bit scrawny, bit underfed but otherwise good condition. The freedom lot would be pleased to see them. With a grin at the thought of the bits, she turned to follow Orion, stopping as she spotted a rather nonchalant little door in the side of the slave pen.“Hmm? Hold up, Orion, I’m checking this thing out.” The ghoul glanced back, rifle levitating at ease by her side, and gave a sharp nod as her sharp eyes scoured the hills, looking for any issues.

Ratchet approached the door and bent down, peering through the keyhole. She could just about see a body on the floor and somepony else huddled in the far corner, though friend or foe was impossible to tell. Well, the one rule of bounties was open every lock because you never knew which head was on the other side of the door. Could be worth a fortune! Wiggling the handle with one hoof, she let out a wry grin. “Locked” Ratchet crowed, “As if a lock is good for anything.” Ratchet turned and slammed her two back hooves into the wooden door, feeling the lock falter under the force of her blow. It was a tried and tested method and besides, there were few things that could withstand the force of two power hooves on a pony. She shoved against the door again and it reluctantly squeaked open into a grey, tiled room.

The room was square, small and crumbling away at the edges. The centre piece was a table and some vicious looking tools. A bone saw, a pair of pliers, a serrated knife. The walls were stained with mold and moss crept between the cracks in the tiles, mixing with a splatter of red blood that was still gleaming on the floor. The source was a recently killed corpse, oozing blood from a bullet to the brain. There were still traces of the grey, spongy brain matter congealing behind his skull. Lovely. Ratchet approached it warily, in case the damn thing was set to explode or something. It was probably some poor slave that had been subjected to some usual raider fun, but you could never be too careful. Gripping a knife between her teeth, she nudged it with her hoof and flipped it over, eyeing the face. A rather filthy looking nobody. Worthless.

“Who…Who are you?”

Ratchet turned her head sharply, looking in the direction of the voice. In the far corner of the room, a small canary yellow pony crouched, staring at Ratchet from behind an electric blue mane. Judging by her fright and the chains on one hoof, she was a slave like the rest. “That’s my question, sweetheart” Ratchet replied curtly with a suspicious look over the pony. “On your feet. I need to see if you have any weapons on you.” The pony stumbled to her feet and a blood soaked knife dropped from her hooves to the floor in a clatter. At the sound, she flinched and cowered against the wall, shivering with her eye closed. Ratchet slowly approached, kicking the knife away with one hoof and glanced over at the corpse.

“You killed him?” she asked frankly, looking back at the pony. Now she could get a good look at her face, Ratchet saw that she was a pretty little thing. Her mane was long and tied deftly on one side, with a sharp fringe that covered her left eye entirely. The visible eye was sky blue, wide open and moist with tears, framed by big black lashes. Very pretty indeed. A beautiful mare and a filthy old slaver lying dead on the floor. Ratchet thought she knew what had happened, though she had no idea how the poor thing had gotten that knife. Snagged it off the slaver, most likely.

“He attacked you” Ratchet said, glancing at the corpse again then back at the tearstained face., “Didn’t he? That’s why you’re in this room.” The unicorn hesitated, staring at Ratchet then nodded once, a couple of tears dribbling down her face. Fair enough then, Ratchet thought. “Alright, well, don’t worry. You’re not in trouble. I’m here to free you guys” Ratchet said, “And we need to go. Leave the knife and the body and come with me. What’s your name anyway?” The pony flinched and looked down at the ground, no longer meeting Ratchet’s gaze. Ratchet frowned suspiciously, tightening her grip on the knife again.. “What, your name is a secret or something?” she leered, peering at her, ”I don’t like secrets, missy. Don’t make me leave you behind for the dogs.”

That made the canary sing. The yellow mare swallowed and looked up, smiling weakly. “It’s Wagtail” she said sadly in a warm, melodious voice, “Just Wagtail. Like my cutiemark” She turned slightly to reveal a small blue bird in flight on her flank. In its mouth was a scroll, so Ratchet guessed this pony was some kind of unlucky courier. They always ended up dead quicker than the rest. “Nice to meet you, Wagtail” she replied smoothly, “My name is Ratchet and I’ll be your guide for today. Let’s move.”

Wagtail nodded once and gingerly stepped over the body, trotting after Ratchet with ears flicked back. She stepped blinking into the light, cowering as her eyes fell on the mouldy unicorn waiting for her, pieces of skin falling to the floor. “Uh…ah” the mare stammered, trying to turn around, but Ratchet was at her rear, pushing her straight out towards the rest of the slaves. They glanced at her then looked away, each eying their hooves as they edged away from the new comer. Ratchet grinned as she came out, nudging Wagtail in front of her with her head. “Watch out, we got a feisty one here, Ori”” Ratchet commented, “Killed a slaver all on her own, didn’t you, mite?” Wagtail flushed, looking down at the floor, and Ratchet laughed, joining the ghoul. “Let’s go, shall we? Long walk to West Mareton.”

Author's Note

My first attempt at an MLP fanfic! All comments are appreciated, especially anything on improving my writing style. Next part will be up soon as I currently have around 10k words of the story written. Thanks! ~Senwyn

Stage 2: West Mareton

The journey to Mareton was a five hour slog and getting all twelve undernourished ponies there was no mean feat with just two to guard them. Ratchet and Orion had been on their toes the entire time, keeping an eye out for any bots or slavers that were lurking about. They’d almost ran into a deathclaw nest at one point, before Orion spotted the claw markings on a tree. That had been close. They didn’t rescue them to end up in some claw’s belly.

Ratchet marched at the front of the train, eyes flicking to each point on the horizon, knife ready in her mouth and grenades ready in her bags. She prided herself on her explosives and spent most of her bits coming up with new ways to make things go boom. It was violent, messy and not always precise, but man was it satisfying. Orion took up the rear, trusty rifle floating by her side as she looked around. Her presence had the added bonus of making the slaves move faster. Ghoul prejudice was still going strong in the waste and the stench of ghoul rot was enough to make one foal double over in sickness. Too soft, the lot of them.

With a grin, Ratchet spotted the welcoming spikes of WestMareton’s north gate loom into view. The town was barricaded inside a hulk of steel and wood, melded together to form a tall wall that circled the main area. It was guarded night and day by the town’s peace corps. Once it was juicy prey for raiders, but now it was choking to the brim with bounty hunters it wasn’t quite so nice a mouthful. “Ladies and gentlecolts, we’ve arrived at our destination.” Ratchet declared as they neared the gates, “West Mareton. Safest place in all of Vanhoovia and home to the Children of Harmony.” All ears pricked up hopefully for this and some even cracked a few smiles. The Children of Harmony were the biggest anti-slave group in the area and they paid bounties to go on missions to rescue more lost ones from the claws of New Amazonia and co.

Ratchet felt someone brush up next to her and turned, seeing the small yellow mare from before eying the gates warily. “Is it really going to be safe?” Wagtail asked, turning her one visible eye on Ratchet in a questioning stare. Over the last few hours, Ratchet had learnt a few things about Wagtail. First, she came from one of the eastern regions. Equestria or the like, Ratchet wasn’t sure. Second, Wagtail’s family had all been taken by slavers when they’d gotten to Vanhoovia. She’d suffered an eye wound in that incident, when a stray bullet had richocheted into her skull. Somehow Wagtail had come out of it with all her senses, but she was blind with a horrific scar. That was why she kept her eye covered, to keep anyone from seeing. Ratchet understood that. Most ponies in the wastes had their wounds and you learned not to ask pretty quick. A big scar would just get people talking and dragging painful things out of the grave.

Ratchet grinned, flipping the knife in the air and catching it in her hoof. “Yep. No raider in their right mind would take on West Mareton because we’d flay them alive” she said confidently, tapping her hoof on the mare’s shoulder, “Just imagine a town filled with people like Orion and me and you’ll get what I mean.” Wagtail thought for a moment then smiled wryly, looking up at Ratchet from beneath her fringe. “I’m still not sure it's safe” she joked and Ratchet grinned, “Sure is fun though!”

They approached the gate. It stood over eight feet high and was made of many sheets of metal hammered together, reinforced with wire and wood. Two guards stood in front of it, weapons raised high as they eyed Ratchet and her group. Ratchet and Orion were known to the town, but you could never be sure what you were dragging in when it came to a bounty hunt. Once a deathclaw egg had almost been smuggled into the town, before someone had the sense to check a slave’s bag. Not any more. A short white pony bot with artificial pink mane and green eyes was wheeled out and it scanned each freed slave in turn for any unusual substances or objects.

It beeped when it got to Wagtail and she was checked over. She finally revealed a knife hidden within her dark mane and handed it over apologetically, explaining that she’d taken it from the slave pen to protect herself with. You couldn’t blame her really. “Now can we go in?” Ratchet complained, glancing back at the open wastes as Orion let out an irritated sigh. “We’re like sitting ducks here” The ghoul commented. The guards nodded. “Entry confirmed” one declared and the gates swivelled open, revealing a compound of grey concrete blocks, lined in stable rows from end to end of the compound. To the east, a tall white building stood, red flag billowing out on the front of the building. To the west was a military barracks, made obvious by the sounds of gunfire and fighting emanating from its imposing walls lined with reems of chicken wire. In the middle, there was a market in full flow, with a dusty swirl of colour as ponies bustled from block to block and bickering over food, space and bits.

“Welcome to Mareton!” Ratchet said again dryly as the group cowered behind her, “safest shithole in the west. Stick close to me and Orion and don’t let any of these grubby buggers try and claim they rescued you. You’re our bounty, alright?” Orion backed her up, shoving the slaves into a tight pack as they wove through the bustling crowd towards the white building. “Orange, stick to me” Orion snapped, “You with the stone cutie mark, don’t wander off! Aim for the flag.” Ratchet grinned, glancing around as Wagtail stopped, eyeing the crowd. “Move it” She snapped, giving the mare a shove in the direction of the building. It earned her a huff and a small glare, but the yellow mare quickly followed the others to the white palace that was home to the Children of Harmony.

On the front of the building was a large stained glass window, depicting the elements of harmony in their banishment of Nightmare Moon, back when she’d been the only problem in the world. The Children worshiped the elements, seeing them as Gods and followed their elements devoutly. A Child of Harmony was supposed to exhibit all of the elements: Loyalty, Honesty, Generosity, Kindness and laughter. And of course, as the sixth element was magic, they were all Unicorns.
The Children had been set up in Vanhoovia after the great war and the original elements were lost. It was an attempt to try and bring order back to the world and the organisation devoted itself to freeing ponies from slavery by offering bounties for all slaves brought alive to the organisation. It had attracted a number of ponies to its doors, those out for bits, adventure or honour.

Ratchet pushed open the brown wooden door leading into the home of the Children, holding it open as the slaves trod open mouthed into its great half. Inside there were six stained windows, each devoted to one member of harmony. “It’s amazing” Wagtail murmured as she ducked her head inside and Orion flicked her eyes back in distaste. “Amazingly wasteful. You know how many bits went towards those things?” the ghoul grumbled, as two unicorns swathed in clean white robes strode towards her, eyes narrowed. One wore a pink butterfly, symbolising kindness, the other a vivid blue diamond, symbolising generosity.

“No ghouls” the butterfly mare declared, pointing her horn at Orion, “You’ll spread your disease and filth.” Ratchet snorted, tapping Orion on the side as the ghoul narrowed her eyes at the unicorn. “But I’m tired and thirsty” she said taking a step forward, “And I’m a unicorn just like you. Do we have to go through this again?“ The other unicorn stepped forward, lowering his horn in turn towards Orion. “No Ghouls” he repeated his sister’s words, “Ghouls are a symptom of disharmony and you will not spread it here.”

Orion glared at them and lowered her rifle with an annoyed snort. “Well, thank you for your kind generosity” she growled, turning towards the door, “I’m sure the elements would be so proud of your honesty and of your loyalty towards your fellow pony. What a laugh, right, guys?” Ratchet snorted, glaring at the two as Orion slid out the door. “Just take me to the bounty collection” she snapped, indicating for the slaves to follow, “I don’t want to spend longer in this cesspool than I have to.”
The unicorns nodded in unison and turned, walking slowly along the corridor as Ratchet and her group trudged behind. The going was slow, for they insisted on bowing to every Child who past, sharing a small pleasantry before continuing.

Aside from the grand opening hall with its worshipful windows, the rest of the building consisted of narrow, winding corridors, lined with rough, hard wood doors and small plaques with words supposedly said by the elements emblazoned on them. The two unicorns stopped outside a door emblazoned with a lightning bolt and tapped it once. After a few moments, it glowed a soft blue and swung open. One of the unicorns held up a hoof to Ratchet and went inside.

Ratchet let out an annoyed sigh and glanced back at the group. “Red tape. Learn to love it and hate it, kids, because you’re going to be swimming in it from now on” she said wryly, leaning against the wall. The slaves took her cue and all sat down on the floor in a collapsed heap, tired and hungry as they looked around. A few minutes passed then an elderly unicorn in red robes plodded out of the room, eying the group and Ratchet silently. “Ratchet” she said after a few moments, voice creaking as if her vocal cords were trying to remember the shapes of letters, “It is good to see you again”.

Ratchet grimaced and straightened up, eying the unicorn with mild dislike. “Pleasure” she said sarcastically, “Let’s skip the pleasantries that we both enjoy so much and get down to business, Rosemary.” The unicorn nodded, horn glowing dark red as she swept her horn across the group. “You did well today” she commented after a few moments with a pleased smile, nodding to the butterfly unicorn. The unicorn bowed back and strode to the slaves, nudging them to their feet with soft murmurs and the warm pink glow of magic to ease tired bones.

“Eleven saved is not bad, not bad at all in these difficult times” the old unicorn commented wearily, smiling faintly at Ratchet, “New Amazonia have foiled many of our latest rescues.” Ratchet nodded then glanced back in a frown. “Eleven? I have twelve” she complained, nodding at Wagtail, “Did you count her?” The unicorn let out a low sigh, bowing her head. “You know the rules. No collar, no money” she said in a tired voice, nodding to the diamond unicorn as he started to count out the bits. Ratchet glanced at Wagtail again with an annoyed hiss of air, eyes falling on her bare neck. “No freaking collar” she muttered, glaring at the mare as if it was her fault, then turned back to Rosemary. “Can’t you make an exception?”

The unicorn stared at her blankly and Ratchet nodded, swallowing her anger. “Of course not. I forgot how stingy you lot are” Ratchet grumbled, “Just give me the bits I’m owed. I can at least leave her with you, yeah? I can’t have a dead weight messing up my bounties.” The unicorn glanced at the yellow made and nodded once smiling at her faintly. “The Children of Harmony turn no lost lambs away” she said sombrely. Ratchet nodded and glanced at Wagtail. “There you go then” she said sullenly, “Welcome to your new family, freeloader.” With an annoyed grunt, Ratchet scooped her bits into a hidden pouch in her saddlebag and walked away, leaving the slaves to get acquainted on their own.

It was with a greatful gulp of the fresh air that she opened the door back into the main compound, spotting Orion lounging against the wall a few metres away. “Got paid?” the ghoul asked, unfolding herself from her seat and trotting over Ratchet. “Ripped me off as usual” the mare commented, “But still a pretty good haul. Enjoyed spreading disharmony while I was gone?” Orion snorted, flicking a few strands of her tail as they headed back towards the main compound area. “One of these days I’m going to show them disharmony by knocking their teeth out” she growled. Ratchet laughed, nudging Orion in the shoulder with one hoof affectionately. “When you do, let me know” Ratchet grinned, “I’d love to show those logs a real party.” Orion grinned back then looked around, eying the buildings. “Where’s the pub again?” she asked, licking her lips, “I am itching for a good pint.”

Five minutes later, they were perched up against a bar, two glasses of whiskey in front of them. “To another good hunt” Ratchet declared, picking a glass up with her hoof and clinking it against Orion’s. “To disharmony” Orion shot back, rewarded with another laugh from Ratchet and they both downed the fiery liquid, feeling it burn against their throats and set alight their stomachs. Ratchet let out a gasp and grinned, clunking her glass down on the wooden surface. “Another!” she declared to the bartender, a scrawny earth pony with sunken blue eyes, pale pink fur and dark brown mane. “Same” Orion grinned, catching the glass with her brown magic as it was thrown at her.

“I need to get drunk” Ratchet complained, “We’ve got enough bits to take a few days off then go back on the hunt once something good comes up. Old Loyalty-butt mentioned something about New Amazonia screwing up a few hunts, so I bet there are plenty of fish to catch.” Orion frowned, turning the glass with her magic as she glanced at the other pony. “New Amazonia? That anti-progress cult?” she asked, ears flicking up curiously.

Ratchet nodded, downing the whiskey and slumping against the bar, resting her head on her hooves. “Yeah. Been causing a bit of chaos, disrupting rescue attempts” she said nudging her empty glass with one hoof as she peered through it at Orion. “Heard they actually took over a town a few months back though it was way south of here.” Orion took a sip of whiskey, resting her weight on one hoof. “New lunar republic isn’t acting?” she asked. Ratchet shrugged, “Apparently not. You know the NLR. Not their jurisdiction, not their problem.” Orion frowned, downing the rest of her drink. “Someone should make it their problem.”

Ratchet shrugged again and beckoned to the bar tender for another drink. “Who cares. More wackos, more slaves, more cash” she declared frankly, “Circle of life and all that jazz.” Orion nodded after a small pause and glanced back to the bar tender. “Another” she called, as a pony bumped into Ratchet from behind. “Watch it” Ratchet snapped, turning her head towards the new comer. Her eyes widened as she found a short Pegasus standing behind her, holding a few bits in her hoof for a drink, and immediately Ratchet bristled, getting down from her chair. “What the heck are you doing in here?” she snarled as Orion turned, following her gaze to the pegasi wings. She let out a small sigh and glanced over to the bartender again. “Make hers a double” Orion commented dryly, jerking a hoof in the direction of Ratchet as the beige earth pony squared up against the pegasus.

Ratchet's mouth peeled back into a snarl, flashing her teeth at the other pony. “Don’t you know traiters and trash aren’t allowed here?” The Pegasus took a step back, ears flicking back. “I’m…I’m getting a drink” she declared, “It’s a free country.” Ratchet let out a dry laugh, shaking her head mockingly, “It’s a free country for citizens” she corrected maliciously, shoving the Pegasus with one hoof, “Not scum that run off to their clouds the instant things get a bit messy. I thought you lot didn’t associate with the lower echelons any more. Enclave versus the world, right?”

At that, the Pegasus started forward, flaring her wings in anger. “Don’t lump me with those” she snapped, shoving Ratchet back right in the stomach, “I’m not in the enclave. See!” She turned, baring her rump at Ratchet. The dark brand of a lightning bolt was vivid even in the dim light, marking her a Dashite. As if that meant anything to Ratchet. “All I see is a sorry looking scorch mark” Ratchet purred, “And I don’t get how being a traitor of traitors makes you any better.” The Pegasus stepped closer, looking like she wanted to tear Ratchet’s throat out, and Orion intervened. “Ratchet, leave it or we’ll get kicked out of the one good bar in this dump.”

Ratchet let out a low growl, glaring at the Pegasus. “Go on then” she snapped, “Count yourself lucky or I would have messed you up!” The Pegasus spat at her then strode past, raising a hoof to catch the attention of the bar tender. Angrily, Ratchet turned back to the bar in time to down another cup of whiskey. “Filth shouldn’t be allowed in here” she complained, glaring at the bartender as she served the Pegasus, “Should be locked up and defeathered.” Orion rolled her eyes and took another drink. There was no dealing with Ratchet when she was in that mood.

Stage 3: Bargaining Chips

The next morning, Ratchet awoke with a stinking headache and bright lights blazing in her skull. She wasn’t sure quite how many things she’d drunk but the last thing she remembered was a weird green looking thing that Orion had claimed was the best in all of Vanhoovia. It wasn’t – it tasted like pigs swill and dragon dung mixed together with a dash of skunk for seasoning. It had completely blitzed her memory and left her stomach at war.

Forcing herself awake, she heaved herself out of the cot and clambered down the ladder onto the hard concrete floor. They were staying in one of the communal areas, temporary accommodation for bounty hunters passing through West Mareton. Well, it was supposed to be temporary, but Ratchet had pretty much commandeered this room for herself. The beds were uncomfortable, smelly and riddled with lice, but it beat the wastes any day of the week and that made it home. “Orion” Ratchet groaned as the movement sent hoof beats pounding through her brain, “You alive?”

An answering grunt slithered out from the cot beneath hers as the ghoul sat up with a wide yawn that revealed rotting gums and a maggot infection in one cheek. “Alive?” Orion said with a grin as she crawled out of bed, “You trying to be funny?” Ratchet grinned back, pulling her saddle bags onto her back and tightening the straps with her teeth, “Still got a pulse, ain't you?” Orion lifted her rifle with her magic, brown sparks running up its length as she checked it for bruises. “Some would argue against that definition of living” Orion replied wryly as Ratchet stretched, shaking her head with a wince as she tried to clear it.

“In pain, are we?” the ghoul snickered. “What did you feed me?” Ratchet groaned, clamping her hooves against her skull, “Poison?” Orion whistled innocently. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. Maybe some apple cider in the mix.” Ratchet groaned, plodding towards the door. “Remind me to kill you when my head isn’t on fire” she complained, shoving it open with her shoulder and striding out. “And we’re back to alive versus dead” Orion quipped, opening the door after her, “Must it always be this way with us?” Ratchet chuckled, squinting as the light sent shards through her skull. The market wasn’t open yet, leaving the entire compound feeling like a ghost town. The only signs that ponies still lived here were a pair of run down guards patrolling the walls and the odd drunk snoring on a curb.

Orion glanced at Ratchet. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, “Get another bounty and build up our funds or get wasted today and tomorrow too.” Ratchet looked in the direction of the Harmony building, mulling it over. “Bounties” she said finally, “Better make the most of this new Amazonia hunting spree. We might be able to negotiate a better deal if we go after a tricky case.” Her head blazed into pain again and she sat down on the curb abruptly, suppressing the urge to be sick. “I’ll have to beg them for a headache cure first though” Ratchet grumbled, rubbing her scalp.

They strode up the hill to the white building, each step sending more pain through Ratchet’s head. At the entrance, Orion stopped letting out a snort of irritation. “I’ll wait out here. Don’t want them to burst a coronary before they cure your head” she said dryly, making herself comfortable against the wall. Ratchet frowned, jerking her head at the door. “Just come in and screw the lot of them” Ratchet set, “Make them squirm for being a bunch of filthy bigots.” Orion smiled faintly at her and turned her head away. Ratchet frowned at her then turned away, flicking her tail. “Whatever” she muttered, stomping inside, “Be a coward then.”

Orion didn’t rise to it, so the very irritated and worn looking earth pony entered the Children of Harmony alone. “Get me a healer” Ratchet snapped at the nearest unicorn with a butterfly badge, sitting down on the bench impatiently. In a few seconds, a Child was attending her, letting pale blue magic flow into Ratchet’s skull and dissolve the remnants of alcohol from her brain. Ratchet stood up with a grunt of thanks in the unicorn’s direction and strode outside, nodding to Orion as she approached the large bounty board stationed on the front of the building.

As she had guessed, there were a bunch of New Amazonia themed ones there, based on hunts that had previously failed. Deliciously high rewards too, she thought with a grin, eying up the four or five digit numbers. The main targets were Hippolyta, the leader of new Amazonia; Antiope her second in command; and Celaeno, in charge of information gathering and a major thorn in everyone's spines. It was unlikely Ratchet would capture any of those but it was worth keeping an eye out when doing run of the mill slave rescues.

To her surprise, Ratchet found the yellow mare she’d rescued before eyeing up the bounties. The yellow unicorn nibbled her lip as her vivid blue eyes flicked from poster to poster,dwelling for a moment on each one before passing to the next. Looking for an easy one, Ratchet bet. Of course there weren’t any. No one would ask a lone pony to take on one of these missions. It would be suicide. “What are you doing?” Ratchet asked and the mare jumped a foot in the air. Ratchet watched as Wagtail withdrew into herself, face hidden by her dark blue mane and body trembling all over. “You planning on taking on a bounty? By yourself? You nuts, kid?”

The mare stared at Ratchet for a few moments then nodded once shyly. “I thought if I went after something simple, I could handle it” she said defensively, draw her head up high as she glanced at the board again, “But there really isn’t anything that easy.” Ratchet let out a snort, rolling her eyes at Wagtail. “Well, duh” she said frankly, smirking at Wagtail, “If work was that easy, everyone would be a hunter.” Ratchet let out a low sigh, placing a hoof on Wagtail’s shoulder. “Look, I'll admit that you got guts, kid” Ratchet said warmly, “You killed that slaver back in the pen for attacking you, didn’t ya?” Wagtail smiled shyly at the compliment, looking at the floor, and Ratchet felt a sliver of pity for her. She was so naïve, it was ridiculous. “Thing is, guts aren’t enough to keep you alive” Ratchet added gruffly, waving her hoof in the direction of the door, “Most things out there feed on them! Just stay in West Mareton and find work here. You’re a unicorn, so you could even join the Children if you wanted.”

Wagtail frowned, biting her lip and glanced at the board again, eyes straying to one of the amazon missions. Ratchet followed her gaze and read the mission description silently. A group of ponies had been taken prisoner by New Amazonia troops in the southern village of New Hoofington. A couple of attempts to rescue them had already been made but each time they’d been slaughtered by the Amazonians. Much too dangerous for this kid, but at that price, Ratchet and Orion could probably handle it. “Thank you for your concern” Wagtail stiffly, talking to the ground as her good eye narrowed into a stubborn glare, “But I’m going to try one anyway.”

Ratchet let out a small puff of air, resisting the urge to slam her head against the wall. She hated rescuing people just for them to go walk into death traps. “Well” she said after a few moments, tongue moving ahead of her brain, “How about you come with me and Orion on a mission and see how you find it? Three ponies against the world sounds doable.” Ratchet stretched her mouth into a smile, ignoring the voice telling her this mare was a dead weight and would get them killed. The mare looked at her for a few seconds, both corners of her mouth twitching up into a weak grin of disbelief. “Really?” she whispered, “You'll help me?”

Ratchet huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “I said I'd do it, didn't I?” she snapped, “Don't make me offer twice.” Ratchet felt a slight nudge against her side and turned, seeing Orion looking at her with one brow raised. “Ratchet. A word?” the ghoul asked stiffly, waving her hoof in the direction of a half rotten picnic bench. Ratchet nodded and glanced at Wagtail. “Hang on a second” she said gently, smiling, before following Orion to the seats.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” the ghoul snapped, voice trembling as she slammed her hoof against the table, sending pieces of rotten bark flying, “Taking some brat onto a mission with us? You want to die young?” Ratchet flicked her eyes to the ceiling and then glared at Orion, mouth hardening to a thin line. “What do you expect me to do? Let her charge to her death?” Ratchet growled, nodding her head back at Wagtail, “She killed one raider and thinks she can take a herd of them on! If we take her on one mission, she'll see the light and join the Children. Done and dusted.”

Orion leaned forward, shaking her head rapidly. “It's not our concern” the ghoul snapped back, a vein in her skull twitching, “Take that whelp on our jobs and we'll end up with our flanks skinned hanging from meat hooks. Let her go and get herself killed by herself. Don't drag us into it!” Ratchet closed her eyes and leant back into her chair, crossing her hooves as she eyed her friend. “Fine. You don't have to come then” she said coolly, watching as the ghoul's face froze, “If risk is all you care about, I'll take her on a mission by myself. ”

Orion's face crumpled and she hunched forward, using her horn to drag Ratchet towards her. “You're not going on a hunt without me” she snarled, lifting her hoof, “And if you try, I'll break your legs.” Ratchet continued to stare at her, mouth narrowed into a line. “I'd like to see you do that” Ratchet purred back, baring her teeth. They stared at each other for a long moment, inches away from each other's faces. Finally, Orion let out a puff of air and shoved her away, slamming her hooves back onto the table as she screwed her eyes shut. “Fine” she grumbled, shooting a glare in Wagtail's direction, “I'll come with you on your little good Samaritan jaunt. But only to watch your back, like always. If she gets into trouble, I'm doing jack. Got it?”

Ratchet smiled, leaning across to pat the ghoul's head. “Good Orion” she mocked, “Now run along and grab us some supplies while I explain this to our new friend.” Orion let out a small growl, shoving Ratchet onto the ground as she stalked towards the door, closing it with a fierce slam behind her. Ratchet let out a sigh and a relieved laugh burst from her lips as she slumped down into her chair. For a second there, she really thought Orion was going to say no. “Me and the filly on a mission by ourselves” she said to herself with a wry grin, “Shit scary stuff there.”

Getting to her feet, she trotted back to Wagtail. The other mare looked at her warily, legs bent inwards and tail between her feet as she eyed the door Orion had left through. “So...?” she asked uncomfortable, eyeing the mission board again. “Sooo you've got yourself a hunting party” Ratchet said with a grin, patting the yellow unicorn on one shoulder. “And if I do say so myself, you have good taste in partners”. Wagtail smiled broadly, eyes lighting up and she turned back to the board. With a blueish glow of her horn, she peeled one of the notices off the board and showed it to Ratchet. “I was thinking this one” Wagtail exclaimed, waggling it in front of Ratchet's nose, “Raider camp south of here.”

Ratchet frowned and took it off her with one hoof, eying the description silently. The reward was good, probably why Wagtail had picked it, but it looked like a messy job. Real messy for two hunters and an amateur. Still it wasn't the amazonia one she'd been eyeing up earlier, so they'd probably dodged a bullet. “It's doable” Ratchet said finally, after considering the situation, “But Orion isn't going to like it. We might need an extra pair of hooves”. Ratchet passed the description back to Wagtail and she frowned, looking over the description again. “Luckily” Ratchet added with a grin, “I think I know someone who'd be happy to come. Well, for a price.” Wagtail raised a brow and Ratchet smiled, crumpling the paper into her saddlebag.

“You need gear. Go to the markets and order in my name” Ratchet instructed her, grinning viciously, “A weapon you feel happy with, some food, some drink and anything else you think might be useful. When you're done, come to Block B and ask for Ratchet. They'll show you to my room.” Wagtail nodded and trotted for the door, leaving Ratchet with a cup of whiskey and a pleased expression on her face. Things were about to get exciting.

Author's Note

And that's all for today! Thank you to those who have already read and liked this! It's a little slowish at the moment, but will pick up quite quickly hopefully! :D

Stage 5: Cloverfield

Calling Cloverfield a town was a bit of an exaggeration. It was a three hour walk from West Mareton, on route to the larger urban area in the south. As far as things went, the place was pretty basic to look at. The only buildings consisted of a large abandoned shopping mall and a few small houses surrounded by a long concrete wall, regularly patrolled by New Lunar Republican troops. Cloverfield had a strong NLR presence, being one of the larger NLR barracks in Vanhoovia, and was set up as a backup defence against the oncoming New Amazonia threat. As a result it was very popular with civilian ponies looking for protection from raiders, though personally Ratchet couldn't stand living in it for long. The NLR were suckers for rules, worse than the Children.

The town was a stopping point for most merchant routes and like West Mareton, it was a major pit stop for hunters on their way to tackle the challenges of the south. Not that that made it easy to get in. “Can I see your licenses?” a gruff earth pony clad in power armour asked at the entrance, flanked on either side by even burlier stallions, all wielding the same energy guns. “What is this, the brotherhood?” Ratchet joked, but the earth pony's face remained deadpan and serious. “Fine” she grunted, dumping her bag on the ground and rummaging through the various grenades and mines. Eventually, she dug out a torn and stained piece of paper with the NLR stamp clearly visible across the top. “Satisfied?” Ratchet asked. “Perfectly” the earth pony replied coolly, “But I will ask you to leave your weapons at the gate.”

Ratchet bristled at this, shoulders hunching as she glared at the guard, standing over her haul protectively. “And if I refuse, Thunderhooves?” she hissed, walking closer to the guard and pressing her face closer to his. “Then I will kindly ask you to leave, Ratchet” the guard replied without so much as a blink, “And will use force to achieve this aim. As I did last time.” Ratchet opened her mouth wide, eyes flashing with anger, then slammed it shut, kicking the bag at them. “I hope they go up in your face” she snapped. The guard checked the contents and passed it to one of his flunkies. “If they do, I will be sure to let you know” he replied with a nod, allowing her to pass. Ratchet stalked under the concrete arc, kicking up gravel in fury and moved to the side, allowing a couple of other ponies to go through before it was Orion and Wagtail's turn. Orion had the same fuss, Ratchet noted with a grit of her teeth as the Ghoul argued with the guard. Unlike Ratchet, she ended up being allowed to keep her gun. Apparently one weapon with hundreds of bullets was less dangerous than a bag full of bombs. They obviously didn't know Orion.

Wagtail was in trouble though. “I...I don't have one” she stammered as the stallion asked for her license, “I just became a hunter so I haven't had a chance to register yet...” Thunder hooves looked down his nose at her as his two guards moved to block her way. “No papers, no entry for hunters” he said coolly, “Please move on, Ma'am. Next.” Wagtail shot a panicked look at Ratchet as a snooty pink pony pushed past, flashing her papers at the guard and strolling into the city. “Look” Ratchet said quickly, stumbling forward, “Can't you make an exception? She's with us and we have passes, right?”

Wagtail nodded in agreement, batting her eyelashes at the soldier as she bit back tears. “Can I not be allowed in by proxy? Or as a civilian?” she asked desperately, ears drooping back against her skull, “I'm scared of being out here by myself all night. What if a death claw eats me?” Her voice was like sweet treacle mixed with just the right hint of sadness. Heck, even Orion looked bothered by the whole thing, Ratchet thought, and she didn't even like Wagtail. The guard met her gaze for a few seconds then crumpled and with a curt nod to his officers, he allowed Wagtail to pass.

“I'm really surprised that worked” Orion said frankly, glancing at Ratchet as they strode towards the mall entrance. Gravel crunched under their feet as they passed the two houses. The buildings had been adapted into two manned outposts, with wooden towers protruding from the ceilings. Currently there was a unicorn perched at the top of one, horn glowing as he used a spell to magnify the horizon. “Birdie flaps her eyes and old Thunder Fart lets her in?” Orion added, “He never breaks the rules.” Ratchet snorted and glanced back at Wagtail. “Everyone knows puppy eyes are the ultimate fail safe” Ratchet replied, nodding to the smaller unicorn. The yellow pony gave her a faint smile, whistling to herself as she trotted behind them, glancing back at the guards curiously. The three followed the road up to the mall, walking past the shells of abandoned wagons and the blinking light of an advertisement. Nearer the mall, they passed lines of NLR troops as they practised drills and ran laps around the mall. The only sign of a civilian presence were a few non-NLR outside the confines of the large mall: a couple of merchants shoving dried rats and stringy looking leaves in their faces.

“Well, if it isn't Ratchy” a drawling voice called and Ratchet turned slightly to see a sky blue pony unfold herself from the wall of the mall. She had a sleek silvery mane twisted into a knot on one side of her body and her tail hung down in curls. “Dragging yourself down here for a slice of New Amazonia pie?” Downpour purred. Ratchet smiled stiffly, mane bristling as she turned to face the other mare. “That's right. So why are you still here, Downpour?” she shot back, tilting her head slightly, “Don't tell me you beat the new Amazons already.” Downpour flicked her silvery blue mane over her shoulder with a smile and looked over at Orion and Wagtail. “Ooh, is it someone new?” she exclaimed, clapping her hooves together, “I so love new people”. With a chirpy smile, she trotted over and looked Wagtail up and down, eyeing her expression, body and then her cutiemark. Her face went sour.

“Looks like raider-bait to me” Downpour said bluntly. Wagtail flinched, taking a few steps back as Downpour turned her back on her, “I won't bother introducing myself to a walking corpse.” Wagtail's mouth fell open and she shot a look at Ratchet, whose face was growing darker by the second. Orion let out a snort, raising a brow at Ratchet. Downpour strode back to Ratchet with a swirl of her tail. “Downpour, you're seriously misunderstanding something here-”Ratchet began, but Downpour interrupted in a low hiss “I have to say, you are full of surprises. I didn't expect this of you. Maybe of the ghoul, but not you. Not very sporting, is it? Ah well. You know what they say about war!” She smirked coolly at Ratchet and then at Orion.

Actually, Ratchet didn't know, but she wasn't going to antagonise Downpour any more by asking. War was death and misery, period. It never changed. What else was there to know? The mare swished her tail in Ratchet's face and stalked off, body trembling all over. Ratchet let out a low sigh, hitting her face with her hoof. “Great. Now she's going to tell everyone I use a decoy. That stupid mare always jumps to conclusions” Ratchet groaned, “ and now I won't be able to get a drink anywhere for weeks.” Orion sniffed, cocking her gun lazily. “We could just murder her” Orion said casually, aiming down her sights at the other pony. With a soft sigh, she went pew-pew and lowered the weapon again. “Shame the NLR would carry out martial law against us before the bullet even hit her.” Ratchet frowned and turned away, watching the blue pony stop to talk to someone in a rapid tone, head turning back towards Orion and Ratchet in sharp jerks. “Too late any ways. The virus has been spread” Ratchet said glumly, “Wags, if anyone asks, you're an expert in guns. Capeche? You did shoot that raider in the house, remember?”

Wagtail nodded, though judging by the filthy look one of the NLR shot her as she pushed open the mall doors, they weren't having any of it. Once, the mall had doors made of clear glass, but that had since been smashed through and replaced by metal grating, nailed into place and emblazoned with the moon of the NLR. “I bet fifty bits you're arrested before half an hour has gone” Orion chortled as they strolled through to the main walkway, “You know how the NLR is about pony rights”. Ratchet growled, shooting a glare at another mutterer a few metres away. When most news was bad news, idle gossip spread like a cold in the wastes.

The entrances to the mall consisted of narrow corridors that widened into a broad street meandering from one side of the building to the other. On the ground floor, there were dozens of small shops lining the walkway that had been converted into makeshift officer barracks. Each was lined with cots against the walls and make shift paper barriers had been put up to preserve the illusion of privacy. They tended to be flimsy and had a short lifespan, especially as the soldiers insisted on falling through them when drunk. Upstairs were the civilian homes and they were even more cramped than below. Every shop was laid out with blankets and cushions on the floor and was shared between three or four families. Bearing in mind that a family could mean anywhere from two to twenty ponies, it wasn't always ideal.

Ratchet walked east through the mall, passing groups of ponies huddled together and chattering away. The mall opened up into a square that had once been a food court but was now a market, filled with different types of products. Ratchet was lured by a stall selling different kinds of explosives and she peered down at them with interest, eyeing. “Got an offer on today” the stall minder said. He was as scruffy looking unicorn colt with a load of wires for a cutiemark, stamped onto light brown fur that was singed and eaten away in places. “Oh really?” Ratchet said flatly, looking at the burn scars on his face. The colt had a large patch of fur eaten away from his left ear down to his nose and the skin was bright pink and shiny. “That's right, Missy!” the colt said, grinning from ear to ear as he trotted forward, “Buy three grenades and get two free! Bargain!“ Ratchet looked down at the grenades, eyes picking out the ill-fitting casing and protruding wires. “They don't look particularly safe” she said suspiciously. “They're BOMBS. What do you expect?” The colt retorted, raising himself onto his hind legs as he put both front hooves on the table, “They're not like guns. Bombs are temperamental, dangerous and effective.”

Ratchet rolled her eyes and looked around for Orion as she signalled to Wagtail that they were leaving with a curt nod. Orion was over at another stand, arguing over some new kind of bullet. Ratchet started to walk away. “Um...Did you make all these yourself?” Wagtail asked, smiling at the unicorn. He grinned, rubbing his head bashfully. “Yep! My dad was an explosives expert in the NLR. Taught me almost everything I know” the colt replied, grinning at her, “Name is Haywire by the way.” Wagtail smiled back. “Nice to meet you, Haywire” she replied politely, “So do you still run the store with your dad now?” Hay wire's face fell and he slumped back, lowering his eyes to the table. “Um, no. He left” he replied quietly. “So you're all by yourself?” Wagtail asked, reaching over to pat him with one hoof. “Not exactly. I got my ma” he said brightly, “She works at the hotel, keeping people company if they're lonely. My ma is really popular!”

Wagtail's eyes widened. “You mean she-” “He means she keeps people company” Ratchet said bluntly, shoving a hoof in front of Wagtail and muffling her voice, “Just chats with people and makes them feel at home, right kid? That what she told you?” Haywire nodded brightly. “That's right!” he said. “She works insane hours though, so I thought if I could earn something, it would really help her out. No one's bought yet though...” His ears drooped and he looked down again, nudging one bomb with his nose.

“Argh. Fine. I'll buy one” Ratchet muttered, slamming a couple of bits down and grabbing two of the less dodgy grenades from the table. Haywire looked at the bits with wide eyes and scooped them up, shoving them in a pot. “Thanks Missy” he said gratefully, and Ratchet nodded back to him. “Take care of your ma, kid, and I'll see you around.” Ratchet grunted and turned, trotting over to Orion. Orion slammed 30 bits on the table, muttering under her breath as she saw Ratchet approach. “Can you believe this one?” she snapped, waving her hoof at a crispy green mare with a sharply cut black mane dressed in a ragged suit, “Charging me thirty bits for a single pack of rounds. Claims they're running low here. Running low my ass!” Ratchet chuckled and Wagtail stepped forward, smiling at the stall tender. “Excuse me, but could you please lower the price for my friend?” Wagtail asked sweetly, flicking her ears back against her scalp. The mare laughed, tossing the bits into the air and catching them in one hoof. “Sorry, kid, business is business.” Wagtail's body drooped and she turned back to Ratchet and Orion sadly. “That's a shame” she mumbled sadly, “There must be other places to buy ammo. We'll just go there and tell everyone how expensive this place is.”

“N-n-now hold it a sec” the mare snapped, vaulting the table to stand next to them, eyes crinkled in fury., “You spread bad words about me and I'll mess you up” she threatened, raising her front hooves. Ratchet looked her over and snorted. “Oh yeah? You against two seasoned hunters?” The mare looked between them and went pale. She turned and rummaged in her money bag, shooting them looks of loathing over her shoulder. “Here. I'll give you a 10 bit discount” she said, shoving it into Orion's hands, “And in exchange you tell everyone what a bargain I offer?” Ratchet looked at the money for a moment and raised an eyebrow at Orion. “Hmm” the ghoul murmured, levitating the coin and rotating it mid-air. “Ten bits for free advertisement?” Orion said curtly, “Are you kidding?” The mare grimaced, shooting a glare of dislike as she hooked another five cents from her bag. “15 then. I won't go any worse than that.” Orion looked it over then pocketed it with a malicious grin, bowing her head to the mare. “Nice doing business with you, Iron Filings” the ghoul purred. As they walked away, she lightly tapped Wagtail in the side. “Good work, Birdie” Orion hummed, “You may have uses yet.”

Wagtail beamed with pleasure as they approached the Purple Unicorn, main bar in the NLR. It consisted of an old, branded coffee shop that had been converted into a bar for tired ponies after a day of training. Alcohol wasn't strictly legal in the NLR, but if you told the guards it was apple juice, they normally smiled, nodded and helped themselves. You needed alcohol in the wastes. Fact. And there was no one who liked alcohol more than Ant. “I'm going to stay out here” Orion said, sitting down against the wall, “Alcohol fumes make me want to puke.” Ratchet shrugged, looking around as she pushed open the door.

Inside there were half a dozen tables and chairs, almost all occupied, and a long narrow bar that went up the side of the room. Against the wall were dozens of bottles labelled cheery names such as Bloody Marey. Ratchet spotted Ant a mile off, wearing a distinctive brown, hole ridden fedora as he slumped against the bar, snoring loudly. With a small grimace, she fixed her face into a smile and nodded to Wagtail as they slowly wove through the groups of laughing people. Half a pint went down Wagtail's flank and Ratchet had to keep her temper as two drunks broke into a fight in front of her, over a popular card game in the wastes. It was called Nancy and Ratchet had never quite worked out the rules. At this point in time, she was convinced the winner consisted of whoever could cheat and shout the loudest and that suited her fine.
Right now, someone was invoking some backwards country rule about picking up a card if your hand ran out and the other was protesting venomously that it didn't apply, even as their quiet friend sitting opposite them scooped up their money and walked off. Ratchet snorted and shoved past, almost knocking one guy into his glass as she approached the bar. “Sorry, excuse me, coming through” Wagtail simpered, wriggling and worming her way between people until she was at Ratchet's side.

Ratchet shoved her hooves onto the table next to the fedora, waving the bartender over, a cutesy pink earth pony with short spiky blue hair and cutiemark in the shape of three bubbles floating from a bottle. “Can I help you?” the pony asked politely, as Ratchet eyed her silently with one brow raised. “Er, yeah, Spritzer” she replied gruffly, “Get me a bottle of your best cider plus a bottle of cola for the lady.” Spritzer nodded and trotted up the bar, tugging an old bottle out from under the counter. With a deft tug of her teeth, she twisted the lid off and popped the open bottle on the side. The label read Sweet Acres – an old brand that was quite rare now due to its taste. Spritzer poured the amber liquid into a pint glass and shoved it with her hoof towards Ratchet.

Ratchet caught the cup deftly and took a sip, savouring the taste of honeyed apple gliding down her throat. It burnt as it hit the stomach, filling her with a hot fire that made her shiver. “Delicious, thanks, Spritz” Ratchet grinned, raising her glass to the other pony. Spritz smiled warmly and got out another glass, pouring a dark brown liquid in. “Coke for you, Miss...?” Spritz asked, shoving the glass towards her. “Wagtail” Wags said with a warm smile, “Thanks!” She had a quick sip of the drink then glanced curiously across to the fedora wearing chump.

“Is he our person?” she asked curiously, peeking beneath the tilt of his fedora, “But he seems a little...drunk.” Ratchet grimaced, glancing sideways at the body. “If you ever catch him not drunk, that's the time to be surprised” she replied in a low hiss, gulping down another mouthful of cider, “It's his fuel, alcohol. Without it, he gets shaky and freaks out easily. Hasn't been the same for him since leaving his home stable. Excellent shot though!”

“You know, just because I'm drunk, that don't mean I'm deaf” a low grumbling voice rippled out from under the hat. Ratchet turned as the body heaved itself upright and Ant turned to them, a look of displeasure on his rather long face. Wagtail started in surprise, “Oh, you're a-” “Mule?” Ant replied, tipping his hat up to better look at her and immediately his manner changed, “You have that correct, pretty lady.” He ducked his head. Like most, Ant had a long, broad face, with a pronounced muzzle covered in grey fur. The rest of his head was covered in beige, including long floppy ears that hung down on either side under his hat. One twitched constantly at every noise and his brown eyes flicked from Wagtail to Ratchet. Immediately, his face widened into a grin.

“Why, if it isn't old Ratchy!” he exclaimed, patting her on the back with one hoof, “Decided to leave that backwards town of yours and head south to where the action is?” Ratchet grinned back, clasping his hoof tightly. “You could say that” she admitted with a shrug, “I hear the New Amazons are playing a messy ballgame around here.” Ant frowned, glancing at the ponies behind him, then lowered his voice, bending towards her, “Be careful what you say here. People are sensitive. Lots of deaths lately.”

Ratchet frowned, glancing at Spritzer who was gazing fixedly at a glass in her hooves, polishing it over and over. “Point taken” she said with a small grimace, glancing at Wagtail who mimed zipping her mouth shut. Ant looked her over for a second then slumped back in his chair, crossing his hooves. “So?” he asked, “You want me in on something, don't you?” Ratchet chortled and took another gulp from her cider. “Is it that obvious?” Wagtail asked curiously, looking at Ratchet. “Honey” Ant said, reaching out to pat her once on the head, “Ratchet only ever comes to see me when she wants one of two things. And I bet it's not the first one, not after last time.” Ratchet reddened and slammed her glass down on the table, shooting evils at the mule. “I thought we agreed never to speak of that again” Ratchet snarled, ignoring Wagtail's curious looks. “Sure we did” he smirked back and leant forward, turning back to Wagtail, “So, sweetheart, the only other thing Ratchet ever wants is combat support. Because of this.”

He drew back his cloak, revealing a metal armband clamped around his left foot. On the upwards side, a green screen glowed softly in the dark bar, a map blinking on its surface. “Stable-tec” Ant explained as Wagtail's mouth widened, “I grew up in one. This here is a pip-buck and it's pretty useful. Especially as it has an auto-aim feature. It also shows how many enemies are near by. Which is pretty darn useful if you're carrying out a hunt on a New Amazonia haunt, am I right, Ratchet?” Ratchet's mouth narrowed and she looked down at her drink, swirling it. “You're not wrong” she admitted begrudgingly.

“So” Ant said gamely, “You're going after some raiders camp taken over by Amazons and you want me to act as walking radar. I'm cool with that. Count me in.” Ratchet frowned suspiciously, turning her head towards him. “And?” she prompted him, “What do you want in return?” Ant shook his head lightly. “Nothing much. Like I said, we've been affected by New Amazons here lately. I can't wait to kill a couple of those bitches. But now you mention it...” Ratchet stared at him flatly. “But?” She prompted again. “Weeellll” he said, leaning back in his chair, “A 40% share of profits wouldn't be bad either.”
“25” Ratchet snapped. “30” Ant replied coolly. “28?” Wagtail butted in hopefully. “Done” said Ant with a grin. Ratchet swallowed the last of the cider and pushed her chair out, getting to her feet. “We're planning to head out tomorrow morning at dawn” she told Ant, “Gives you a chance to sober up a bit.” Ant nodded, slumping back against the bar. “Suits me” he said, “Though I work better on a bottle of whiskey.” Ratchet nodded to Spritzer and walked out, followed closely by Wagtail. “So what'd he say?” Orion asked. “Agreed to 28%” Ratchet informed her and Orion cocked her head. “Pretty good deal for Ant” she commented. “Yep. You can thank Wagtail again” Ratchet commented, grabbing the smaller pony with one arm. “Her pretty face is coming in useful!” Orion snorted. “So, dawn is it?” she asked. “Let's go buckle down then.” Ratchet nodded.

They approached a hostel ran by a stout earth pony named Dreamy days. He showed them to a cot in a room occupied by thee other ponies and they made themselves comfortable. After the other pony showed discomfort, Ratchet allowed Wagtail to sleep top to tail with her. “Just don't kick, okay?” Ratchet warned as they lay down for the night. Wagtail got off to sleep fairly quickly, letting out little whistling snores as she buried her head in her pillow. Ratchet lay on her back, thinking about tomorrow until she couldn't take it any more. She flipped onto her side and squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to get some sleep. They had a long day ahead in the morning.

Author's Note

Fun fact: My main reason for writing this fanfic to progress from roleplay to actual story writing on a regular basis. I'm working on construction/pacing, on developing characters and trying to create a fleshed out world. I'm also working on increasing length, as I've never written more than 5k before relating to one story. 15k, for me, is a pretty big thing ^^ Though I may need to merge chapters later as I suspect I'm spreading these too thinly across many short chapters. The first three or four, for example, could probably be merged into one. And I suspect the next couple of chapters could be merged with this one. We shall see.

Basically, if there's anything any one thinks I could do better, please let me know!

Otherwise, please enjoy!

EDIT: Also, that awkward moment when you realise a secondary character's gender switches between two paragraphs.

Stage 4: Parasprite Kebabs

Mid-morning, there was a light rap on her door. Ratchet wiped away a smudge of grease from her face and hopped to her feet, trotting to the door. Outside stood Wagtail, accompanied by a very sullen looking Orion. “So the team have assembled” Ratchet declared, letting them in with a briad grin. Wagtail raised her head curiously and looked around, eyeing the racks on each available wall. They were piled with bits of wire, metal and other random pieces of scrap, including an old toaster. On the far side of the room was the stout two person cot made of a metal frame and a straw mattress arranged haphazardly on each surface. Currently, it was covered with various blinking devices, red eyes watching Wagtail and Orion as they came in. Ratchet strode forward, making her way back to the large metal work table in the centre of the room. On the table were five or six small disks, backs removed to reveal explosive charges packed into their bodies and wires poking out left, right and centre. Ratchet picked up her wrench and resumed reattaching their backs, taking care not to damage the wiring.

“Is this your workshop?” Wagtail asked curiously, nosing at a couple of round metal plums. “Yep” Ratchet declared, “This is where the magic happens. And don't poke those too much – they're grenades.” Wagtail immediately took a few steps back, reassessing the devices. “These are all bombs?” She asked in a high squeak, glancing at Orion who rolled her eyes, flicking her ears back, “And you sleep in here?!” Ratchet frowned, glancing around at all the objects with a raised brow. “Well, yeah. Of course we sleep in here” she said nonplussed, “Safest place in all of Vanhoovia, unless there's a fire. The last one of those was a few weeks ago now so yeah, perfectly safe.” Orion let out a huffy sigh, adjusting her rifle at her side. “Are you ready to go?” the ghoul asked, “Or are we going to spend all day waiting for you to finish with your 'babies'?” Ratchet waved a hoof dismissvely, turning back to her table. “It's fine, give me a few seconds and I'll be ready” she said, picking up the wrench again, “Can't rush perfection.”

AS she tinkered, Wagtail continued to look around. There were lots of different things. More plum shaped 'grenades' were stacked in a stout box next to a big carrot shaped thing. On another stand were grapefruits with a glowing core, pulsing warmly in a wooden create. There was even a row of arrows with unusual heads lined up next to the door. What caught her attention though was a launcher lying next to Ratchet's bed. It was loaded with one egg and there was another on the floor next to it, carefully swathed in polystyrene and cardboard to suspend it next to the launcher.

“You have good taste, Wags” Ratchet commented from behind, grinning as she saw what Wagtail was eyeing up. “That's the fat man. Most powerful thing I have in here, not that I'll ever get a chance to use it” Ratchet declared proudly, “Built the launcher myself but I salvaged the bombs from a wreck east of here. No idea what damage they do, but they've got some really powerful magic mixed into the outer shell, so I bet they pack a punch.” She watched as the unicorn looked them over then trotted to the desk, eyeing the mines. “So..you're actually really good at science stuff, huh? This is amazing” Wagtail commented, eyes wide as she examined the craftsmanship of the joints, and Ratchet felt her face heat up a little. “Haha, well, not so much science as explosives” she admitted, rubbing her head with one hoof, “I like playing around with bits of metal and making things go bang. Not exactly science, just a mix of luck and practise.”

She glanced up at Orion who stood still by the door, examining a piece of flaking skin on one hoof. “You want a scientist, go speak to Orion” Ratchet said, grinning at the ghoul. Orion rolled her eyes back but smiled at them both, ears flicking forward. “Before she was a ghoul, she was involved in some science stuff. Really high level, am I right, Orion?” Orion chuckled darkly and cocked her rifle, smirking at Ratchet. “I wouldn't call weapons manufacture high level” Orion said modestly, “I just put together a few guns for the war. That's all. Didn't even get close to the sort of stuff the high-techs were doing in the ministry of magic.”

Wagtail gaped at them both and sat down on the ground, drawing a small pistol from her bag and pawing at it sadly. “Wow, you two are both so...Wow. I can't do anything like that” she bemoaned in a low whisper, ears drooping, “No wonder you didn't want me along.” Orion let out a snort and mumbled something under her breath, shooting a derisive look at Ratchet. Ratchet shot a glare back at the ghoul and approached Wagtail, tapping her on one shoulder. “Don't worry, kid. All you lack is experience” she said warmly, “And besides, you have a cutie mark, don't you? You must have a talent in something.” The pony eyed the black bird on her flank and let out a small sigh. “I guess” she said dolefully, getting back to her feet and flicked her eyes towards the door, “So, um, are we ready to go now?”

Frowning, Ratchet turned back to the table, counting her mines. Seven would probably do for this hunt. “Yeah, just give me a second to pack these” she said finally, shoving a selection of the mines into her saddlebags. After a few moments deliberation, she grabbed a few of the grenades too and a knife. Could never have enough weapons, that was the bounty rule. “Right” she said resolutely, glancing at Orion again, “Let's move out, shall we?” Wagtail smiled and trotted out, followed by the two hunters. “Still sure about this?” Orion hissed under her breath to Ratchet and Ratchet's ears flicked back against her scalp. “Nope” Ratchet replied back, watching the yellow mare trotting jauntily ahead, “But since when were missions predictable?” Orion sighed, flicking her tail from side to side and slowed, allowing Ratchet to walk in front.

They spent the first few hours of the journey in silence. Orion was still moody over having to babysit Wagtail and Wagtail was still acting miserable since her little tantrum earlier, head drooping with her tail between her legs. Ratchet let out a low sigh, rubbing her brow as she looked around, scanning the horizon for any new threats. The raiders camp was a few days walk south of West Mareton and if they kept up this atmosphere, their morale would be shot to pieces before they even reached the first NLR checkpoint. She glanced back again at the two, walking silently side by side. Orion was angry but alert, head flicking in all directions for any signs of an attacker or a hostile. Wagtail though was completely oblivious, plodding along with practically a sign over her head saying 'easy target, please eat me'.

“Let's stop for a bite” Ratchet said finally, as they reached a small half ruined building, “We've been walking for a few hours now.” Ratchet pushed open the door slowly, readying the knife in her teeth as she peered around the wood. The main room was a mess. It had signs of once being a living room, but now the sofa was covered in a weird purple growth, large chunks missing from its surface. A table and chairs lay in broken bits next to a half open cabinet. The kitchen was the same, with doors hanging off the hinges and cabinets nursing large holes in the surface. All the food had been entirely cleared out though, save for one med patch. No clothes left either. It was as if the occupants had suddenly abandoned the place.
Ratchet reached for the oven, pulling open the door and let out a grunt of surprise as a dozen pink and blue blobs shot out, fangs snapping for her face. Parasprites inflated by radiation into football sized balls of teeth, bloated and heavy. Immediately, Orion brought up her rifle and fired. Her bullets smacked into six of the creatures, splattering their pink and green corpses across the wall like nouveau art and sending the rest into an angry frenzy. Wagtail fumbled, barely managing to bring her gun in time to shoot a parasprite away from her. Shock flicked onto her face as the pieces of flesh tumbled to the ground and she took a few steps back, tremors running down her back. Ratchet was at the rest with a knife between her teeth. She swiped them out of the air with clean strokes, blood splattering into her mane and fur as her knife tore through the bodies like paper. It was over in a few seconds and Ratchet turned, eyeing Wagtail silently.

“If you can't handle parasprites, what are you going to do when your prey really puts up a fight?” Orion asked cruelly, hooking her rifle back on her belt. “I told you so” she shot snidely at Ratchet, horn glowing brown as she pulled all the parasprite corpses into a pile, “ now if you excuse me, I'm going to set up a fire and cook these things for lunch” The ghoul glared at Ratchet with an annoyed swish of her tail, “You two need to talk.” Orion nodded at Ratchet firmly, jerking her head from Wagtail to the door. Get rid of her. The message was loud and clear.

With a disgruntled huff, Ratchet crouched down in front of the trembling unicorn. Wagtail looked at her hooves then at Ratchet, eyes wide and determined. “Next time” she exclaimed in a high squeak, , “Next time I'll shoot properly! I was...I was just surprised. You can't make me leave!” Ratchet raised an eyebrow at that and tossed her knife between her hooves. She could force the pony to leave, but that wouldn't work. Ratchet knew full well the mare would go it alone and get killed in two blinks if she did that. Why Ratchet cared so much, she didn't know, but she wasn't letting her stumble to her death. She grinned wryly. Ori would kill her. “Well, you managed to shoot one” Ratchet said finally, “For a beginner, that's not bad.” Wagtail relaxed with a trembling smile and leant forward, grabbing Ratchet into a tight hug. “Thank you!” The earth pony stiffened as the hooves closed around her neck then relaxed. “No problem” Ratchet replied gruffly as she pried Wagtail away from her, “But next time, if you hesitate, I will drag your ass back to the Children and make them lock you up. Understood?”

Wagtail nodded as Orion marched back in, expression blackening when she saw the smile on Wagtail's face. Shooting an acidic glare at Ratchet, the ghoul slammed two roasted parasprites in front of them and stomped outside again. Ratchet chuckled uncomfortably, picking up the stick in one of her hooves. “Sorry” Wagtail murmured, levitating the parasprite up to her mouth, “I'm ruining your friendship, aren't I?” Ratchet lifted her hoof, rubbing behind one ear. “Nah, we disagree all the time. That's what you get when you put two badtempered mares in the same room” she said lightheartedly, “Eat up. We still have a long way to go.”

Ratchet's parasprite was a darkgreen turned black. As a result, the taste was rather sour and sharp, making her nose scrunch up with every bite. Wagtail was biting into a red one and her face was turning the same colour as the spicy blood of the creature bit into her tongue and set her brain on fire. “Good?” Ratchet asked with an evil grin and Wagtail nodded, shooting a smile at her as she bit into one wing, munching on it. They rejoined Orion outside and Ratchet pulled a small map out of her saddleback. She jabbed her hoof at their current location and traced a line for a few miles south to a small black dot indicating a town. “After we've eaten, we're going to head here” Ratchet explained as she tapped the dot, looking from Wagtail to Orion. “This is Cloverfield. It's run by NLR but otherwise is pretty friendly” she said, scrunching up her nose at the mention of the NLR, “Gotta pick up a pal of mine.”

Orion met her eyes with a small frown, glancing down at the dot with a nibble of her lips. “You're bringing Ant with us?” she asked doubtfully, looking at the black dot, “But he's... difficult.” Ratchet grimaced. “I know” she admitted, “But he's the best hunter 'sides from us between the camp and West Mareton.” Wagtail looked between them with a confused frown. “Sorry, I don't understand” she asked sweetly, “Who is Ant?” Ratchet made a face, reaching for another parasprite. “Ant is-”
Ratchet froze, eyes on the horizon. The wastelands were pretty barren outside of the main towns, with small shrivelled bushes, spindly trees and chunks of rock being the only scenery. It meant you really could see most attackers from quite a distance. Ratchet raised a hoof, pointing out four ponies approaching. There was one male and three females, all dressed in black leathers with hairstyles spiked into aggressive points. “Into the house” she hissed, “and keep low.” Wagtail's face went jaundice in colour and she crouched down, shuffling towards the door. With an ear-wincing creak, she opened the door and slipped inside. Orion and Ratchet followed, quickly gathering up the sprites and snuffing out the fire as best they could. There was no removing the smell of smoke though. They shut the door as they heard shouts and rapid footsteps breakout behind them.

“We saw you, little ducklings!” a male voice called in a highpitched screech as another female voice laughed, “Come out and play!” Ratchet ignored them, eying the material in the room. “Wags” she snapped, “Get behind the table and fix your gun on the door. Anyone comes in, shoot. No questions asked.” Orion was already huddled down behind the sofa, rifle scope trained on the door. Ratchet moved forward to the door, crouching down next to it with her blade ready. “Little ducklings” the voice whined again, “We won't hurt you, honest!“ A gutteral female voice spoke up as well, letting out a shriek of a laugh. “We only want to give you a present” she crowed and Ratchet tensed up as she heard the footsteps stop outside the door.

“Well, if you won't come out, we'll have to come in!” the male crowed. With a loud bang, he kicked the door open, opening fire as he pulled a machine gun on the room. Ratchet lunged forward, knocking him to the ground, and slammed her knife between his ribs. It tore through his skin, sinking into the pink flesh beneath and Ratchet ripped it out as the female behind him raised her gun to fire. Quick as a whistle, Orion opened fire on the mare, shooting one bullet into her hoof and another into her chest. The earth pony stumbled back into her two companions and fell to the ground, thrashing as blood began to gush from the wound.

“I'll kill you!” the third female, a unicorn, snarled. She was better protected than the other two, with an old metal breastplate and hockey mask shielding her face and body from bullets. Climbing over her fallen friends, she lifted the machine gun with her horn and opened fire on Orion, sending the other unicorn ducking back behind the sofa. Ratchet lunged away as the mare slowly turned the gun barrel on her, face sweating at the effort of lifting the heavy metal weapon with magic. Ratchet let out a low squeal as one bullet sunk into her hind flank and collapsed next to Orion, pinning herself up against the sofa. Pressing her hoof against the wound, Ratchet tore open her saddle bag with her mouth, feeling around for one of the smaller grenades she'd brought with her. “Got you, didn't they?” Orion snarled, peeking above the sofa again as another spray of bullets shot at them. “Shit” Ratchet snarled, looking across the gap to where Wagtail crouched, gripping her gun tightly in her hooves. “Well, it's good to see the canary is living up to her promise” Orion snapped, levitating her gun and shooting blindly at the two raiders left standing.

“Come on out little puppies” the mare purred, stepping forward into the room, “You've been very bad doggies and you need to be punished. Isn't that right, Daisy chain?” An earth pony followed her in, pale green with a bright yellow mane. She grinned, revealing jagged, chipped teeth that were clamped around the handle of a flat, long machete. Dashing forward, the pony leapt over the sofa and landed with a clatter behind Ratchet and Orion, swinging the blade around towards their heads as Orion turned, trying to swivel her gun in time.

There was a sound like a cork being released from a bottle and the raider faltered, falling to the floor as her blade fell from her mouth. Ratchet stared at the corpse in shock, then grinned at Orion. Orion shook her head grimly and nodded to where Wagtail crouched. A pistol hovered in the air next to her, glowing blue from her magic. As they watched, the faint blue vanished and the pistol fell to the ground as the yellow pony recoiled in shock at what she had done. Ratchet grinned and readied a small grenade in her mouth. “Nice job, kid” she exclaimed with a grin, and tossed the grenade towards the final unicorn. It landed with a small clatter at the raiders feet and she barely had a chance to let out a squeak of horror before the bomb went off under her feet, instantly shattering the bones in her legs and splitting her stomach open as the force sent her flying back four feet.

After a few moments of silent, Ratchet peaked over the makeshift barricade. All the raiders were on the ground, dead or dying and with a sigh of relief, she collapsed back against the sofa, letting out a grunt as she properly examined her leg. The bullet had gone straight through, narrowly missing one of the larger arteries, and had torn into her hamstring, resulting in sharp pain whenever even a bit of pressure was applied. Gritting her teeth and clamping her eyes shut, Ratchet turned her head in Orion's direction. “Med patch” she grunted. Orion nodded, opening her bag with her horn and lifting objects out.

“Wait, I can help with that”. Orion paused as Wagtail got to her feet, taking a couple of wobbly steps towards them. She avoided looking at the corpse lying next to them, fixing her eyes on the room. “I have experience in medicine” she admitted, “It's pretty basic but I should be able to handle-” “Do it” Ratchet snapped hastily, ignoring Orion's look of warning, “Stop yapping and fix the wound.” Wagtail nodded, horn glowing as she touched the tip against the bullet hole, wincing as some of the blood stained her horn. A small blue spark travelled lazily down her horn and into the skin, dissolving into the moist pink flesh. For a few seconds, nothing happened then slowly the skin began to knit back together, the blue glow of magic acting as a glue that sealed up the wound. There was still a slight mark where the bullet had entered, but the wound was gone.
Gingerly, Ratchet wiggled her leg, testing it for any pain. There was still a slight ache in the muscle, but as she stood up, she grinned gratefully at Wagtail. “Cheers” Ratchet said, raising an eyebrow at Orion who looked away, determined to be unimpressed. “Having a healer in our merry band of three will come in handy” Ratchet said cheerfully, patting her on one shoulder, “You shouldn't keep those things secret. Now then. Let's see if these guys are anyone worth having and if they've got any junk on them.”

They each took a corpse. Ratchet rifled through the pockets of the male's clothes, pocketing some bits and a half eaten sandwich. She ignored the machine gun but did salvage the bullets, thinking of the gun powder inside. Orion pocketed ammo, one of the machine guns and some medpatches, tucking them away into her saddlebag. As for Wagtail, she hesitantly poked around at the pockets, nudging them to see if there was anything inside. She took a few bits but left everything else and Ratchet had to come over and finishing the job, finding two grenades for her trouble. At the last moment, she also pulled a small red bandana off one of the corpses, tying it around her neck as best she could. “Getting into fashion are we?” Orion quipped when she saw the new item. “I think it looks nice” Wagtail piped up with a warm smile at Ratchet. Ratchet grinned and adjusted it again. “Spoils of war, Orion” she replied cheerfully, kicking the last corpse into a pile with the rest, “You're just jealous they don't have a nifty hat for you to nick.” Orion snorted and followed Ratchet outside, Wagtail trailing along close behind.

“Now. Where were we?” Ratchet commented, quickly doing a check to make sure they hadn't picked up any other unwanted attention. “I know” said Wagtail, “Cloverfield.”

Author's Note

Part of the reason I'm doing a fic based on fallout is to get better at action. I always feel like my fighting scenes lack fluidity, so any comments on improving this would be appreciated.