Fallout Equestria: Rough Water

Fore note: After the quite positive response I got back from readers, I felt like continuing the story. No, this isn’t milking it since I had plans for a full-length story before I even published it.

Chapter 1: Recrudescence

I heard something… My eyes slowly opened to see a nice drift wood counter.

Yes I defiantly heard something. Somepony is speaking.

I pulled my upper body off the counter and it’s splinter filled grain and noticed the empty bottle of Sake (the alcoholic beverage the local Zebras make from their rice Patties) beside me.

I could here the voices a bit clearer now that I was slightly more awake, and I heard hoof steps to.

A hoof touched my shoulder and a grabbed the Bottle and swung it around to beat the shit out of who ever was trying to fuck with me.

When I found myself looking at a quite scared Swordfish I stopped my swing, dropped the bottle, and the sudden spin I did made me nauseous so I also threw up.

“Damn dude you’re hammered…” She said as she watched me empty the contents of my stomach onto the ground. Judging from the texture of my bile I had been binge drinking and not eating for the past three to four days.

“Private Swordfish! Use Navy approved language around indigenous zebras or I will stick you with crow's nest duty until the day you die!” Oh fuck me Brawny was seeing this to! As I coughed up the last contents of my stomach I noticed the irony that this was the same bar I dragged Swordfish out of about a week ago.

I stumbled to my hooves and tried to focus on what was going on around me. “What’s? What’s going on?” I asked as Swordfish stepped over to help me stand, making me realize that I had been swaying back and forth. Odd usually it’s me helping her out of a bar.

“Well you’re on hangover, lucky Xager taught me how to get over that really quickly. In terms of what’s going on well-”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that. Also Swordfish told me what Xager’s technique for breaking hangover is and I believe it will serve as adequate punishment for not conducting yourself as a marine should while on shore leave.” Brawny interjected.

While they walked me out of the bar they conversed as only they could.

“So as long as I use Xager’s method I can drink as much as I want of shore leave?”

“No.”

“But?!”

“No, because it’s not a deterrent for you. So drop it.”

“But?!”

“Remember when I told you to drop it? Consider that a standing order.”

They had maneuvered me over to the beach by the dock. Now I wasn’t sure what made this anti-hangover treatment constitute punishment, and I didn’t even want to know.

Swordfish gave me a violent shove and once I had fallen over, held my head under the water! Air escaped me as I tried to call out for help, my lungs burnt and my vision darkened. Then I was pulled out coughing and breathing fast and shallow. “You see oxygen helps fix hang over.” Back under again only to be pulled out before drowning. “So by drowning you to make you hyperventilate,” Back under back up. “we flood your lungs with oxygen.” Back under, back up. “The only problem is that it might make your heart explo-” I cut Swordfish’s explanation short with a right hook to the head, and I think I could figure out what she was going to say. “Ow… Ok he’s better!” The look on her face told me that she wasn’t too hurt and that was good, I didn’t want to hurt her she was trying to help. Right?

I staggered to shore and emptied my stomach again in the sand. “Ok… Now what’s this about a mission?” I asked, breathing slowly to reassume normal heart rate, breathing patterns and adrenalin levels.

Brawny’s tone reeked of disgust and disapproval. “Well now, while you were drinking your self to death the Patriotic Fire returned from repairs and-”

“The Patriotic Fire was out of segment for repairs? Forgive me my memory’s hash at the moment.” I cut in. Well what? My memory was!

Brawny’s tone turned to one of annoyance, like I was an insolent cadet in need of discipline. “Hull damage, damage to the Bow 18 inch guns, we had to get a replacement for the Monarch, and in case you forgot; one flack cannon completely torn apart!” The last part hit me harder than any bullet could, and rightfully so.

“I feel that last part was uncalled for sir.” Swordfish tried to interject.

“Swordfish speak out of line again and I’ll get them to reinstall boilers just so you can shovel coal! Now if you’ll let me finish. Our new assignment has to do with the third ship on the horizon.” I took my first look out on the ocean with the setting sun silhouetting three ships. The tell tale front profile of the Patriotic Fire dominated the scenery, however to it’s port there was what appeared to be a Destroyer, the command segment we operated was more or less the back water (literally) so a destroyer was a rare sight. To the Patriotic Fire’s starboard there was a small ship that met the description of a corvette. That seemed more akin to our command segment.

“So what? Are we being reassigned?” I asked, reassignment was an unusual thing; if you’re born on a ship you generally spend your entire life in service aboard that ship.

Brawny gave an annoyed grunt. “We don’t know, they just want our fire team for briefing. We would know already if we didn’t have to drag your sorry ass out of a bar.”

“So which ship is the Monarch’s replacement?” Prior knowledge told me it should be corvette, but most ships aren’t replacing a ship that was literally slagged.

“We don’t know-”

“The admiralty wants this event and all pertaining to it secure so the destroyer is actually being assigned to Wind Way, the destroyer also has a mini sub in cargo that will be used to explore the downed sky ship. I have no clue what the corvette is for though.” Swordfish interjected.

Once again, Brawny was anything but amused. “You were eavesdropping again weren’t you?”

“Among other things. I keep telling you I eavesdrop because I get put in the crow’s nest, and you keep putting me in the crow’s nest. I’m starting to think that you enjoy my “intelligence service”.” She said, moving her fore hooves up and down on the words “intelligence service” to simulate quotation marks. AKA even she thought the term was a stretch at best.

“Let’s just get back to wherever we’re supposed to meet the others at and find out.” I said before Brawny could go on a rant about insubordinate youth or something like that.

I couldn’t see behind his gas mask, but I’ll bet anything that he wanted to kick me, he certainly sounded like it. “Then get your ass to the RHIB ASAP!”

Back aboard the ever-shifting deck of the Patriotic Fire, I felt much better. This was home. While it’s true that the Patriotic Fire was in a class of ships, a Celestia Class ultra heavy ironclad battleship (non standard armament, and patched with wood in places) to be precise, time had made each ship unique, no two ships rust the same, nor are they repaired the same. This was home, there’s no replacing it. The pony standing before us how ever didn’t think so. His face appeared calm, but his legs betrayed him. He was constantly readjusting his stance. To a pony that’s home is a ship, being on any other ship is like being in a twisted parody of their home.

Since there was little interaction between each command segment each segment had developed it’s own accent over the centuries, the visitor spoke with one such accent. “Tis quite a victory you had, yes?” He spoke with what I assumed was a Thermodon accent, I assumed that because the black trip on his collar, signifying that he’s from the Termodon Segment. That’s the other thing that makes segment’s easy to tell apart, each one has a different collar trim, our segment, Xooland (named after the famous zebra explorer, had an orange trim, Thermodon had black, Alpacadonia had red, etcetera etcetera… Thermodonia was where fleet command was located, so this guy’s orders came from… somewhere near the top.

Brwany never liked taking credit, deserving or not, which is probably the reason why in two centuries of service he had never ascended above the rank of corporal. “It was hardly our victory. The ship did most of the work and the marines assaulting the beach-”

“Well now that’s why we want you. Your absence will have negligible impact on Xooland Segment’s security, and regardless of you protests, you did manage to take out two sky tanks with no casualties. Making you perfect for what we have planned.” Fuck we are being reassigned to a new ship. “Now that you now the circumstances surrounding your selection, you should know what you have been selected for. While interrogating one of the survivors we learnt that, those pegasi call themselves “the Enclave”, which is apparently some larger faction from the ruins of the Equestria mainland.  Also we have learned that an Enclave regiment consists of four raptor class cloud ships with full personal and vehicle compliment. Also I’ve read your reports, and it’s called a raptor, not a “Sky Ship”.” Of course a “well learned” bigot is briefing us.

“Hey we didn’t know what it was! Not all of us read rather than fight!” Swordfish exclaimed in response to the mocking tone the stallion added to his last sentence.

“I’ll ignore that… Well, since a Raptor with navigation systems just going off into the middle of the Zebratic Ocean by mistake are highly unlikely. This “isolated event” is obviously part of an Enclave Expeditionary Force dispatched to do… Well command hasn't figured it out yet, but there are probably 3 more raptors scattered throughout our territory and it’s you mission which you have no choice in accepting to hunt them down.” This stallion wanted us to go hunting for giant sky ships, yeah I’ll keep calling them that, in (if Swordfish is right) a corvette?!

Apparently Brawny and I saw I to eye on this idea. “Yes four marines from a back water segment, verses three Raptor class cloud ships with high energy plasma projectors and point defence turrets capable of targeting objects moving at super sonic speeds. How does this idea sound remotely plausible!”

“Well you won’t be doing the fighting, you just find the darn things, and what ever segment your in will take a fleet action to engage the darn thing. Since all you’re doing is tracking, which I know you’re capable of, you’re personal sea taxi is the Corvette “Salvation”. Now, I have an island command to take over, thank you for your time.” He said and exited the room, any grace he had was cancelled out when he tripped in the hall out side the briefing room. Obviously the Patriotic Fire didn’t like it’s guest.

“Gee I sure feel bad for the Zebras of Wind Way! That guy’s an asshole!” I exclaimed once I could no longer her the clanging of his footsteps on the metal floor.

“Who was that guy and what was his rank?!” Swordfish asked angrily, his superiority complex had quite literally ruffled he feathers.

“What do you think he meant by “which I know your capable of”, and why did he look directly at Brawny when he said that?” Signal Fire, who apparently didn’t come to retrieve me because he felt “land sick”, asked.

“I’m right here.” Brawny indignantly grunted.

“So then what did he mean by that?” Swordfish asked sarcastically.

Oddly enough he looked down to his lap before replying. “Never mind, go back to your speculation.”

“Ooh! Did we hit a nerve?” Swordfish asked.

“I think we did.” Signal chuckled.

“That’s enough speculation. Go pack your berths and lockers, then we transfer to our new posts.” Brawny said, preventing any further teasing, prying, or legitimate speculation from happening. Then he left the room rather quickly, something must have rattled him, because he’s always… a different type of asshole.

I got up and proceeded out into the hall, there where some new faces, mostly replacements for those most recently lost pulled from other ships in the command segment, but I also noticed a fair number of ponies with black trimmed collars. Clear skies dam it this is a home invasion, and occupation! Not all of them seemed to be as high and mighty as that guy… seriously why didn’t he give us his name! Frustration threatened to boil over as I reached the room where my bed, and a hoof full of other male marines slept. I walk on over to the foot of my bed, my footlocker’s there, empty. A stark reminder that I was still in the uniform I had put on a week ago expecting a routine day… What had I done with myself this week? Under my bed I had a ruck sac filled with what little personal items I had, and Low Tide’s personal items. My items where mostly just a hoof full of caps, a sparkle cola bottle perfectly rounded into beach glass, some old doodles, a couple of old comics that had been snuck on board during the war, and my personal information papers. Low Tide had a lot more stuff, stuff that was now in my possession, and stuff that for various reasons I have yet to look through (mostly because I was drowning my pity with drink). I put the sack on my back and walked down to the armory to get my kit.

The walk to the armory was better; the weapons masters had barred the visitor’s access to the inner sections of the ship. When I got to the armory a familiar blue pegasus was there to greet me. “So… what do you think of all this?” She asked as she rummaged through her locker, which much like her life, was a bit of a mess.

“We took out a sky ship, with 18-inch artillery. I hardly see how that makes specifically us qualified for this…” I said and pulled my LMG out of my locker and removed 3 of it’s 30 round box mags and it’s 100 round pan magazine.

“Well, the way I see it, there’s something they aren’t telling us, or this is just a publicity thing so they can say that they’re doing something.” She said, and I took my newly repaired helmet and gas mask out of my locker, then closed it one last time.

“Or? This is fleet command we’re talking about,” I put on my helmet, the padding was still worn out, and then pulled the gas mask over my face. “it’s both. Now let’s get a look at the ship we’re spending the next few months on.”

We made our way back up to the deck, the ponies we knew wished us the best of luck, and we completely ignored the Thermodon ponies. On deck I closed my eyes a silently said my good bye to the rocking deck of home. Of to starboard the 77 m long corvette “the Salvation”, looked pretty small, especially compared to the 256 m long Patriotic Fire. However something was off, and I didn’t know what it was.

“It’s…” Swordfish trailed off, apparently as confused as I was.

“New?” A voice from behind us asked. We whirled around to see a yellow earth pony mare, in a captain’s hat, with grey trim on the collar of her unbuttoned officer’s uniform. Grey trim… that means she’s from Galvin Hoof. “Eeyup that’s my ship, ain’t she a beaut? Name’s Captain Shanty, and unless ah am grossly mistaken, I’m your new captain.” She said, with an air of cockiness that the accent didn’t disguise.

I looked behind me. The words “new” and “ship” together, not preceded by the word “not”, was like... blasphemy. All my life I had been told that there weren’t enough resources to make new metal ships, and that the only large ships I would ever see would be rusted out hulks of made or wood, but there it was. No rust, no dents, and no holes. It was new. “H-how?” I stammered out as I whirled around again. Ok, that’s enough turning, starting to get dizzy here.

“Well, Galvin Hoof has enough minerals for ship building to continue on small scale. Since we can’t make large ships, or very many ships, Ah’m not surprised the news hasn’t reached here. However the fact is, we have been producing corvettes, ammunition and smaller vehicles and boats since the Compact Agreement was made.” She replied. Well, I knew they made ammo and RHIBs because anything we got that was made of metal had “product of Galvin Hoof” all over it. Still, that ship… it sparked. That’s not natural…

I would have continued to stare at the ship, and the rather laid back and somewhat slobbish captain, but I heard Signal Fire’s voice coming from the exit on to the deck. “You have got to be kidding me! In the event of your death Swordfish is in charge? SWORDFISH?!”

Brawny’s gritty voice replied with a certain firmness to it that made me think his mind couldn’t be changed. “Rip Tide is a train wreck, and you are an imbecile who thinks the chain of command is for beating those who don’t agree with you. Swordfish at best a has no respect for authority and at worst is a drunk, but she at least has restrain when it comes to positions of power and has actually almost earned a promotion.” Wait, I’m a wreck, and what’s a train? They emerged, and Swordfish’s face wore the sliest, most untrustworthy, creepiest, widest smile in recorded history. Brawny didn’t need to be able to read minds to tell what she was thinking. “Swordfish I have 200 years more combat experience than you, so don’t you even think about it.”

Captain Shanty looked somewhat shocked. “Yeh wouldn’t actually kill him, right?” She asked with a somewhat awkward expression.

“No, of course not.” That was a lie. She had thought about it before, she had tried it before. Oh yes their arguments may not seem like much, but put two polar opposites together long enough and one will try to kill the other, then upon realizing it’s futile return to the status quo. It had happened before, friendly fire here, a poorly thrown grenade there, and then when it fails, back to normal. “Seriously though, I won’t try to kill him for the duration of this mission, because I know this wild seagull chase has actual meaning to some ponies here.” I knew she meant me, but she said ponies, had she, Brawny or Signal lost anyone? Was I that distant over the week that I had never noticed anyone else’s suffering? Or was she guessing it meant something to Brawny because the guy had singled him out. “Now Captain do we have permission to board your vessel?” She asked and all heads turned to Shanty.

Brawny took one look at her and went on a rant. “You are a captain? You’re not even wearing you hat properly? How did you pass your CCFT?” The CCFT (Captain’s Course Final Test) is the last test in the two-week course from fleet command that decides whether a commander is eligible to become a full captain. I had heard that it’s no laughing matter, and stressful to study for.

“With a 98.” She replied.

“What? How no one scores that high, you must have cheated.” Brawny said. Despite the rude accusation, I had to agree with him, no one scores that high.

“Enope, Ah knew everything. I actually put down a few wrongs on purpose just so Ah wouldn’t be accused of cheating. The test is actually not too hard; you fail if you over think it. Since it’s such a big deal most ponies get worked up, lose sleep and think there’s a trick to each question, those who keep calm under this pressure pass. Those that cave fail. Ah’m too laid back to possibly fail such a test.” She said very “matter of fact-ly”. “And don’t ever accuse me of cheat’n ever again, t’is an insult to my honor.”

“I… see, sorry ma’am, won’t happen again. Now permission to board your ship?” Brawny said in the half respectful half resentful tone he uses whenever addressing any commanding officer.

The two stared at each other, Shanty’s calm demeanour was gone, replaced with a steely determination to defend her honor, and I assume that behind his mask Brawny was staring daggers at her. Finally her expression broke and with a sloppy shrug she answered. “Sure why not?” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and the peanut gallery that had gathered to watch all exhaled loudly as well. “Yeah, the RHIB’s just over here.” She said and led us over to the rope ladder that tethered the RHIB to the Patriotic Fire. We proceeded down the ladder and into the small watercraft.

The engine of the RHIB rumbled to life and propelled the craft through the fairly calm water over to where the Salvation had dropped anchor. Once we pulled up beside back half of the corvette, Shanty radioed for her crew members to raise the boat on to the deck. The idea sounded odd, every ship I had scene used a launch and retrieval ramp for this sort of thing. However to my surprise a crane arm was extended over the deck rail, and a cable that split into four smaller cables each ending in a hook was lowered down to us. “Well what are ya wait’n for, there’s four hooks and four loops on the boat, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out!” She said through a mouthful of cable and hooked the end she had to one of the loops to demonstrate. We did as instructed. “All right, Mooncalf raise us!” She yelled up to the deck. At her command we were violently tugged out of the water and up and over to where we hung 4 feet above the deck. “Alright, now Mooncalf, jus set us down gently-” We hit the deck with a mighty crash.  Shanty jumped to her feet, and angrily put her captain’s hat back on top of her red mane. “Mooncalf yeh darn blunder’n idiot! Ah ought ta have you thrown in the brig!” She yelled at the dark blue-coated yellow maned stallion standing at the controls of the crane.

“Ah just don’t know what went wrong, ma’am!” The pony said as Shanty advanced towards him menacingly.

“Oh I have to see how miss “I’m too laid back” handles discipline.” Brawny said as he got up and trotted over to where Shanty was chewing Mooncalf out.

“Urgh… ya… I’ll just stay here…” Signal said as he lay in a heap at the bottom of the RHIB.

“I already know where this mission is going…” Swordfish said as she pulled out her canteen and then took a swig.

The smell that hit my nostrils told me the canteen was filled with her favorite contraband, and I felt the need to hurl. I walked my self over to the railing and rested against it. I felt the boats rocking, since it was in the same water, it was quite similar to the Patriotic Fire’s had been when we had left it. The rocking was disturbed by a bump against the hull. I peered over the rails and found that a 4-foot by 4-foot drift wood raft carrying a single zebra in a conical straw hat. At the risk of reinforcing the stereotype that all unicorns think all Zebras look alike, I asked. “Hey! is that you Xager?”

The zebra looked up at me and waved. “Rip Tide!  Good to see Swordfish got you out of that bar!” He replied happily.

“Thanks! What are you doing?” I yelled down.

“My house was burnt down by rowdy zebras during the post cancelling the apocalypse party.” He shouted up. “So now I’m going to see the world!”

That idea screamed bad to me, especially since I could see the supplies he brought, a bag of coconuts. “Do you even have anything to open those coconuts with?” I asked him.

“Um… no… Can you get me back to the dock?” he asked.

I was going to go inform Brawny of the situation and ask for permission to take him back, when I had an idea. “Hey, you speak Equish well enough, do you know standard zebra?”

“Imo.”

“Southern islander?”

“はい”

“Northern islander?”

“نعم”

“Tribal?”

“да”

“Ancient dialect?”

“sí”

“Tell you what, give me a coconut, and we’ll hire you on as our translator, you can travel the ocean with us.” What I’m hungry, and you would be to if you had recently regurgitated everything you had eaten over the last week.

“Ok!” after his reply two things were thrown at me; a coconut, and a grappling hook. He climbed up the rope and deposited himself on the deck with a thud.

“Rip Tide? Why is there a zebra on deck?” Brawny asked, peeled his attention from the Captain and Mooncalf.

“Oh, I thought we might need a translator for the more obscure islands, and Xager’s house was burnt down so-”

“Oh, ok, Xager saved my life so I can tolerate him and it means I won’t have to speak to any zebras so this is actually pretty good.” Brawny cut me off. Wait… so he’s fine with Xager but he still hates zebras? Fuck his racist logic.

“Meh I’ll take it.” Xager said with a shrug.

“Xager’s here?” Signal Fire asked from the bottom of the RHIB.

“Yeah… Now it’s a party!” Swordfish said with the canteen of alcohol in one hoof.

“SWORDFISH ARE YOU DRUNK?!” Brawny practically exploded.

With a groan she fell backwards and judging from the “Ompfth” sound, landed on Signal Fire. Yeah I could see where this mission was going, and hopefully the first stop we make can provide some course correction.

Foot note: No pip buck, no level up!

New perk: Wild Wasteland

(What? I needed someway to justify the JeremyJahns reference…)

Author’s note:

Yes fuck-all happened action wise this chapter, but not every chapter can have an epic Dreadnought vs Raptor battle

Well it’s the start, of something… Hopefully something good!

I don’t remember if I mentioned this last time but Rip Tide’s LMG is based on the WWII Bren gun not the Fo:NV LMG.

also Recrudescence is a synonym for "return"

oh and theme for the somewhat depressing beginning:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScNNfyq3d_w