Fallout Equestria : Sundered Steel

by Gallant Aegis

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Dark, Alternate Universe, Adventure
Length: 10337

Steel, Blood, and Bottle Caps. The Detrot wasteland has all in ample supply

Friendship… Friendship never changes.

In the Detrot wasteland, a captain of industry in the old world rises from his slumber. A humble Stable doctor gets thrust into a world of politics, new enemies, and old scores to settle. He can only hope that the shifting world doesn't swallow him up as he journeys into the unknown with a team of unlikely allies. Hopefully, they'll be able to put aside their differences long enough to survive.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-16 00:25:22 UTC

Chapter One Emergance

Fallout Equestria: Sundered Steel

Chapter 1: Emergence

Life in the Stable was simple and monotonous. Every day, it was routine followed by more routine, and then more routine to follow. My routine would be to get out of bed, check my terminal, only to find no new mail from the Overponies, then sit at my desk until it was time for the night shift to start. It was like this day in and day out, from the day I got my cutie mark. Sorry, I'm getting ahead of my self; I'll explain. Down here in Stable 127, we have a council of Overmares and Overstallions that run the Stable. We vote on who we have as our Overmares and Overstallions every ten years, at the end of each of their terms.

My name is Sawbones, and I am an earth pony. There's nothing very special about me; I'm just the Stable doctor. I deal with everything from minor cuts and bruises to child birth and radiation poisoning. I'm not too popular in the Stable, nopony wants to spend time with the local doctor, only when they need my knowledge and skill do they come crying to me;

"Oh, my little filly is sick, fix her Doctor Sawbones,”

“Oh I broke my leg when walking down to maintenance, make me better Doctor Sawbones.”

“Oh, I've gotten irradiated by playing down in the reactor, heal me Doctor Sawbones.”

I mean seriously I swear everypony is incapable of not hurting themselves like a total chump and whenever I'm needed, they come crying to me, but it's not worth my time talking to the Overcouncil. It's not like I’ll be taken seriously, and there’s nopony to talk to, as I'm the psychiatrist as well. It's a lonely existence down here.

So on with the story; my alarm went off at the normal time, 8:30am. It’s the time those from the night shift begin to make their own way to bed.

“Good morning, Sawbones. Another crummy day in a crummy life,” I tell myself in an exasperated tone. I draged my body out of bed, collapsing in a heap the moment I step out.

“Why can't I just stay in bed?” I bemoaned myself. I glanced around my basic, even Spartan bedroom. It had little more than a bed, a desk with my terminal on it, a dresser with my Stable’s medical barding, and a small selection of personal items. There was a canteen with the number of my Stable on it, along with a picture of myself with the first pony I saved from his own stupidity and ineptitude at completing the most mundane tasks, like not eating the utensils, forks are not meant for soup anyway. That was the day I earned my cutie mark. That was a great day I laughed for weeks about it not so funny now.

I glanced up to the walls, and see a picture of the goddess, Celestia, saying, “Your stable needs you.”

“Oh, that’s why,” I said with a low moan of displeasure. I lifted my disgruntled body from the cold steel floor of my room, making my way to the dresser, at that moment I looked at my Pipbuck, the thing emitting an icy, lifeless, blue glow. I’m no Pipbuck technician but I worked out most of its controls and listened in most of the classes on how to use it. The Pipbuck has many uses, from having near limitless storage capacity, helps with the application of medical supplies like Rad-Guard and Healing Potions, not like the other ponies even understand that or they wouldn't be in half as many scrapes and scuffs, though that said It’s a wonderful, heavy, clunky, glitchy device, but it’s built to last. I hear some of the ponies down in maintenance say you could drop a bomb on one and it would still work; in fact, they insist that it would.

I trotted to the dresser, peeking inside are fourteen finely pressed, perfectly kept suits of medical barding with the number 127 emblazoned on the back. It’s a constant reminder that I am part of this Stable, and this is where I was born, and this is where I will die. I got one of the cornflower-blue bardings. You would expect it to be difficult to pick things up, as I am an Earth Pony, but you get develop a knack for it after a while.

After I wacked my barding on, I turned on the terminal at my desk. As per the usual, there was nothing from the Overcouncil and only a few messages regarding the old mare cherry blossom getting her hip drained. I shuddered a little at this. I swore by the goddesses, she would live forever at this rate. She’s been coming to me since I got my cutie mark. That was over fifteen years ago, and she was very old then, pushing ninety, at least. Anyway, after I checked my non-existent messages, I left my room and walked out into the communal living space.

The air was very unwelcome as the ponies sitting there stoped their conversations and looked at me with distrustful glares, If looks could kill I would be pushing up daisies now , seriously, it was like they were trying plot my death or something, which is entirely likely. So, to avoid a conflict with somepony, with a little forced smirk I bolted away for the mess hall for something to eat. I rolled my eyes at today’s dietary choices as if there was much choice in the mater.

‘Mmmm, dried apple flakes and recycled potato paste.’

It was same as every morning, because the night shift took any rehydrated or fresh produce the moment they got off their shifts. The dried apple flakes aren’t so bad; they do have an apple-like taste but they’re not very filling. The potato paste? Well you’re better off not knowing what went into that, and you curious individual just don't somethings are just better off not knowing.

I sat down with the only pony that gets along with me, which is a miracle in it self, I would be inclined to say were friends, but Its more of a working relationship, she’s my assistant, Aroma. She’s a Unicorn with a cobalt blue mane and a navy blue coat, She’s a bit quiet, but she means well. The only reason she’s even my assistant is because she found her cutie mark while being my apprentice, and will the miracles never cease shes not with her normal circle of friends who's total IQ I can count on one hoof, there a bad influence on her they'll make her catch the dumb.

“Morning, Aroma... sleep well?” I ask somewhat gingerly.

“Just fine, Doctor Sawbones,” she replies meekly.

“Really, Aroma, I’m not on my shift. It’s just Sawbones.”

“I know, but that’s your job… and your title… and I like being your assistant and calling you Doctor,” she says in a timid voice, averting her eyes.

“Fine, whatever, Aroma. Anypony leave any messages that they need to come in to the clinic today?”

“Only Cherry Blossom, for her bi-monthly hip draining. Nothing special today, Doctor,” she calmly expresses. I sighed at her calling me Doctor....so hard.

“Eat up so we can get to hip draining and boredom.”

We finished up our meals of recycled food and drink. We walked to the clinic, and with a mechanical whoosh, the hydraulic door opens to us, revealing the clinic. Its a usual run-of-the-mill clinic; three beds for patients, a locked medicine cabinet –only myself, Aroma, and the Overcouncil have a key– and my desk with a terminal on it, so I sat my rump down in my nice comfortable chair and began to wait for nothing to happen, usually nothing happens, but today decided on being an inconvenience and something decided to happen to me particularly.

I was sitting in my chair literally ten minutes before I received an urgent audio transmission. I never get transmissions from anypony so with a blend of pure curiosity, and the assumption that it must be important that I allow the audio transmission to play. Now, I've seen and heard the voice of everypony in this stable. I may not know many of them personally, but I would recognize their voices anywhere. I’ve heard them whine to me rather often, but this doesn’t sound like any pony I know.

“HELP, LET ME IN! PLEASE LET ME IN, I'M BEGGING YOU!” the unknown voice screams in my ear at me, his voice filling the room.

“Calm down! Who even are you, your not from the stable.”

I tryed to calm this mystery pony screaming from what seems to be the stable door, Well, I know it was the stable door now, but they say that hindsight is always 20-20.

“WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MATER WHO I AM LET ME IN! PLEASE LET ME IN! IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN, THEY'LL KILL ME!”

“Who is gonna Kill you, are they a threat to the stable, answer the questions please!”

“I'm Begging I need you to let me in, I'll answer all your questions, Just please let me in-”

And that was the last of the transmission before it turned itself off.

“Aroma, I need to talk to the Overcouncil. This is important.”

We rushed to the Overcouncil chambers on the upper floor of the Stable, probably bowling over some ponies on the way. Well, it’s nothing a winge and a whine at me wouldn't fix. Slamming my hooves on the door, I try to get the Council’s attention.

“Open up! I need to speak to all of you!” I exclaimed as I bludgeoned the door with my hoof. With a sudden whoosh, the door opened up. A tall brown stallion with an black mane knotted in dread locks with electrical cords in his mane appeared standing in the door way standing a whole hoof talker than me, you think trying to piss with a big pony next to you imagine what its like being dwarfed by one . It’s Power Surge, the head of maintenance. He is an earth pony, like myself, but is he more mellow he is very laid back, although that is to be expected from a pony that only works when he feels like it.

“Docta, we’re in da middle of important council bizness. What is it dat’s so important that you needed to disturb us wid dis?” he calmly tolled me in a firm, authoritative tone.

“Power Surge, I just got an audio transmission from... outside the stable,” I replied to him levelly.

“Outside da Stable? Dat’s impossible. Nothing but death and wasteland is out there,” he replies questioningly.

“Well it’s time to rethink that impossibility.”

He ushered me into the council chambers. Inside is a huge table big enough to sit twelve, and the stable’s main computer.

“Council, I have important news to bring up!” I declared to the council.

An orange Pegasus mare with a crème mane responded first.

“What is it, Power Surge?”

Power Surge speaks with a flat, serious voice. Thanks for ignoreing me orange blossom

“The Docta and 'is assistant, Aroma, just got a Message from outside da Stable"

The mare looked at me questioningly.

“Is this true, Sawbones?”

“Yes, it’s true. Why would I lie?” I Responded in an almost harsh tone. Damn it that mare flat out ignored me the first time how am I meant to feel.

“Can you confirm this, Aroma?” she questioned in a serious, but silky smooth voice.

“Um… yes. Well, I didn't talk to the pony directly, but I was in the room with the Doctor when he got the transmission,” she responded, melting under the pressure.

“Hmm, this is interesting news. This means the surface is somewhat habitable,” she openly states to the room. Another older stallion his coat an icy blue with graying mane and tail speaks up in the back.

“Should we let the outsider in?”

“Is that entirely wise?” another mare her coat a deep scarlet, and a spiked Green mane and tail in the room questions.

“How can we trust that that this outsider doesn't mean to harm the safety of this stable? How do we know this outsider won't try to kill the residents of the Stable?” she continued.

I then interjected with, “He was on his own, and he was extremely scared. Scared for his life,” I continued, “I say we take a Stable security detachment and open the door to see if our guest is hostile. If he isn't, we can let him in. If not, we have enough muscle to forcibly get rid of him.”

The mare with the crème mane looked to me again a flat level look in her eyes.

“The logical compromise as usual, Doctor. It’s settled. We take a security team and open the door to meet this buck. Myself, Power Surge, Anthology, and the Doctor, along with the security team, will go to meet the outsider. Doctor, I recommend you bring your medi-saddle along. If the outsider is hostile, we may need your skills.”

Aroma and I briskly walk back to the clinic. Once inside, I ask Aroma to open up the medicine cabinet. Inside are shelves of perfectly lined up syringes of Med-x painkiller, magical healing potions, bandages, –both mundane and magical– medical alcohol and an assortment of other medical supplies; but the one piece I am interested in within, is the Medi-saddle, a cross between a battle saddle and a Mister Handy bot. It’s equipped with a magical medical laser for precision cutting, a surgical buzz saw for amputations, and an opposable arm with fingers to use syringes and open tins and because the stable has a bit of a roach problem, have a standard issue magical Elderich pistol mounted on the saddle, so I'm not brutally eaten by roaches the size of cats. This was of my own design with a bit of help from the chaps down in maintenance; they helped me make it, some times in the rare cases when the injuries are too severe to move the patient, I need to act there and then the medi-saddle is the item I go for it allows me to do complicated surgery without the fine magical manipulation of unicorns a truly marvelous machine.

So with some help from Aroma, she gets my Medi-saddle on. It’s a bit cumbersome, but beggars can't be choosers. It’s also connected to my Pipbuck’s S.A.T.S Stable-Tec arcane targeting spell, which mostly allows me a greater level of precision when chopping up body parts... and doing surgery.

I Tolled Aroma to go to the living quarters and lock herself in her room, and not to come back out until the situation has been dealt with. I then stroll meet with the security detachment in the atrium. Twelve well armed mares and stallions in full security barding stand with the council members, who are looking imposing as they should. This possibly-a-pony in the entrance to the Stable is potentially hostile, so it’s probably a wise idea to look intimidating instead of putting up a fight themselves.

So in a hastened pace, the group of security ponies, the over council, and little old me fill the door way of Stable 127. There are massive cog-like blast doors that seal the stable from what ever lay beyond. Further, in the cavernous entrance way is an equine-shaped figure, but due to the rust and dust we can’t tell what exactly; but, as the dust begins to settle we hear coughing coming from the tunnel, and the shape walks toward us, pulling a sledge with some sort of metal suit on it.

The dozen armed security ponies leveled their weapons at the shape walking in, but it’s Power Surge who spoke out.

“Who are you? Come forward and be recognised!”

The shape just coughs and splutters. Walking out of the cloud of dust, we can see that it’s a pegasus pulling the sledge.

“Please don't shoot,” the pegasus spoke in a pitiful tone.

“Who are you, and why are you here, pegasus?” Power Surge responds.

“My name is,” He coughed. “Sigil Scope,” he spluttered.

“Please, I need a sanctuary.”

I premptively cut Power Surge off, stopping him from talking.

“It’s obvious that this pony means no harm.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right, Doctor,” the cream mare replies, “Take him to your clinic and see to him.”

Then, pointing at two of the security stallions, she continues, “Take his sledge down to maintenance. Get them to have a look at it and his suit.”

So, while being escorted by two mares from security, the pegasus –well, ‘Sigil,’– and myself, make our way back to the clinic.

Sitting him down on one of the beds for the patients, I ask him, “Are you hurt friend?”

He only replies, “I'm...well. I don't see any holes in me, so I think I'm good.”

I smirk at his retort. Upon closer examination, I see that Sigil has an Orangy-dust coloured coat, with a short blonde mane which is a bit mangy. It would look like he was dragged backwards through a hedge if all of the hedges weren't dead and dried up. Looking down toward his flanks, examining him, it seems that his cutie mark isn’t, well, anything. It seems as if he was branded with a cloud with what looked like a lightning bolt striking.

“Sigil what’s going on with your cutie mark?” I say in a curious, questioning tone.

He just looks at me with distain.

“I lost my cutie mark for standing up for what I believed in!” he says at me in a harsh, commanding tone.

“Oh, I see,” I say, sounding regretful for even mentioning it.

Suddenly a huge explosion rattles the whole stable.

“WHAT IN LUNA’S MARE HEAT WAS THAT!?” I exclaim at no pony in particular. Looking out of the clinic window I see a fire fight. Outside, it looks like security ponies are being shot at with energy weapons, which at the best of times is discouraging.

“These guys friends of yours?” I sarcastically say to Sigil, who is pulling himself up to the singed window frame.

“Oh no... No, no, no! I need to leave now! If I don't leave soon, they will kill everypony in their way to get to me, as well as anypony found with me!”

“Well you know the obvious course of action is that we get you out of here!” I retort.

He just stands there, silently backing away from the window. He looks at me, with worry-filled eyes.

“Any bright ideas, Doctor, on how you plan to achieve that goal?”

“Uhhh...Wait for the guys outside to pass, hoping they don't come in here, and when they have their backs turned, make for the entrance. Hopefully once they've noticed you've left, they'll leave my Stable alone.” He stares at me with a 'fantastic, I'm going to be killed either way' kind of look.

“Fine. I haven't got many better options, now do I?”

I turned away from him. Peeking out the window, I could see that the security ponies had stopped firing back. That meant one of three things: One, they are dead. Those are bad but acceptable losses, necessary to save the stable. Two, they are pinned down, at which point it was only a matter of time until the intruders find us. I'll either end up as pony pate', a pile of ashes, or a glowing puddle. All options sound less than pleasant than the last, don't they? The third, and best, option is that they fell back deeper into the stable. I hope it’s the latter that is true.

I can also see that the invaders are wearing a similar sort of big, metal armour that Sigil came in with. They have what looks like plasma pistols built into the armour, but I can’t quite be sure.

“What are they wearing, Sigil?” I say, glancing back at him while he hides from view of the window.

“Mark two enclave powered armour, armed with quad plasma pistols and a stinging tail. I doubt you'll make much of a dent in the armour. You'd have to get very lucky... or be me.”

The last bit sounded almost arrogant and overconfident, so I just huff back at him looking out over the atrium watching the armoured insecticidal carapaces of the intruders pass by.

Looking back to Sigil, I say, “Come on, follow me. We're getting out of here.”

So, as quietly and as sneakily as... well, a concrete elephant with a brass band on its back, we blunder right into what looks like the intruders’ leader.

He’s a pegasus like the others, but is wearing a brown kind of padded jacket and he has a holster for a weapon that looks vaguely similar to my battle saddle’s Elderich pistol. Before I have much time to react, he reaches for his pistol. I swear, I can see my life flash before my eyes. It was... a constant stream of grey… with occasional trips… to the lavatory… Yeah, it’s that boring. But how would I be telling you this story if I had died there and then, hmm?

Here's how: As this pegasus is about to make me pony pate', Sigil some how saves my life. What he says happened was that he grabbed a syringe that was in one of the pockets of my medical barding, and he tossed it at the attacker hitting him directly in the eye, causing him to writhe in pain. The irony was in the fact that it was a syringe of Med-X painkiller. Seeing my attacker was now incapacitated and with an ironic pain in his right eye, I contemplated something. Now, while stealing things off living ponies –even if they’re trying to kill you– still feels wrong, but the cold logical part of my mind disagrees.

            ‘We may need his gun to survive. Give it to Sigil.’

So, suppressing my sense of right and wrong, beating it up, and throwing it in a dark corner of my mind, I take the pistol off the trooper and give it over to Sigil. He does something that makes me cringe. Ugh, no pony should have to die that way. I was about to be like that myself, just seconds earlier. Sigil turns the pistol on the attacker, seeing pure fear in his eyes, or rather, eye. He becomes a puddle within seconds.

I just watched what was a living, breathing pony become little more glowing gloop in front of my eyes. My mind is in shock. It was one thing to hurt and steal off of ponies, but another to kill them. Before I can shout at Sigil for doing that, we have bigger problems. One of the armoured pegasi comes back up the stairs.

Darting for the door to the entrance way, we both narrowly avoid being minced by its quad-mounted weapons. Several of its shots burn my hide. With a lucky ‘woosh,’ the mechanical door shuts, just as the bolts of Elderich fire crackle against the metal skin of the door.

“Quick, we need to move before the pegasus has the good sense to come after us with his mates.”

However, Sigil is already a step ahead of me, rushing down into the open doorway of the stable, amongst the corpses of several security ponies, as well as the still-alive Overcouncil, save Power Surge. From a cursory glance, he’s not amongst the bodies, but there aren’t any gloopy puddles, so he isn’t radioactive sludge.

Sigil grabs his sledge-pulling rope in his mouth and, sort of muffled, says “Lead fffor thed door.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Without much of a second thought, I make for the open cog door of Stable 127, but stop in front of it, the immensity of its size overwhelming me. I now know that the outside is habitable but am I going to leave my home? Sure, it’s not a great place to live, but it’s still my home. If I leave, I most likely won't be let back in. I could still run and hide, leaving Sigil to his fate in the chance the invaders follow and close the door behind them.

Or, I can leave with Sigil. his near-nil chances of survival would increase to a slim chance but am I prepared to leave? Sadly, I can’t have this debate at that second. There are angry knocks at the doors behind me, so unless I leave now, I will almost certainly be killed by the intruders behind me. So, I leave, with little more than my barding, my Medi-saddle, and a slightly burnt canteen– no thanks to some near misses to my derrière. Galloping down the cavern leading into the stable, I emerge inside some kind of vehicle repair place. All the tools are lying around. But, we have little time to admire the ruins, as we know that half a dozen pissed-off-pegasi are about to kill us unless we hide, and fast. So, we drag the sledge behind the half destroyed wreck of some kind of rusted vehicle and hide like our lives depend on it, which as a matter of fact, they did. Not long after, the insect-like bodies of the pegasi emerge, flying to the north. They probably believe that was where we went, so it seemed we had successfully duped them and eluded capture. Taking deep breaths I glanced up at a hole in the ceiling of the building.

I could see a never ending expanse of the night sky.

Doctor Sawbones

Earth pony Grey coat with a Grey mane and tail with red highlights

Cutie mark: A bronze disk with a first aid cross on it

Special

S4 P8 (9) E5 C3 I10 A4 L6

Barter 9

Battle saddles 13

Explosives 16

Guns 6

Lockpicks 21

M.E.W 41

Repair 28

Medicine 43

Melee 6

Science 43

Sneak 11

Speach 14

Survival 3

Unarmed 8

Traits

Four Eyes

"my glasses I can't see with out my glasses" you need thick rims to see properly

when with out glasses your at -1 perception when with glasses at +1 perception

Stable Doctor

Your a Doctor not a Death dealer learning how to do precision surgery and repair a Medi-saddle doesn't lead you to armed combat less you want to take them on with a bonesaw or a scapulae You begin with a Pipbuck and training for it and +5 to Medicine, Science, Repair, Energy weapons and Speech But -5 to Guns, Melee weapons, Explosives and Unarmed and your Survival is equal to half your luck

Perks

Wasteland Surgeon

You may not be able to fix the wasteland but you can fix the ponies in it

You can restore crippled limbs (without needing or consuming a Doctor's Bag). For purposes of healing limb damage, you may may divide healing between the limbs of your choice.  You gain a +2% Critical Chance bonus on non-deformed creatures.

Chapter Two Darkness

Fallout Equestria:

Sundered Steel: Chapter 2: Darkness

I don't remember how long I stared at the night sky. The immensity and simple beauty seemed to capture, if not, demand my complete attention, it entranced my eyes and locked my senses to it, but Sigil shook me out of my stupor.

“We need to move before they find out we duped them.” He dragged me off the floor to my hooves, and continued, “But grab some of these tools when we find a place to properly rest. You can help me fix my suit.”

“Whoa, wait, why do you think I have to stay with you? I could try going home now! what's stopping me?” I retorted. I was quite angry at him commanding me to do what he wanted when I saved his life... twice.

“What options do you have right now? They won't let you back. You caused this, even if not directly. Those that survived are going to be very upset, so you can't go back.”

The words stung like salt in a wound, but it was true. I had caused this. I had just caused more pain, misery, and suffering to my Stable and I couldn't go back.

“Y-your right,” I said, drooping my head and ears down. “I guess I'm sorta’ stuck with you now.”

He just turned away and started rooting through the ruins, looking for anything of value. He found a pair of saddle bags and a locked medical box. Now, I'm no locksmith –or worse, a thief– but I had some delinquency in my youth that gave me some knowledge of locks. Rooting ‘round the rubble, I found a few bobby pins. There were many screwdrivers lying around, so I just grabbed the nearest one and set to picking the lock. Now, my skills were a bit rough, but the lock was quite heavily rusted. With a simple push of the screwdriver, the box yielded its reward: two healing potions and a set of bandages. I have no doubt they will prove useful in coming days. Other than the tools lying around, there wasn't much to take; unless Sigil really liked stones and twisted rebar.

We stepped out into the wastes. Now, I had read of the world before all of this. It used to be a beautiful place of green rolling hills and flowery meadows, but now the hills were replaced by rocky mounds, the flowery meadows replaced with long dead fields and weary, decaying trees not allowed to die. Night was, and still is, an alien concept. Yes, there was some semblance of night time back home, but that was limited to ponies coming on and off there shifts. Now that I was thinking about it, how could the clock in the stable be so different to out here? My Pipbuck said the time was around 10:30 AM, but out here it was somewhere closer to late night; but, we had to move on. The darkness, while enclosing, was more comforting than threatening. Sigil turned left down the cracked path in front of us. It probably resembled a road once upon a time. He trotted down the road with some unknown purpose, his sledge tracking behind him like a sniffer hound.

Following behind him, I called out to him.

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here. I don't care where,” he retorted, marching away down the road.

My underused legs struggled to keep up. “Hey, wait up I'm not in as good physical shape as you!” My canter was almost keeping up with his trot. “So, we didn't really have much time to chat when your friends turned up and started shooting at us.” He turned his head to glare at me.

“They’re not my friends. They are far from it. They were trying to kill me, remember? They’ve tried on several occasions.” He had a look that made my blood run cold.

“Sorry I asked,” I muttered to myself.

       Glancing back out to our surroundings, I could see the darkness being penetrated by the mottled sunlight of dawn through the putrid looking cloud cover. The feeling of sunlight –while similar to that of the Stable lighting in its intensity– felt comparatively warmer, even in the chilly wind of dawn.

We could see a… something in the distance. A building... no a wall... made out... of carriages?

“What In Celestia's name is that in the distance?” I ask Sigil.

“Its a road fort.”

“Road fort?” I said, looking at him with a look of both confusion and questioning.

“It’s where we're going to get some rest,” he continued in a flat tone.

Why did I have the strange feeling that this may go horribly wrong? Granted, that might just be me being pessimistic, which, to be fair, is very much like me. I'm definitely that pony that sits in the corner rocking himself, saying, 'We're all going to die!'

Anyway the blonde-maned stallion dragged his sledge to one side of the road. He took some sort of beam weapon with a scope off of the sledge, holding the grip in his mouth. Now, I have the fortune of having opposable limbs with weapons on them, but most ponies –I would imagine– would have to use their tongue to fire the weapon. I looked out down the scope at this road fort.

“Damn.”

“What's wrong?” I looked at him with some measure of worry.

“It’s fucking raiders. Great, what a fun day this'll be.”

“Raiders? Sorry, you think I live outside. You must have forgotten that I’ve been living in a hole in the ground for my whole life.”

“Well, Mister Sarcasm, a raider is a pony that has taken leave of their senses and moral compass. They survive by stealing off other ponies, usually killing them in horrible, gruesome ways. To surmise, they will kill us, rape us, then eat us, and if were lucky, in that order. They can't be bargained or reasoned with, and don't be so stupid as to surrender to them, or they will just do what I told you they would. Clear?” The thought of ponies doing that to one another was horrifying. My mind just couldn't fathom the thought.

We had to come up with a plan. What we came up with was sound... in theory; though, I hope it won't go pear shaped.

I suggested that Sigil hide up on a ridge overlooking the fort and cover me, taking out any raiders that moved out of cover or were so overconfident as to try and engage us in melee combat. While that happens, I will move up, dealing with them one at a time with the shorter ranged weapon mountings of the Medi-Saddle. Mind you, it was not made for combat; it was designed to help with surgery. However, I was armed with a Elderich pistol, so I felt we had a good chance working together. Though, I had my doubts that he wouldn't just high tail it and pick through my corpse.

At least we were doing a better job of stealth than back at the Stable. The raiders just seemed too oblivious to what was going on. Peeking ‘round a corner on the metallic fortress, I could see that a pony was urinating, with some difficulty. He most likely had a bladder infection. His barding was little more than tatters of hide with bits of metal and other indescribable foulness. Even being a good 18 feet away, his stench was horrific. He smelled of what can only be described as raw sewage. Scanning my eyes down him, his cutie mark was partially covered by his “barding,” but from what I could make out it looked like a puddle of blood with... something in it; maybe a dismembered head.

Pulling my head back behind the wall, I take a moment of pause. I use a little-used feature of the Pipbuck, the Eyes Forward Sparkle (E.F.S). This function allows the user to see where creatures are and their level of hostility. Scanning around, there were about a half dozen hostile blips, and one friendly, inside the fort. Sigil, up on the ridge, also showed up friendly. Looking at the situation more and more, the idea of killing a pony is just a daunting prospect; but if even half of the things I can imagine these depraved ponies do to other ponies actually happened, it would be worth it. Even from the graffiti above me, I can see utter brutality depicted in the crude paintings on these walls.

Picking up a rock and tossing it around the corner, the raider stopped his piss, which I expect was something he wanted to do. Inquiringly, he walked toward the corner. As he came round it, I snuck behind him. I activated the feature of my Pipbuck –that may become invaluable in this very hostile world– the Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell or S.A.T.S. for short. Using the hand of my Medi-Saddle, I took a scalpel out of the many pockets of my medical barding. It slit his throat, the blood spurting out, painting the sand red. I think I cut his Carotid Artery, so his death was quick and semi-painless.

I did it. I took a life. My job is to save life at every opportunity. It didn't matter if these were disgusting ponies. At best, they were animals that can't fight their nature to be this way, and needed to be put down.

My thoughts were rushing around my head, but the single most cohesive one was, 'How did I bring myself to do it? Yes, it was my Medi-saddle, but it was the instrument of murder!' However, I don't have time to feel sorry about taking a raider’s life. There is now one more raider that this group will miss and go looking for, before long. So, while I still had the element of surprise on my side, I moved up the entrance, peering ‘round inside. What I saw made my stomach churn, and I'm used to death and gore. There was a pony whose flesh was rended off, its body exposing the organs and bones in a pile beneath it. From what I could tell from a cursory glance, it was a unicorn. From its size, it was probably a stallion. The colours of his coat were unrecognizable. In an emptied out carriage was a raider pony having it off with a mare. Her minty-green mane was matted with blood, and was bedraggled. Several bruises showed their way though her hazel coloured coat. Her screams of protest meant nothing to the raider atop her, while others just watched her being raped, laughing and calling her a “whore,” and a “slut.” This only managed to enrage me. How could ponies ever bring themselves to do this to other ponies? The heat of my anger could have melted the steel around me. I wanted to end them, my own survival be damned.

Bursting out from behind the wall, I slipped into SATS and took aim with the Elderich Pistol, firing two bolts of the green energy into the first raider. His body glowed a sickly green colour, then turned into a gloopy puddle. I fired a third shot at a raider laughing at the mare being raped. They rushed for their weapons because of the suddenness of my attack, but I ducked behind the wall to give my self time for the spell to recharge. From up on the ridge, Sigil locked one of the raiders in his sights, the beam turning one of the raiders in to a slightly pink ash right in front of his “friends.” It was now four on two, and as far as I can tell, they didn't know about the sniper on the ridge.

I thought that moving up was a sound idea and would keep anypony from seeing Sigil on the ridge, so dashing forward, I jumped behind the cover of a upturned table. The remaining raiders opened fire on me with several firearms, spraying them at me. one  unicorn raider armed with a metal rectangular weapon with a long clip managed to get a few shots at me. At least two rounds buried themselves deep in my flank as I dived into cover. The burning sensation in my flank was excruciating. I could easily fix myself, but I would have to survive this encounter, which seemed more and more foolhardy every second.

SATS had recharged and I was ready to end this fight and get a healing potion down my gullet. That would do wonders with my bullet wounds. So, poking up my head, I entered the compressed time space of SATS and lined my shots up. I fired one shot into the head of each raider, managing to hit two and kill them both, but not reducing them to goo. The third shot hit what looked like a toaster, which, like the raider before, became glowing green slurry. While I dispatched the raiders, the one raping the mare had stepped out wielding a very big gun. It hung from his torso like my Medi-saddle did. He turned his attention on to me. His massive guns were up, telling of only death and destruction, and he shot at me, shredding much of the table, turning it mostly into splinters, but somehow missing my already perforated body. The gun thankfully had to catch its breath before trying to make mince out of me. Sigils deadeye aim claimed another victim. He shot the other raider shooting at me, once again vaporizing her instantly... at least I believe she was a she.

Moving quick before that buzzsaw of bullets had a chance to fire again, I dove for cover by a mobile home. Its metal hide would surely offer some greater protection than that of a wooden table, so when the raider opened fire on me, I hid while most of the shots harmlessly ricocheted off. This allowed me time to let my spell recharge once again for the killing blow against the rapist, but Sigil took a shot first, his beam reflected away by the welding mask of the gun-saddle-toting psychopath. My personal feelings of rage and contempt for this pony got the better of me. Striding out from behind cover, I began to gallop. I hit him with my head, butting the raider, which was much larger than myself, at full tilt. Just as he began to bring his guns to bear on me, I again knocked him into the floor, where I threw back the wielding mask. I pointed the Elderich pistol right at his eyes. My teeth gritted. In a rage filled and harsh voice I lash out at him.

“Why do you do this to ponies, you sick bastard?!” Before he could answer I fired into the raiders head, causing it to explode in a shower of gore. After that, my rage began to fade and I blacked out.

Before my body decided to stop functioning, I could see the feint silhouette of a pegasus coming down from above.

Foot note: Level up

New Perk added: Bullet magnet: you just seem to attract bullets to you good thing you learned to not get so badly hurt by them you are 10% more likely to be hit with slug throwers but take 25% less damage from them.

Skill note: Magical energy weapons 50

Lockpicks 25

Chapter Three Death

Fallout Equestria: Sundered Steel

Chapter 3 Death

I don't remember being shot again but its possible that I was. I'm fairly sure I'm not dead because I'm... well I don't know I could be dead maybe this is what death felt like...its not so bad really it was painful at one point but now it just feels peaceful, feels a bit more like a dull throbbing ...no I'm not dead I've not lived long enough yet I'm not going to die not here not now.

Wait I can hear something…, it sounds like Sigil! He's talking...what's he saying? Does he think I'm dead? He's picking through my corpse, picking it clean isn’t he? No… it doesn't sound like that, it sounds like he's, trying to... save me. What is that colt doing! He's not a trained medical pony! He'll make a mess of it! I’ll end up stitched back together with my own entrails; he’ll also probably leave a fucking filthy-ass scalpel behind!

I then felt the blade of a blunt knife jam into my flank throwing me back to reality.

“For the love of Celestia! Holy shit Sigil! That hurt!” I screamed out at the sudden agony.

“Thank Luna that you’re still alive, I was worried that you were lost to the land of the living.” I could detect the sound of genuine relief in his voice.

I sighed, “I’m fine, so you can quit worrying about me, on the other hoof though, the mare that was being raped, is she okay?” I asked him. I really hoped she was alright, nothing some counselling and a bath or two… or Tweleve won't fix.

“Don't worry about her, she's fine.” he glanced over at the mare whose coat was heavily matted with blood and... things best left unknown and unmentioned. I can see some bruising has come through on her where her coat has been shaved back a bit... although it might have been I wasn't too perceptive, unlikely I may add, and didn't see the bruises, but it’s possible she inflicted them on herself but we have no way of  knowing for sure.

The light was beginning to dip down below the horizon shedding a near radioactive orange glow over the wasteland. Slowly my bullet-ridden body regained function and became more alert even through the pain that streaked through my body. I found myself lying on a mattress which looks like it’s been soaked in blood, other bodily fluids.

I find it hard to believe that raiders would enjoy sleeping on filthy beds, but it seems as though that might be the case out here, they may be sadistic, murdering, psychopaths but they should have some basic standards right?

It turned out that the pony with the huge gun saddle managed to get a few shots off into my chest while my blind fury and sheer rage stopped me from feeling pain. Well… until Sigil stabbed my damn flank like a moron seriously, does he know anything about medicine?! Knives are NOT used to remove bullets; you use either the specialised tool for removing bullets or a pair of pliers! A knife is the last resort jeez!

But I shouldn't be so hard on him; it was lucky he woke me up when he did, I was slowly losing blood and if I remained unconscious for any length of time longer, this story would have been cut remarkably short. Anyway I removed the bullets from my body using the proper tools from both the Medi-Saddle and my medical barding then took out one of the healing potions from an ancient saddle bag Sigil found amongst the rubble, now that I think about it, I never thanked him. I made a mental note while looking at the bullet holes close up in my body to thank Sigil for finding it for me.

“It’s so much better to not have holes in you.”

I looked around and saw Sigil rummaging through the detritus of the raider camp. I notice a deep feeling of fury that Sigil has been reduced to hunting for scraps in what can be effectively called a dung heap with a smell to match instead of helping a victim of rape.

“What are you doing Sigil!?” I snapped with a scornful look on my face

He flinched, but answered anyway “I'm scavenging, they don't need it anymore.”

“Yes I can see that, but what have you done with her?” I motioned to the mare.

His gaze shifted from the dead to me and he is looking at me somewhat quizzically “Her?”

“What am I going to do to help her? You’re the only damn doctor here!” he shouted.

“Well, that didn't stop you from playing doctor earlier! Whatever Sigil I'll do the right thing”

I struggled to my hooves, because the potion hadn’t quite finished its job, and half hobbled to the mare.

She tried to crawl away to a corner of the fort. She didn't seem scared even though she had been raped and the gunfight. I can also see that she'd been beaten very recently as in in the last half hour which seems odd to me at my best guess I was out cold at least an hour maybe two how would she have gotten bruises while I was out cold and Sigil was too busy making sure I'm not dead. Her cutie mark was covered in blood and dirt I couldn't tell what it was there was almost nothing to go by.

I continued approaching her

“Hey, are you alright?” I whisper to her softly.

“Y-y-yes, I’m a-alright.” The mare stuttered.

“Why don't you tell me your name?” I asked her.

“M-my name is Br..Bright Light.”

“Well, Bright Light, I'm sorry we didn't come to you earlier but all the raiders here are gone”

She just sat there tearless and cold.

“If there is anything my… friend and I can do to help you, all you need to do is ask.” The relationship between Sigil and I was hardly friendly, but it’s a hell of a lot friendlier than what I experienced with most of the Stable residents.

I talked to her while I walked back to Sigil, who had managed to gather a pile of supplies that included several metal boxes and a medical box which looks like somepony was bludgeoned to death with. He also pulled together the weapons off the corpses. I’m no gun expert, that’s one thing Sigil is useful for. He knows his way around a firearm, but even to my untrained eye I could tell, that from all the duct tape and rust, these weapons are in terrible condition. To be honest, I was surprised that these weapons didn't just back fire, break apart, or blow up.

Sigil pushed the locked boxes and medical box and set me to work unlocking them. The locks are a bit of a challenge, as they are in better condition, but with a little work they gave up their precious contents to me. The medical box contains a bottle of Rad-away, which will be very useful with all the radioactive puddles of muck I'll trudge through, Sigil won’t, because he can fly. There are also a few syringes of Med-X painkiller, damn, what I wouldn’t have given to have one of these a couple hours ago!

Inside the other locked boxes is some ammo for a number of slug throwers. Trying them with the guns he had found Sigil and I discovered the ammo was for all the weapons they had. I think after some more thought about being logical and insuring our own survival by not going to the mare and taking from the dead. Taking bullets over bodies doesn't excuse him in my eyes, but it’s understandable. The weapons he had found were 10mm SMG four smooth bore rabbit guns. Exactly why anypony would want to hunt a rabbit is beyond me, we don't eat meat, and I doubt blood sport is a logical reason. He also found a few 9mm pistols, but other than that, there is nothing here that is worth us using so Sigil and I just stored the guns inside our saddle bags along with the ammo and a pile of other odds and ends that may be worth something in barter.

Night is beginning to close in, before long it would be difficult to travel. But it’s not like we have anywhere to travel to right now, unless Sigil has some secret mission he's on, and wanders off in the night.

I set to work on unlocking more boxes while Sigil worked on starting a fire, and repairing his suit, which he had dragged goodness knows how far, I sat down by the fire its warm glow feeling warm on my coat against the cold of the evening.

“Sigil?”

He looked up from what he was doing on his armour “Can I help you Sawbones?”

“I've been wondering about a few things. Would you mind if I asked you about some of them?”

“You’re just a mountain of questions aren't you? Go ahead ask away.” He huffed at me then looked back to his work.

“Why did you come to my stable? Couldn't you have found another safe location? There must be enough ruins that could shield you rather than going to my stable, where there was no certainty of being let in?”

He paused for a second, looking a little confused by the questions. “Sawbones let me answer your questions with one of my own. “Why did your ancestors go to that stable in the first place?”

Before I could answer he cut me off. “They went because it’s near enough bomb-proof. It could take a balefire bomb to the door to even come close to failing to protect the occupants, that’s why the other stables I visited in the region either didn't open up or are filled to bursting with nasty gribblies.”

There are other stables? We had been told back in my old stable that we’re the only survivors of the apocalypse and it was our duty, when the world was ready, to emerge and repopulate the surface.

“So there are other stables out in the wastes?” I asked.

“Certainly there were more before the war. No pony save stable-tec actually knows the exact number of stables, but since none of them are known to be alive, the number may be lost to time now.”

“Okay next question. Is there civilization? Please tell me there are towns and settlements, not just wandering wastelanders.” I looked at him expectantly.

“Yes there are towns and settlements out there. Those are nothing compared to the city of Detrot.  A massive city built back before the war.”

“What?” Of all the things I expected, a whole city was far from one of them.

“Yep, a whole city, out in the wasteland ran by… well frankly nopony knows who the leader of

Detrot is.” Sigil explained.

“There must be rumours about him though, right?” I felt kind of bad about prying.

“There aren't many, the only thing anypony agrees upon is that he was there before the war.”

“Sorry, I think my ears need syringing. He was alive before the war?!” I exclaimed.

“Well that is the accepted idea.”

“Why doesn't he tell everypony the truth?”

“He never leaves the Casino Palace that’s downtown and nopony enters.”

“Okay let me get this straight. The city of Detrot is run by a single pony in his Casino that is downtown Detrot correct?”

“Bingo.” Sigil came back without missing a beat.

“He doesn't leave the Casino or let anypony in to see him for any reason?”

“Right” Sigil nodded.

“Also, the only thing anypony really agrees on is that he was around before the war?”

“Yes” Sigil cracked his neck and looked back at his work.

“Does anypony know his name?”

“From what his robots say his name is Mister Trotter”

“He has robots too?!”

“Yep, and also reformed tribals.”

“Okay, this story is officially entering the realms of bullshit right now.”

Sigil looked up from what he was doing. “Belief is optional Sawbones”

With that I left him to his repairs. I'm exhausted after today's fighting, between that and the blood loss I could use a good long—my thoughts were interrupted by what sounded to be a medium explosion.

“What the hell is that?”

Looking around I can see that the mare had scarpered and Sigil was ducking down behind a trailer attempting to get his armour on. I heard a light clink and looked down to see that an apple like object landed in front of me. While I was backpedalling from the surprise the apple exploded, throwing me back with a face full of shrapnel, my flimsy stable barding offering next to no protection – what a day this is turning out to be, shot up and now blown up, I checked my body to see if anything was broken, my ears were bleeding, but my Medi-saddle seemed undamaged. I can see Sigil is hovering above the camp skirmishing with the attackers, his armour causing the bullets to ricochet harmlessly off. Unlike the ones in the stable who used weapons mounted on their armour, he was using his beam rifle in his mouth and firing into the enemies. I hauled my battered body to the entrance and peered outside, my vision hazy.

Outside is about seven or eight raiders really hard to tell in the darkness and haze but a, reasonable guess would be they are other raiders that live here. Several of them are tossing more of those metal apples at Sigil. My vision is darkening at the edges, different than that of the darkness of the night. My mind battled through the haze while I brought up SATS, I lined up four shots with the beam mounting aim at several of the raider’s heads. In my wounded state, SATS dictated that the bullets only had about a 27% chance to hit, so my chances of hitting them seemed to be dropping.

By a wonderful vein of luck I shot and killed the first raider turning him to ash. *zwishh* the second raider went down in a glowing ash cloud. The last two shots missed, flew into the night, and quietly illuminated the wastes. Sigil, his aim somewhat off, fired at several of the Raiders one bouncing off of one of their guns and hitting another raider in the face, instantly turning the raiders to ashes. Their return fire was deadly accurate, 4 bullets lodging themselves in my chest, knocking me down to the ground, blood spilling out of me. This was it… I was truly going to die now, death feels so, calming.

Opening up my eyes for probably the last time, I can see Sigil fighting hard against the raiders, but being forced back out of my vision, raiders in their horrific armours and barely functioning guns moving up. One of them dropped their gun and pulled out a knife from a scabbard on her barding, the blood of her last victim caked on it. My vision slipped away and the next time I opened my eyes the female raider stood over me, her yellowed eyes staring down me, between her teeth was a large knife. She tried to talk, but I couldn't make out what she is saying.

“New yook hasty…”

Before she could start to butcher me she was shot in the head with a beam of magical energy causing it to burst apart, splattering my face with skull and brain matter. Once again my vision faded.

Opening up my eyes once again I could see a Sigil towering over my body, worrying about me and patching me up with some bandages. Before he could finish, a pair of familiar legs connected with the skull of the Pegasus knocking him out cold/ but the legs look sort of familiar ...they belong to the mare that was being “raped” earlier she wasn't being raped, she was a part these sick and twisted ponies! She now stood over Sigil, picking up a sledge hammer off the ground and began pummelling him. His armour being the only thing preventing him being beaten into a pulp. I can't let him die like that. That’s no way to die, being betrayed and bludgeoned into a bloody mess.

Forcing some clarity through the blackness, dragging my bullet and blood covered body up off the ground. Shakily and with purpose I made my resistant body put one hoof infront of the other.

I made my way over to the mare, picking up one of the weapons of the raiders, a single barrelled kind of long arm that looks like its reloaded at the stock. I put it in my mouth and held it to the base of the traitorous mare’s head before she could turn to face me and hit me with that heavy hammer. I just eased my tongue on the trigger blowing the back of her head through the front, instantly killing her.

Letting the firearm fall from my mouths grip I allowed my body the luxury of blacking out properly...

I remember this I was like it happened just a few hours ago. I think I'm going to die. It’s okay though I saved Sigil...once again but I can die happy knowing I saved him.

Chapter 0 Prologue

Fallout Equestria: Sundered Steel

Prologue

Friendship... Friendship never changes. The wasteland is like a deep wound, with the help of a good surgeon you can mend a wound. it will leave a scar a reminder that nothing ever fully heals in all things, the wasteland has many deep wounds and many surgeons are needed to fix them, but this is the story of just one of those wound mending surgeons, a literal surgeon from a stable.

In a little wasteland town a wasteland doctor closes up shop for the evening, he wares a pale blue jump suit, long since worn threadbare, ragged and patchwork from many years of hard wear, three numbers still in bright sunburst yellow, stitched into the back, 127, his mane and tail now long since grown white with age, a few  weary stands clinging to colour, a pale scarlet. He begins to walk to his home, kicking up dust in the wake of another day the bright sun shedding its final rays on this day, as he walks spying into the distance a rising spire of civilization, the City of Detrot, a small smile creeps over his face as he turns home to see the door open, and his little filly waiting for him on the front porch.

"Daddy!" she cries out in joy seeing this age'd of ponies come home. Diving onto him and tightly hugging his neck, a rare tenderness in a world so cruel.

He says nothing carrying the greatest gift ever given to him inside his home, sitting in his favorite chair, a crimson high back, old and threadbare, like his clothing. He sits his little filly down on his lap smiling all the while.

"Daddy," The filly looking up at the elder stallion with bright eyed affection. "you promised to tell me a story when you got home"

"Hmm..." "I believe I did dearest which story do you want to hear?"

"Tell me the story of that Doctor. You know which one I mean Daddy! "

"hmm I think I remember the story, listen close its a long story..."