Fallout Equestria: Guardian

by Guardsman_Sparky

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Other, Adventure, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 15326

A young unicorn is exiled from his stable into the Equestrian Wastes. What will he do, how will he survive?

When a young unicorn born and raised in Stable 16 is wrongly convicted of murder, he is exiled from his home into the treacherous wasteland that once was Equestria. Unprepared for the harsh realities of the wastes, he must fight for survival. Will he find his purpose and virtue, or will he lose himself to the hell that has become Equestria?

Thanks to Kkat for coming up with the first Fallout: Equestria

Published 2013-07-10 05:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-16 03:10:27 UTC

Memories

My world ended on my eighteenth birthday. Before that, life in Stable sixteen had been boring, but still nice. I had been a bit of a wild child as a colt, terrorizing the adults with my youthful antics. Many was the time I was dragged into the Overmare's office to be chewed out. I still fondly remember the time Thunder Runner and I had rigged the toilets in the atrium to explode with foam when flushed. We were scrubbing the filtration system with our toothbrushes for a week. It took poor Runner another week to fully get the stench out of his feathers. That pegasus always could find things to complain about. Life was good.

Maybe I should explain what a Stable is. Back during the great war, about two hundred years ago, a company called Stabletec constructed huge fallout shelters they called Stables to protect Equestria's population in the event that the unthinkable happened and mega-spells and balefire bombs began to fly. It was hoped that the Stables would never be needed, but unfortunately, soon after the last Stable was complete, the zebras hit Canterlot, Equestria's capitol with a megaspell and Manehattan with a balefire bomb. The war ended then, not because of one side winning, but because there was no longer any armies left to fight it. The Stables worked though, and two hundred years later, here we were.

My Cutie-mark of a stylized lightning bolt meant that I would be apprenticed to the Stable's electrician and general repair-pony. True, my cutie-mark was probably related to my spastic nature and tendency to come up with random ideas and things like a bolt out of the blue (that one prank using my lightning spell may have had something to do with it as well). But, I did have some experience with the electrical systems and general maintenance thanks to the pranks that one Nightmare Night where Thunder and I made the lights flicker and the PA wail eerily. So, it was decided by the Overmare and her board of advisors that making me responsible for repairing any damage I caused with my pranks would make me stop the pranks altogether. Who knows, maybe it would have. I'd never get the chance to find out.

My eighteenth birthday party was held in the Stable's cafeteria, a large room in the center of the multi-level bunker large enough to hold all five-hundred or so residents at once. It was a large affair, for while I wasn't that popular with the adults, many of the foals in Stable sixteen absolutely adored Thunder and myself, and so they had begged with their parents to let them go to the party until the weary ponies said yes. The party went on for hours, long into the night. I was having the time of my life, until I left to use the restrooms.

I heard a scuffling when I entered, coming from one of the stalls. I heard a filly pleading. "Please, no, I don't want to do this, I-"

"Shut up!" The pleading was interrupted by a stallion's gruff voice and a wet slap.

I knew that stallion's voice, and I use the word stallion loosely. Moose was the biggest bully ever to come out of Stable Sixteen''s nursery in its entire two hundred year history by my reckoning. He was the largest and strongest stallion in the Stable, and while I was no pushover in the strength department, I was just a unicorn and he was an earth pony, and he used his natural strength to his advantage. That usually meant beating up smaller and weaker ponies, including me. I was one of his favorite punching bags, and I was never strong enough to do anything about it. What made things worse though, was that he was never held accountable for his actions, the reason being that his mother just happened to be the Overmare. So, Moose went unpunished, and whenever somepony accused Moose of some wrongdoing, they'd find themselves locked up in security overnight for 'wasting the Overmare's valuable time.' It made me sick.

When I heard Moose slap that filly, I forgot myself. I kicked down the stall door and what I saw showed me for the first time just how depraved Moose really was. I saw the massive shit-brown earth stallion standing over a fuschia filly with a sky blue mane who didn't even have her cutie-mark yet. To my horror, I realized that the bastard was getting ready to rape her, a blank flank no older than ten. Moose's long, scraggly mane, the same purple as a nasty bruise, slapped against his neck as he turned his head to see who had interrupted him.

He sneered when he saw me. "Oh. It's you." He said it like he had noticed a radroach crushed underhoof.

I stamped a hoof at him. "Let. Her. Go."

Moose chuckled and waved a hoof in my direction as he turned away from me. "Make me."

"Make me." Those two words held a special place of hatred in my heart. For eighteen years, those two words had mocked me, mocked me and every attempt I made to defend myself and my friends from the bastard of a pony that had just turned his back on me. Eighteen years of silently suffering, knowing that none of the adults would step in to stop him because his mother refused to hear a word spoken against him. Eighteen years of being beaten till I was black and blue. Eighteen years of being verbally assailed. Hearing those words, and knowing what he was about to do, sent me over the edge. "Make me."

I screamed. My horn lit up golden, the same gold as my eyes, my brown mane wavering around it. Sweat bead up, trickling down my dark green fur. I poured everything I had, every injustice, every insult I had ignored, every beating I endured, all of my fury, rage and hatred for this shit in front of me into one massive spell. I had never used it for more than joy buzzing an unsuspecting victim, but I was pissed. With a strangled cry of "HOW'S THIS?," I let loose the biggest lightning spell I had ever cast, right between his black, hating eyes.

It was several moments before I realized what I had done. Moose lay on the tiles of the restroom, smoke curling from the burn on his forehead. I stared in horror at him, the realization dawning on me that I had just killed another living being. The poor filly was curled up, crying as she held her ears, the tears streaming down her face. I could only sit there, staring at the corpse of the deceased bully. I felt no remorse for him though. With what he had been about to do, how could I? I was still sitting there when security arrived.

The next few hours are just a blur in my memories. I remember being arrested by security. I remember that they asked questions. Why I did it, what were you thinking, things like that. I remember Loken Load, the head of security, telling me that he was sorry for what I had been through. It was almost morning when the door to my cell opened. I looked up to find my brother, Lightning Blitz, staring at me. He looked scared, which scared me, because in the ten years he had been in security, that pegasus had never looked scared.

"Blitz, what's wrong?"

Blitz looked at me. "The Overmare has lost her mind. She had your trial last night."

I was shocked. "But, I wasn't even there, they didn't even hear what I had to say."

"I know. They didn't even call the filly you say Moose was trying to rape in to speak. They found you guilty. Sparky, they sentenced you to death at noon."

"What?"

Blitz opened the door to the security wing. "Come on, we need to get you to our quarters. Follow quickly and stay quiet. If anypony asks, I'm taking you to say your last goodbyes."

The goodbyes to my friends and family were the hardest thing I have ever done. Thunder took it poorly, his black wings drooping to drag on the floor, his blacker than black mane messier than usual. He didn't say a word, just giving me a book on safecracking and leaving. He was trying hard not to show it, but I could still see the tears in his eyes. Some of the other ponies that knew me gave me a few words of encouragement, wishing me luck in my travels, before they too left. Soon, I was alone with my parents and my brother. Blue Screen, my father and the Stable's resident computer technician, presented me with my PipBuck, a small leg-mounted computer that monitored health, inventory, and received radio, amongst other things. It felt good to have it on my left foreleg again, it having been removed when I was arrested. My father unlocked some of the more advanced functions on my PipBuck, before carefully explaining how to use each one.

"Spark Chaser." He used my full name. He never used my full name. "Promise you'll make me proud." I nodded.

Saving Grace, my mother and Stable Sixteen's head teacher, tearfully presented me with a set of saddlebags, a pair that she had enchanted herself to be self repairing and to be bigger on the inside. "You have your toothbrush packed, right?" "Yes mom." She gave me a long hug, sobbing quietly into my fur before stepping back with my father.

My older brother stood before me for what seemed to be eons. Already a sergeant in security, Lightning Blitz was the fastest officer on the force. Being a pegasus, he was also the black sheep of the family. After staring at me for the longest time, he dropped a black duffel at my hooves. I was surprised when he embraced me in a hug. My brother was never very touchy-feely, so getting him to hug you was momentous. We held each other for as long as we could. "Sparky." He used his pet name for me. "I managed to get you some old riot armor, a ten-mil and some ammo. There's also a book on how to use and care for your weapons in there. I also managed to talk Cookie into giving me twenty bags of apple jerky. I know how much you love those."

I nodded weakly, not trusting my voice not to crack. We embraced for a little longer, before releasing each other. I sniffled, earning a smile from my father. "Chin up, now. You've got a whole new world ahead of you, so don't you ever look back. Y'hear?" I nodded. My mother embraced me, and soon, my father and brother joined in to our group hug. We stayed that way until Blitz broke the silence.

"Okay, Sparky, let's get you out of here."

We had almost made it to the Stable door when a red light began to strobe above. A loud, pulsating wail grated against our senses. The Overmare's voice sounded over the PA.

"Alert. Prisoner Spark Chaser has escaped captivity. He is to be considered extremely dangerous, and is to be put down immediately upon contact. Lethal force has been authorized."

"Shit." Blitz looked at me. "I was hoping we'd have more time. Look, Sparky, we're going to try to get things to calm down, get the Overmare to see reason again. Until then, You need to leave the Stable, for your safety and ours. Do you remember our all-clear code from when you were a colt?" I nodded. "Good. Here." He input something into his PipBuck, causing my PipBuck to bleap in response. "I sent you a radio frequency. Listen to that every day. When everything is safe, I'll send you the all clear, okay?" I nodded again. "Good."

The sound of guards approaching drew a curse from my brother. "Shit. Sparky, go that way, the Stable door is down there. The code to get it open is 'butterscotch.'" He dashed off to distract the guards, leaving me to head for the Stable door and freedom. I reached the antechamber, and galloped over to the control box. I input the code and watched the door open slowly with a creak. Suddenly, a voice rung out behind me.

"Leaving so soon?"

My blood froze. I knew that voice, just as I knew Moose's. However, where Moose's filled me with hate and loathing, this voice filled me with gut-wrenching fear. I slowly turned around to see Iron Discipline, Moose's brother and by far the worse of the two. Where Moose would hurt you to get what he wanted, Discipline would hurt you just to get a cheap laugh. I backed away towards the door as the massive unicorn pony, even larger than his brother had been, towered above me.

"You're not going anywhere." He charged his horn for a shackles and magic retardant spell. Panicking, I blasted Discipline with the same spell I had used on his brother. Roaring in anger, he crashed to the floor as the electricity set his nerves on fire, screwing his nervous system eight ways to hell. I took the opportunity to run out the Stable door and hit the red emergency close button.

Level Up!
New Perk: Lightning Strikes - Your lightning spell now does +10% damage.

Chapter One: First Fight

Chapter One: First Fight

All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing.

I stared at the closed door of Stable Sixteen for the longest time before I turned away to look at my surroundings. It was dark, the only light coming from two emergency lights on either side of the Stable door, bathing the immediate area in a sickly orange glow. It seemed that the floors and walls were made of dirt, the ceilings held up by wooden beams. I ran a hoof over one, remembering the small orchard of Sixteen that Thunder and I knew every inch of. I somehow doubted that I'd see trees ever again.

I opened the duffel given to me by Blitz. True to his word, inside was a set of worn riot barding. It took me awhile to figure out all the straps and fastenings, but I got it on. It fit well, it didn't even need to be adjusted, well, okay, the middle over my gut could stand to be let out a bit. Other than that, Blitz had chosen my new barding well. I picked up the helmet, sliding it on over my horn. I suppose most ponies would find such a weight on their heads uncomfortable, but me, I found it...reassuring. I flipped up the hinged visor to see better. I floated out the next item in the duffel.

When Blitz had told me that he had put a ten-mil in my bag, I was expecting a pistol, not...this. Floating before me was my brother's custom-made ten-millimeter submachinegun. He called it Krieger, old Germane for warrior. I read the note stuck to the side of it.

Bro,

I know what you're thinking. But you need this more than I do. I know you'd never would have accepted Krieger had I told you what I was giving you, but if I couldn't be there to protect you, I wanted a part of me there to help you protect yourself. Don't worry though, I'll make do with my standard issue until I can make a new one. Take care of yourself, and remember to keep your head down.

Blitz

I put the note in my saddlebags, fighting to keep my emotions from welling over. I focused on Krieger. Blitz had built this gun from scratch and spare parts. He told me once what gun each piece was from, but I cannot for the life of me remember any of it. I racked the slide like Blitz had taught me, checking the firing chamber for fouling and obstructions. Satisfied that it was clean, I slid home a 32-round magazine and checked the safety. I put the safed gun in its special holster and fastened it on the back of my barding where I could quickly slide it out and bring it to bear. I practiced that a few times before I was satisfied with the action, adjusting the holster a little to make it easier. I returned my attention to the duffel at my hooves.

I pulled out twenty five-ounce bags of apple jerky, dried and seasoned strips of apple that I absolutely adored. I carefully put those in my saddlebags. I floated out the rest of the ammo clips and counting five, I slid them into the bags after the apple jerky, trying to do the math in my head to figure out how many shots that was. It was therefore to my chagrin that I remembered that the PipBuck had an inventorying spell that instantly told me that I had 160 rounds, not including the 32 already loaded in Krieger. The rest of the duffel's contents consisted of basic survival necessities, like food, water, and basic medical supplies. I put all of those into my saddlebags, then added the duffel as an afterthought. Maybe I could sell it or something somewhere. I gave one last look at the locked door to Stable Sixteen, before taking my first steps into the tunnel leading away from my home.

The musty tunnel seemed to go on forever. I suppose it was part of an old mining complex or something, because several times I came across broken and rusted rails in the dirt and rock floors. My supposition that it was a mine was proven correct when I found an overturned minecart with an unlocked metal box inside. I pulled out several red sticks with white caps labelled "Dynamite." I looked at the instructions written on the inside of the lid, giggling nervously as I realized what I had found. Gingerly, I put the explosives in my bags, hoping that they wouldn't go off and turn me into an ex-pony.

I eventually came to the end of the tunnel, with bright shafts of light pouring in from between the slats of wood covering the mine entrance. I checked my Eyes Forward Sparkle, a spell in the PipBuck that was a compass, motion detector and Heads Up Display all in one. The motion detector came up empty, aside from a pair of tiny red dots off to the south. As I removed the boards from the mine entrance, the shafts of sunlight disappeared. Seeing that my E.F.S. came up empty, with those two red dots still very far off, I pulled the last of the boards away, revealing the outside world for the first time.

The outside world was not what I was expecting. I had--actually I don't know what I was expecting, but the wasteland was not it. There was ruin wherever I looked. A shattered highway led to Celestia knows where, lined with stained and burnt billboards that only She knew what they said. The charred and dead remains of rotted trees dotted the sides of the highway and the rest of the landscape. The ground was brown and dead, the few strands of grass that was left looking very unappetizing. I looked up to find that the sky was covered in a grey pallor, clouds blocking out the sun save for a small open spot directly above. It closed up as I watched though, leaving me alone in the shaded wastes. I stared out at the land that lay ahead of me. A sign caught my eye, one that was still legible. 'Springvale, 20 miles.' Not knowing what else to do, I started walking.

I eventually became aware of a soft clicking. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from, until I lifted up my left leg. It was my PipBuck. Huh. I did not know it could do that. What did that little dial that was climbing into the yellow mean? I looked through the PipBuck's tutorial program. Apparently, the PipBuck had something called a geiger counter that measured the amount of magical radiation in the air. It said that when the needle was in the green, everything was normal, and yellow meant that there was radiation present, orange was enough to make you uncomfortable or sick, but red, red meant that you were in serious trouble. Since the dial was just barely out of the green zone, I was still good. So green was clean, yellow is mellow, red was dead. Simple enough, I suppose.

The sun was setting by the time I reached Springvale. What was left of it anyways. Balefire bombs and two hundred years of decay had not been kind to the small town. My PipBuck lit up with a notification that I had arrived in Springvale. A bit late on the uptake, but at least the name hadn't changed over the years. I sat for a moment to catch my breath. My legs felt like wet noodles. I may have been strong for a unicorn, but I was also slightly chubby and out of shape. All that walking had really drained me. I floated my helmet off and rubbed my forehead with one of my hooves, ears flat against my skull. I had developed a nasty headache several miles back, and it was getting worse. A distant rumble caused my ears to perk up. I couldn't place that sound. I was racking my brains to try and remember what it was when I saw a flicker of light bolt from the sky. A few seconds later, I had my answer. Thunder. Judging by the way the wind was blowing, Springvale was due for a doozy of a storm. And soon.

I shoved my helmet back on as I scurried to the nearest intact building, the wind starting to pick up. The first fat drops of rain were hitting the dusty ground as I opened the door. I found myself in a small two-story home that had not been lived in for some time. Something clattered across the floor as I took a step. I looked down at the round beige object that I had just kicked. Curious, I picked it up and turned on the PipBuck's lamp function. I dropped the pony skull in horror. I watched it roll across the floor until it came to rest on something just outside the circle of light provided by my PipBuck. My mouth was dry as I took a tentative step forward. Slowly, inexorably, the pile of decaying bodies came into view. This wasn't a house. It was an abattoir. I am not ashamed to admit that I screamed.

"YAAAARGH!"

I dashed out of the bloody building into the deluge of the storm. I stood there, shaking at what I had seen. Some of those bodies had been fresh, meat still rotting away from their bones. The rain soaked into my riot armor and ran down my visor as I stood there in the middle of the muddy street, staring at the den of death that I had just emerged from. My head was quickly the only dry part of me. Lightning flashed overhead, the thunder deafeningly loud, like two stable doors bashing together. And yet, I could not look away from the unassuming structure in front of me.

"I 'eard it come from over 'ere."

A harsh, wheezing voice broke me from my stupor. It sounded close. I ran into an alley, pressing myself against the wall. Two ponies wearing cruelly spiked armor came into view. One of them, a unicorn with a ragged, patchy red hide and ratty orange mane seemed to be in charge, a cutie mark of a barbed-wire crown seeming to support that hypothesis. Her companion, a puke-green earth pony stallion with a snot-yellow mane and a cutie-mark of a vomiting yellow daisy cowered behind her. As I eavesdropped on their bickering, I wondered what in Equestria could a pony do or be good at to get a cutie-mark of a puking flower.

"I told you Barbi, I heard somepony screamin' over 'ere."

The mare slapped the stallion upside the head. "How many times I got's ta tell ya? My name's Barbedwire, not Barbi, Pukey."

The stallion cringed visibly as the smaller mare berated him. "Yes, Barbedwire, but I'm sure I heard somepony screamin'."

A strange sound carried through the storm. As a hovering metal ball the size of a pony's head floated into view, I realized what I was hearing was music, polka music no less. Upon hearing the trombone and accordion heavy music and seeing the floating ball of noise, Barbedwire smacked Pukey upside the head again.

"You idjit, it's jus' one of them damned sprite-bots." She turned back the way they came. "C'mon, I want to get back before all the gooduns 're taken."

"What we gonna do when their parents pay up?"

"We kill 'em and keep the kids fer ourselves."

"Tha's bril-, bril-, brili-, real smart."

"Isn't it?"

"Yes, Barbi." *SLAP!* "Ow!"

"Idjit."

I couldn't believe my ears. These things (I hesitate to call them ponies) had foalnapped children and were holding them for ransom. Not only that, but they were planning to kill the parents once they got the ransom and enslave the foals. Those bastards! Well, that wasn't going to happen, not if I could help it. I followed the bickering slavers.

Barbedwire and Pukey led me straight to an old, decrepit monolithic structure with a sign that read 'SPRINGVALE ELEMENTARY.' At least, I think that's what the sign said, because several letters were missing. The sick irony of keeping children captive in a school was not lost on me. I watched the pair of slavers enter the building through the front doors, nodding to the heavily armed guards on either side. Their armor seemed to be of poor quality and their weapons didn't seem to be in much better condition. Any notions that I could take them on easily were dashed as a bolt of lightning illuminated the school building. In those brief moments of light, I could see several ponies patrolling on the roof. I quickly realized that a frontal assault was tantamount to suicide.

I circled the building, looking for a way in. My efforts were rewarded when I pulled aside a dead bush leaning against the south wall of the school. There, at the base of the wall, was a crack just large enough for a pony in armor to squeeze through. I crawled through, dreading what would happen if I got stuck. Fortunately, I managed to squeeze through by sucking in my gut. It was with a sigh of relief that I found myself in the musty confines of a utility closet. I pulled out Krieger, flipping off the safety as I did so. Holding my brother's gun at the ready, I opened the door quietly as I could. I cringed as the rusty hinges screeched. I listened for sounds of slavers coming to fill me with lead, but nothing happened. As I released my held breath, I realized that my headache was gone. Idly wondering when that had happened, I made my way down the hall. Turning the corner, I discovered that the center of the school had collapsed in on itself, leaving a large amphitheater shaped hole in the building. The rain was pouring into the building through the missing roof. I could see the children in a open barred cage in the middle of the depression, huddling together for warmth in the chilling rain.

Another flash of lightning revealed more guards on the roof, reminding me of the ponies up there. What to do, what to do. I realized that I needed to take out the ponies on the roof, take the high ground as Blitz would say. I turned around and headed back into the intact portions of the school to find a set of stairs. Finding the stairs, I started climbing up. Turning a corner as a bolt of lightning struck nearby, I found myself face to face with a slaver. As the thunder rumbled, I instinctively entered S.A.T.S., the PipBuck's Stabletec Arcane Targeting System, the world slowing to a crawl as I targeted the slaver's head. I toggled several shots into his head, and exited S.A.T.S. I stared in morbid fascination as a single burst of fire from Krieger blew the slaver's head clean off, and I don't mean his head turned to mush, oh no. I mean his head took a few rounds and popped off his body like a cork from a bottle, completely intact. How in Celestia's name did that happen?

I popped back into S.A.T.S., but the system did not detect any hostiles nearby, nor did my E.F.S. I sighed in relief as I realized the thunder had drowned out the sound of Krieger firing. I made a mental note to make sure I waited for thunder before firing the submachine gun again. I began to search the body. All he had was junk, save for a few shotgun shells and a wickedly serrated knife with a razor's edge. I also found what appeared to be drug vials. I debated taking them with me, but decided not to, on account of I didn't want to get in trouble with whatever drug laws existed out here. Leaving the body stuffed in an empty locker on the third floor, I strapped the knife onto my right foreleg where I could take it out swiftly and slotted the shotgun shells into the loops on my barding. I continued up the stairs, Krieger still out in front of me. I realized that I had no qualms about shooting that slaver, however bizarre his death was. I suppose after killing a bully like Moose, putting down a pony that sold their own kind into servitude was nothing. I came to the top of the stairs and the door to the roof. I nudged the door open slightly, thanking Celestia and Luna profusely when the hinges didn't squeak.

I found myself viewing the roof in its entirety, able to see each and every pony standing guard up here. I regarded Krieger in thought as I stared into the driving deluge. I couldn't use Krieger up here without getting drawn into a firefight and I somehow knew that if that happened, I wouldn't be walking away from this place alive. I put Krieger away as I tried to think. A sudden bolt of lightning striking in the distance struck me with inspiration. The storm was at its zenith, so why not blast the sentries with lightning spells. I began to concentrate, never before having attempted to zap so many targets at once.

Contrary to most ponies' thinking, casting a lightning spell is relatively easy, certainly easier than teleportation or memory magic. All one has to do is first positively charge your target before negatively charging your horn. Once the two charges reach a certain threshold, an electrostatic discharge will leap from your horn to your target. In other words, lightning. As I began charging up my targets with positive ions, I found myself wondering if I could generate enough negative ions to incapacitate each one of the guards. Fortunately for me, I had completely discounted the fact that in nature, without pegasi, natural lightning works the same way. The world exploded in a blast of blinding light and deafening sound as the clouds above burst with lightning. As the roof sentries danced in a macabre fashion, a tendril of lightning snapped through the door and into my horn, throwing me down the stairs with a bang. Had I not been charging my horn with negative ions, I am certain I would have been killed. As it was, I found myself twitching in pain as my nervous system misfired.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I managed to haul myself to my hooves as pins and needles crawled over my hide. I crawled up the stairs and peeked out the door. The smell of wet, cooked flesh made my eyes water as I beheld the results of my spell's slight misfire. Each one of the dozen guards were lying on the rooftop, smoke curling from their twitching bodies as the rain poured down. I limped over to the closest body and began looting. While the lightning had killed the guards quickly and inconspicuously, the hot plasma had fused most of their stuff into useless lumps of metal or burnt fabrics. Most of the ammo was also useless, having fired off or exploded under the intense heat of the strike, but I found a hoofful of rifle rounds that I figured I could sell somewhere.

Finishing with my looting, I began to circle the massive crater in the roof. Thanks to the collapse of the school's core, there was only one way into the depression from the intact portions of the building, making it easier to guard captives I supposed, but it also made it easier to defend from attackers. Unfortunately, the collapse had also left several open gaps along the upper two floors, allowing for fire to be poured down on the remains of the room holding the caged foals. A shout from below preceded a hail of bullets that drove me from the edge of the precipice. Enraged yelling told me that I was soon going to have company. Apparently, my lightning attack had been more conspicuous than I had hoped.

I galloped over to the door down into the school when it slammed open. I blew the slaver's face apart with a burst from Krieger, sending the body crashing down into her comrades. I slammed the door shut. Pulling out a stick of dynamite, I quickly jammed it against the wall so that opening the door would set off the fuse. I galloped away as fast as I could.

BOOM!

The stick of dynamite detonated as a unicorn crashed through the door, the explosion shredding the mare and destroying the way down. I picked myself up from where the shockwave had tossed me and found that the stairs below the door had collapsed. So much for the way down. A shot pinged against the tarmac of the roof. Activating S.A.T.S., I found that the shot had come from a group of four ponies across the crater in the roof, having used a collapsed slab of concrete as a makeshift ramp to get up there. Seeing that I only had a 5% chance of hitting anything from here, I exited S.A.T.S. and hunkered down behind a pile of bricks. I waited for the group to get closer before flicking the cap from another stick of dynamite and magically tossing it towards them using S.A.T.S. At first, I thought that my throw had come up short, until an orange, slightly cross-eyed earth pony with a tombstone cutie-mark dashed up and snagged it in his mouth. He turned to his partners and tried to mumble something to them.

"Hee, grrs, R grt rt!"

KABOOM!

The dynamite exploded, sending chunks of possibly retarded pony raining everywhere, mixing with the stuff already falling from the sky. Ew. The raining pony's pals were livid.

"Holy shit! He killed Kidney Puncher!"

"THAT BASTARD!"

"GET 'IM!"

I quickly entered S.A.T.S. as the trio charged me with sharpened shovels and knives, apparently forgetting that they had guns. I toggled several headshots and exited the targeting spell. The fat one was the first to die, the bullets riddling his corpulent red hide, his friends following shortly. I dropped the empty mag from Krieger and slapped in a new one. When nothing happened, I checked my E.F.S., and to my surprise, there were no red dots visible anywhere. I deduced that I must have killed most of the slavers with the dynamite.

I searched the fresh bodies on the roof, the rain washing their blood away. One of them, an orange unicorn with a green mane and a wierd six-pointed star cutie-mark had an assault rifle of decent quality, according to my PipBuck at least. The other one, a brown, blue-maned earth pony with a gaping hole through both cutie-marks, had a revolver of iffy quality, but I took it anyways. I got quite the surprise when I searched the fat red earth pony's body though. He was practically swimming in fatty snack foods. I mean, how the hell did he carry all of this in his barding? There was enough there to feed me for a week! A week! Maybe even two! As I put away the last bag of sugar bombs (I could just feel the cavities forming as I read the nutrition label) I found something else of interest on his person. It was a weird half-moon shaped doodad that looked like it connected to something. Putting it in my saddlebags, my PipBuck announced that it was a StealthBuck. Sounded cool, but I had no idea what that meant.

I carefully made my way down the wet concrete ramp down to the caged foals, keeping an eye on my E.F.S. all the while. I approached the cage, noting that the foals inside looked hungry and scared. There were six of them, one earth pony colt, two earth pony fillies, two unicorns colts, and a pegasus filly. They huddled together in fright as I approached.

I held out a hoof to show them I meant no harm. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" I floated out some of the food I had looted from Fatty through the bars. "Here, you guys look hungry." As the foals tore into the food, I examined the padlock on the door. "So, where're you guys from?" I tugged at the lock.

One of the earth pony fillies looked up from her sugar bombs and cleared her throat. "We're from Driftwood."

One of the colts, a green unicorn with a pointed cowlick in his mane that stood straight up, hissed at her. "Sunny, shh! Don't tell him where we're from!"

"Well, why not?"

"He might try to hurt them there."

"He wouldn't." Sunny turned to me. "You wouldn't, would you mister?" I shook my head as I started trying to force the lock. I would have picked it, something I'd picked up while pranking in Stable Sixteen, but I didn't have a screwdriver or bobby pins to do so. Sunny turned back to the green unicorn colt. "'Sides 'Falfa, why would he give us food and get us out if he was a bad guy?"

Alfalfa, I think that's what his full name was, didn't have an answer to that.

I yanked on the padlock, trying to break it. It held. The chain, however, did not, snapping in two places. Guess that saying about weak links was true.

I spent the next several hours herding cats. That's what keeping those foals out of trouble felt like anyways. They kept trying to play with my guns, and dammit, that was really dangerous. They kept wandering off, poking at things that my PipBuck warned were highly radioactive, and were just generally being kids. Don't get me wrong, I love kids, they love me, but I am not ready to take care of more than one kid on my own at a time. I am no Supermare. There is just only so much I can do. It was therefore to my great relief when we finally arrived at the gates of a wooden wall as my PipBuck pinged that I had found 'Driftwood.'

"Halt!"

A red dot on my muzzle made me cross my eyes momentarily. Looking up, I saw an earth pony mare aiming a very large rifle with a very large scope at me, a little thin beam of light playing out of it onto my muzzle. I sighed in exhaustion.

"I brought your foals back. Can I come in."

I almost facehoofed. That wasn't what I had meant to say at all. Sweet Celestia and Luna but I was tired. Thankfully, the gates opened to me. The foals were quickly taken off my hooves and taken home by the guards to their joyful parents, and the guard who had challenged me tried to ask me some questions that I didn't really hear. I waved a hoof at her.

"Look, I am very sorry, but I just fought off a veritable army of slavers and had to foalsit your lovely town's lovely and wonderful children for several hours, so needless to say, I am very, very tired and would just like to go to bed. Is there any way we can just talk in the morning after I get some sleep?"

The guard chuckled. "Yeah, those kids are a handful. I don't blame ya. Come on, I'll take you over to Granny Goody's Bed and Breakfast. I'm sure she has a room available."

I murmured my thanks as the sentry led the way.

Level Up.
New Perk: Thunderstruck - You were struck by lightning and survived. Electrical based attacks aren't quite as effective on you anymore. +50% damage resistance when hit by electrical based attacks.

Author's Note

I actually had the head rolling on the ground thing happen to me in Fallout 3. First raider I killed in fact. Damndest thing I ever saw.

Chapter Two: Running

"Running away will never make you free."

"Breakfast Sweetie, time to get up."

A raspy but gentle voice roused me from the slightly disturbing dreams I had been having about exploding ponies. I opened my eyes to find something just as horrible hovering over me.

"YEAAGH!"

I recoiled from the corpse that somepony had propped up next to my bed as some sort of sick joke. In my sudden terror, I jumped up on the end of the bed, sending it vertical and catapulting me to the floor in a tangle of sheets and mattress.

"Oh dear, let me help you."

I looked up in horror as the corpse spoke and moved. As it bit down on the sheets, I squeaked, and promptly passed out in terror.

A terrible smell awoke me from my stupor. I opened my eyes as they tried to uncross themselves. I found myself staring into the faces of the guard from the previous night and the zombie pony. I'd like to say that I bravely fought off the zompony and singlehoofedly saved the town of Driftwood from a zombie apocalypse. Unfortunately, I cannot. Instead, I did something really, really stupid.

"Pleasedon'teatme. I taste terrible."

The walking corpse giggled. Giggled, shaking its head before smiling kindly at me.

"Oh, doncha worry none 'bout that, I'm not that far gone yet." Wait, yet? Somehow that didn't do much to reassure me. The guardpony poked the zompony in the side.

"Uh, Granny, I don't think you're helping."

"I can see that. I'm not blind, doncha know?"

"Look, just get breakfast ready, I'll explain things to him."

"Now doncha go wanderin' off now." The corpse that had been named Granny waved what used to be a hoof at me before traipsing through the bedroom door. The guard, a mottled green and grey unicorn with a dark green mane shook her head. She ran a hoof through her mane. "Yeah, sorry about that. Yer from a Stable, aren'tcha?"

I nodded. "Yeah, how did you know?"

The mare giggled. "I kinda figured from the way you'd never seen a ghoul pony before. That, and your armor is practically brand new."

I frowned at the mare. "Ghoul pony?"

"Uh huh. Yeah, back when the bombs fell, it left a lot of magical radiation in the air and in all sortsa shit. And a lot of ponies were caught out in it. For some reason, the radiation didn't kill some of the ponies, and it just turned 'em inta walkin' corpses. A lot of 'em went crazy, they're the ones you gotsta look out for. But some have been around since the end of the war, and haven't lost it yet."

I motioned to the door the ghoul had left through. "She was alive during the war?" I could hardly believe that anypony could have survived the hell that was brought down by the megaspells and balefire. The mare shook her head no though.

"Naw, Granny Goody's been around for only about a hundred years now. Became a ghoul when she hid from a pack of bloodwings in a radiation soaked crater. Well, so she says. She's really quite nice."

"I see." Oh great, now I felt like an ass for freaking out before. I suddenly realized that I didn't know the name of the mare standing in front of me. "I'm Spark Chaser, by the way. But everyone I know just calls me Sparky."

"Oh, sorry, I'm Mountain Dew. Can you believe my parents named me after their favorite moonshine?"

"Really? Why'd they do that?"

"Dunno. Never got to ask."

"Why not?"

"They got cornered by hellhounds about a year after I was born."

"Oh." Shit. "I'm sorry."

Dew waved a hoof. "Nah, it's okay. They went out with a bang. Heard they took out quite a few while they were at it. Still, you have no idea how happy I was when I got my cutie-mark and it wasn't alcohol related."

I looked at her cutie-mark, a red cross that was broken in half by a speeding bullet. "What's it mean?"

She grinned at me, a wide, toothy thing. "It means I'm just as good at taking 'em apart as I am putting them back together." She nudged my flank. "How 'bout yours?"

"I am very spontaneous. I just get ideas from nowhere."

"I see. Well comeon, let's get you properly introduced to Granny."

"Yeah, alright. Ooh." I groaned in discomfort as I realized how stiff and sore I was. Dew tilted her head as I tried to stretch. "Sore?" I nodded. At least that didn't hurt. "I'm not surprised. Take a look at your armor." She floated over a portion of my armor that lay in a heap in the corner. My eyes widened as I saw the extensive gunfire damage the ballistic plates had sustained. I hadn't felt any of those hitting me during the fight at the school. But boy was I feeling it now. I quickly gave myself a once over to look for bullet wounds, but thankfully I came up negative. I mentally thanked Blitz for the armor. Strangely though, while the rest of the armor was torn up and battered, the helmet was unscathed, not even a scratch marring the matte-black finish. I shuffled that tidbit away to think about later as I gave up trying to work out the kinks in my joints and hobbled for the door. "Well, guess it's time to meet Granny, huh?"

Granny Goody was quite kind, and told me to not to worry about it when I apologized for my reaction to seeing her earlier. "Oh, doncha get yer tail in a bunch now. I've had much worse reactions from ponies, doncha know? Least-wise you didn't try to shoot me, eh?" I soon found myself sipping from a steaming mug of tea. "This should get rid of those pesky kinks in your joints, doncha know?" To my pleasant surprise, I could indeed feel the tension in my body melting away. I sighed in contentment as Dew turned on a radio. The radio played the tail end of an unfamiliar song. A bombastic voice replaced the music.

"Yo yo yo, DJ Nite here, how's it going Baltimare? News out of New Apploosa. That Stable Dweller my colleague DJ Pon-3's always going on about has done it again! This time, the little mare raided the slaver town of old Apploosa, taking on the entire town of slavers to save every last slave there. Reports say she took out not just one of the so-called 'goddesses,' but two! That little unicorn took out the first one by dropping a freight car on it. But that isn't the end of this story, oh no. The Stable Dweller then flew the train off a cliff, and lived. Damn. I don't think anything can slow that mare down." There was a small cough and a shuffling of papers. "But that ain't the news of the day, folks! Baltimare's got her own Guardian Angel now! This guy walks out of nowhere and completely takes out the slaver den at the old Springvale Elementary. The icing on the cake though, comes when this guy frees the foals taken for ransom by the slavers and takes them back home to the little town of Driftwood. Right on guy, right on! Expecting more great things from ya dude! This is DJ Nite, and that's all for the morning news. Oh, before I forget, the weather ponies have called for more rain from the east off the coast, so expect to get wet tonight. DJ Nite, signing off!"

I stared at the radio as a twangy song about happiness and sunshine started playing. I took a sip from my mug, sighing as the tan liquid worked its magics on my aches and pains. I shook out my mane as I thought about the radio broadcast. "Stable Dweller, huh? Good to know Stable Sixteen's not the only one that survived. So, what's a goddess? Sounded like taking even one out's a big deal."

Dew shook her head. "You'll know 'em when you see 'em. Just remember, if you do see one, run. Trying to fight one is a death wish. Nothing short of a hellhound's claws or balefire eggs can get through their shields." Huh. Ominous. I really hoped I wouldn't run into a 'goddess' or one of those hellhounds ponies kept mentioning. I went to take a sip of tea, but stopped just short of my mouth when I saw the looks of incredulity on Dew's and Granny's faces. "What?"

Dew opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "So how 'bout that 'Guardian Angel' the DJ was talking about?"

I shrugged. "Sounds like a decent guy."

Dew gave me a long, measured look before burying her hoof in her face. "He was talking about you."

"He-wha?" I stared at Mountain Dew, but she was dead serious. "Really?"

"Well, yeah, how many other ponies came out of nowhere and rescued a bunch of foals from slavers last night?"

"Oh...right." Well, now I felt really stupid and embarrassed.

"Well, let's go." Dew stood up from the table.

"Um, where?"

"The mayor wants a word with you." She leaned close and whispered into my ear. "By the way, I think your horn is cute. The white really brings out your eyes." Wait, what?

"Okay, just let me, uh, wash my face first." I didn't really need to wash my face, I just needed to see what Mountain was talking about.

I went up to the room that was temporarily mine. I entered the bathroom and looked into the broken mirror hanging above the sink. I looked at my horn, and found that the top inch or so had turned purest white where the lightning had struck it the night before. I gently poked and prodded at my horn, before tentatively trying a spell. My horn lit up, sending a spray of pigments into the sink. Okay, so I could still use the spray-paint spell. Least I wouldn't be getting lost in any mazes anytime soon. I left the bathroom and considered my armor. After some thought, I decided to put it on, because I was in a strange and hostile place, and though the locals seemed friendly, their neighbors may not be so nice. Finishing with the armor, I strapped on Krieger and my new knife. Plopping my helmet onto my head, I made my way back downstairs. Dew whistled. "Lookin' good, handsome."

I blushed behind the visor to my helmet. "Uh, thanks." Was it getting hot in here? "So, let's, uh, let's go meet the mayor shall we?"

I followed MD out the door, Granny Goody's voice following me. "Y'all are welcome to come back anytime, doncha know?"

As I followed Dew down the street of Driftwood, I noted how well preserved the buildings seemed to be. I sniffed the air, noticing a slightly salty quality to the air. However, my inquisitive nature was soon overshadowed as I became aware of all the ponies staring and pointing at me. All the attention made me uncomfortable, I'm not sure why though. After what felt like an eternity of being stared at by everypony and their uncle, Dew came to a stop in front of a rather unassuming two-story structure. She pointed at the front door. "We're here."

"We are? I was expecting something a bit more...mayory."

Dew giggled. "Naw, Mayor Lonestar doesn't go fer that sorta thing. He likes simplicity, really down to earth that guy." Dew knocked and opened the door to the home, leading me inside. Once inside, she led me to a small, cozy study. The walls were covered in bookshelves and cabinets, full of knowledge and records. A massive desk occupied the center of the room, and sitting behind it was the oldest pony I had ever seen. Well, not really old, but he had an air of wisdom around him, one that said he had seen it all. His fur was the color of wet slate, his mane and tail a salt and pepper grey, with bushy eyebrows and mustache to match framing his wrinkled brown eyes. His cutie mark depicted a pair of crossed revolvers, cocked and ready to fire. I could not tell if he was an earth pony or a unicorn, for he wore a light grey stetson that was as old as he was, as was the faded red bandanna around his neck. When he spoke, it was with a slow drawl, as if every word that came from his mouth had great weight. "So, you're the Guardian Angel that brought home our young'uns." He extended a hoof. "My name is Colt Lonestar. I am the mayor and elected sheriff of the town of Driftwood."

I took the hoof in mine and shook it. "My name is Spark Chaser, sir, but please, call me Sparky. It's an honor to meet you."

Lonestar smiled warmly. "Thanks, but I ain't no 'sir.' Just Colt or sheriff will do. I can't thank you enough for rescuing those foals yesterday. I doubt the slavers had any intentions of honoring their promises."

I shook my head. "No, sir-er, Sheriff. I heard a pair of them say they wouldn't."

"Well, then, my thanks are doubled. Feel free to stay in Driftwood as long as you like, son." Colt pulled a bag out of a drawer and laid it on the desk. "This was to be the ransom for the young'uns. But, seeing as it was you that brought 'em home, it seems only right that you receive it instead."

I opened the bag to find that it was full of old bottlecaps. I looked up at Sheriff Lonestar. "Bottlecaps?"

Colt nodded. "It's what's used for currency out here in the wasteland. Don't bother askin' me why, I never got a straight answer out of anypony either. There's one thousand bottlecaps in there. I hope you spend them wisely." Colt stood up. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have business around town to attend to. Miss." He tipped his hat to Dew on the way out. Dew took me back outside and closed the door. "Comeon, let's get you to the market, see about getting that armor of yours fixed."

I nodded. Maybe I could sell some of the stuff I had scavenged from the slavers and maybe get a holster and some ammo for the .38 revolver I'd gotten from them as well. I followed Dew into the heart of the town.

The market was a simple affair, several open tents situated around an open plaza. I found a stall that would fix my armored barding, and I left it there to be picked up that evening. Another stall had a holster for my 'new' .38, and Dew had me pick up a really crappy one for a dirt cheap price, telling me that she'd show me how to strip a weapon for parts that were good and make repairs. We had split up to search for a particular stall, one where I could offload some of the weirder stuff I had taken off the slavers, when a gunshot rang out in the market. I screamed in pain as a bullet sank into my right flank just below the cutie mark. I looked up from where I fell to find myself staring down the smoking business end of a ten-millimeter pistol. My blood ran cold when I saw whose aura was holding it.

Lock, Shock, and Barrel. Moose's and Iron Discipline's stooges and a disgrace to the security force. Narrow faced and long-jawed, Lock was known by Stable Sixteen's mares as a handsome devil of a unicorn. His red fur and black mane along with his piercing black eyes had many a filly in a swoon. However, his cutie-mark of a locked padlock revealed his true possessive and cruel nature. Shock was a tall and skinny witch of a unicorn, her purple fur and straggly dark purple mane hated by many. Her blue eyes held contempt for anypony she considered less intelligent than her, which was pretty much anypony that wasn't her. Her taser cutie-mark reflected her sadism. Barrel was aptly named, a round, short earth pony with a grin that was too wide to belong to a pony. His pale, bone-white fur contrasted with his sickly green mane. His cutie-mark of a brick showed just how dense he could be, but interestingly, he may have been the smartest of the three. Now, normally, I wouldn't give those three the time of day, but they had shot me, and now held me at gunpoint as I bled on the ground.

Lock spoke in that damnably smooth voice of his. "So, Spark Chaser, thought you could just run away, did you?"

Shock snickered, her high-pitched voice grating on my ears. "Yeah, thought you were so clever, didn't ya?"

Barrel grinned, his perpetual smile somehow getting nauseatingly wider. "But you forgot that we had your PipBuck tag, huh?"

Lock pressed his pistol into my eye, forcing me to shut it tightly as he cocked it. He stood over me, gloating over the power he had in his hooves as he pressed down on my neck with one. "Spark Chaser, for the murder of Moose Puncher, you have been sentenced...to......death." Lock froze as the sounds of dozens of guns being cocked filled the air, the trio finding themselves staring down gun barrels as every citizen of Driftwood in the market plaza drew on them. For the longest time, nopony moved, the cry of a bird overhead the only sound in the market. Finally, the crowd separated, revealing Mountain Dew and Colt Lonestar. The sheriff cooley regarded Lock, Shock and Barrel with a practiced eye. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

Lock spoke up, not moving as he kept the gun poking my closed eye. "This pony is a wanted fugitive from Stable Sixteen on a count of murder in the first degree and escaping justice." He raised his voice, emboldened by the silence coming from the townsfolk. "As such, I demand he be put into our custody."

Colt merely looked at a guard standing nearby. "How did they get in?"

The guard shuffled his hooves uncomfortably. "Said they was lookin' for Sparky. Thought they was friends of his."

"I see." Colt returned his attention to the standoff. "You won't get nothing from us."

"Wha-?"

"You come into my town, and shoot a citizen of my town, and you expect to get what you want."

Shock snorted. "Since when is this loser a citizen of anything."

Dew snarled at the witch. "Since he saved half a dozen of kidnapped foals, bitch."

Lonestar nodded in agreement. "As a citizen of Driftwood, nopony can arrest Spark Chaser while he's in town unless you are me or one of my deputies."

Barrel spoke around the gun held in his mouth. "So, deputize us and we'll be taking Sparky with us."

Colt shook his head. "You don't get it. Three non-citizens just assaulted a citizen of Driftwood. That makes you the criminals here." I watched as Lock, Shock and Barrel's expressions went from ones of confidence to ones that said 'oh, shit.' Lonestar let that sink in. "As such, you are all under arrest. And per Driftwood law, all of your belongings shall be forfeited to your victim. 'Course," he gestured to the armed townsfolk. "You can always take your chances with the town folk." He gave a slow smile as the trio of troublemakers slowly dropped their guns, nodding to the three deputies standing amid the crowd of guns and knives. "Take 'em to the jailhouse." As the deputies moved forward, Lock hissed into my ear. "This isn't over, by far." As the three were led off cussing a blue streak at me, the sheriff moving to disperse the crowd as Dew sat next to me, lighting up her horn as she examined my wound.

"No major tissue damage, no major blood vessels cut, bullet intact..." Dew's horn flashed, and a bloodied bullet was hovering next to her. "Bullet removed. Administering healing potion." She poured a purple liquid into the wound. "YIPE!" Holy shit, it burned! Dew glared at me. "Oh, pipe down, it's not that bad."

"It feels like you're trying to burn my leg off!"

"Oh don't be such a big baby." Dew put the empty potion bottle away and patted my flank where I'd been shot. "There, good as new."

Sheriff Lonestar walked up to me, a stern expression on his face as the crowd dispersed. "We need to talk." I swallowed and followed Sheriff Lonestar to his office, Dew right behind me.

~~~~~

Colt Lonestar sat impassively behind his desk as I finished telling my story. I sat nervously in front of him, unable to read his face. Finally, he sighed and sat back. "Son, I would have done the same in your situation."

"Really?" He nodded. I swallowed and licked my suddenly dry lips. "So what now?"

"Now, we go over to the jailhouse to collect your property."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

Lonestar looked at me over the reading glasses he was wearing. "You are a citizen of Driftwood now, thanks to your rescue of our foals, part of your reward. Was going to tell you later, but those three forced my hoof. And since they attacked you, being non-citizens, the belongings on their persons now belong to you. Do you follow?" I nodded. "Good. Well then, shall we?"

The sheriff lead me outside where Dew was waiting. "Well?"

"He's good. Had a bad hand dealt to him. Trying to make the best of it."

I looked between the two ponies. "I'm right here you know."

Colt and Dew smiled. "We know."

We walked in silence to the jailhouse, where a unicorn deputy stood waiting for us outside floating a bundle. A horrible racket could be heard from inside the jail. The sheriff tilted his head to the side as he regarded the deputy. "Why are you are here, hm?"

The deputy shook his head. "Oh Luna, Sheriff, it's horrible. As soon as we put those three miscreants into cells, they just started bickerin' an' screamin' at each other, blamin' each other, sayin' it wasn't their fault, it was th' others'. It's been so bad, we've been taking shifts ta watch 'em. Ah just finished mine." The poor beige pony shuddered. "Ah really can't wait fer them ta be run outta town in th' mornin'." A particularly loud stream of invective punctuated his statement.

Colt shook his head. "You've got the stuff, I see."

"Yup." The deputy turned to me. "Here ya go." He started floating things over to me as he listed them. "We gots three sets of armored security barding, two ten-millimeter pistols in good condition, three sets o' hoof-cuffs, three batons, one .38 pistol in excellent condition, rations, water canteens, various assorted ammo, four grenades, and three o' them fancy leg computers. All yers."

I thanked the deputy before putting most of my new belongings into my saddlebags, save for the three sets of barding, hoof-cuffs, batons, and PipBucks. I floated the items back to the deputy, keeping one of the PipBucks for the moment. I turned to Sheriff Lonestar. "Um, here, I don't have much use for these right now, and well, it would just feel wrong if I didn't give these to you guys to help protect Driftwood."

Sheriff Lonestar nodded graciously. "Thanks, son. These will make things slightly easier on the town guard."

I floated the last Pipbuck over to Mountain Dew. "Um, thanks for, ah, pulling a bullet from my flank. I really, um, owe you one." Sweet Celestia, why was it so hard to speak with this mare? "So, um, here."

As Dew took the PipBuck from me, I felt an electric tingle run down my spine as her red aura momentarily touched mine. She looked at me. "Aww, thanks. Nopony's ever gotten me something this nice before." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I suddenly found myself turning a very bright shade of red as I hemmed and hawed. Dew giggled at my discomfort as Lonestar shook his head at our youthful antics. "Ah, to be young again."

I shook my head, sighing as I did so. "Well, I've got to go get ready to leave in the morning."

Dew frowned, Lonestar merely lifting an eyebrow. "Why? What's wrong with Driftwood?" Dew glowered at me as she demanded an answer.

I held up my hooves, shaking them quickly. "No, no, it's not that."

"Then what?"

"Before they were taken off, Lock told me that 'it wasn't over.'" Dew looked thunderstruck. "Stable Sixteen security has my PipBuck tag. They'll know where I am and everywhere I've been. I thought that once I was outside, I'd be safe, but if they sent Lock, Shock and Barrel after me...If I stay here, I'm putting all of you in danger. You don't know Iron Discipline like I do."

Lonestar nodded. "Son, I understand that you're doing what you feel you need to do. But remember this, running away from your problems will never set you free." He sighed, suddenly seeming like the world rested on his shoulders. "Before you go, come see me, there's some things you'll need to know if you are to survive out there." He gestured out above Driftwood's buildings and walls.

I nodded, then excused myself to go procure supplies for my trip. As I headed back to the market, I could vaguely hear Mountain Dew arguing animatedly with the sheriff. I put it out of my head. I had a journey to get ready for.

Author's Note

If you really want to know what Mayor Colt Lonestar looks like, just look up a picture of Sam Elliot in Ghost Rider or The Golden Compass.

Ridin' the Rails

"We fight or we die. Isn't that right?"

I woke early the next morning. After I did my morning business, I slipped on my newly repaired riot barding and my weapons. Leaving my room, I said goodbye to Granny Goody and left the bed-and-breakfast. I soon found myself at Sheriff Lonestar's front door. I lifted a hoof and knocked.

"Door's open, come on in."

I went inside to find the sheriff standing in front of a large map of prewar Equestria. "Son, I want you to take a good, hard look at this map, and to listen very carefully to what I say." Lonestar pulled out a baton, gripping it in his hoof. "We are here." He snapped the baton onto a small red dot next to a city marker. "Driftwood, just outside of Baltimare. Here," Lonestar pointed to a star. "Is the Canterlot ruins. Do not go there. When the megaspells were loosed, Canterlot got hit by a nasty one. Pink Cloud. Go in there, and you'll soon find yourself fused to your gear, to the cobbles, or whatelse have you." I swallowed as the sheriff continued. "To the north of Canterlot you'll find Fillydelphia. Stay away from there as well if you value your life and your freedom. A pony by the name of Redeye set up shop there some years back, claimin' to be bringin' civilization back to the wasteland. Big words, but he's just another two-bit warlord buyin' up slaves by the droves." I grimaced as I imagined the hell that Fillydelphia must be. Lonestar moved on to another part of the map, further to the north. "This is Hoofington. Many a scavenger has gone there lookin' fer a quick bottlecap. Ya see, the Hoof has been largely unexplored, so there's a lot of good salvage up there. However, not many ponies make it back. The Hoof has sumthin' called an enervation field. The whole region is dotted with 'em. Ponies what blunder their way into a field find themselves falling apart at the seems. I've seen ponies hopped up on hydra just melt away in enervation fields. Barely made it out of there alive myself." I must have looked as queasy as I felt, because the sheriff shook his head. "Don't worry none about them e-fields, son. You'll only find them out in the Hoof. Nopony knows why."

"Oh, good." I tried to swallow, but my mouth was too dry all of a sudden.

The tip of the baton moved back south, ending on a wooded area. "This here is the Everfree Forest. Full of killing joke."

"Killing joke?"

"Eeyup. Nasty blue plant. Does weird things to a pony. And I don't mean like drugs ya or anythin'. I mean it changes ya. I knew a pony, killing joke turned him inside out. I can still hear that infernal laughter to this day." I paled at that statement. Inside out? Holy shit. The baton moved northwest. "This is splendid valley. It's hellhound country. I never been there. I had the sense to stay away. But rumor has it there's sumthin' there in the old mining town that scares even the hellhounds." The wasteland was sounding scarier and scarier by the minute, and I was turning a very pale shade of my normal green. I held out a hoof.

"Sheriff." My voice squeaked a little. "I don't want to know anymore. You tell me anything else, and I'm liable to curl up in a corner and suck my hoof raw."

Lonestar looked at me for a long moment before sighing. "Very well. Don't want you to lose your confidence, now do we?" I nodded. I looked at my PipBuck, noticing that there was a notice on the map. I opened the auto-map, to find that each location had been added to the map as described by Sheriff Lonestar. The sheriff interrupted my train of thought as I tried to figure out how it did that. "Well, I do have one more thing for you." He held out a grey book with a black skull on the cover. "This is the Wasteland Survival Guide. Should you ever need to know somethin' 'bout the wasteland, you'll probably be able to find it in here." I accepted the book and slid it into my saddlebags. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. Good luck and safe travels." He held out his hoof and I shook it in farewell, leaving his study and home. As I made my way towards the gates of Driftwood, so named for the various flotsam and jetsam found washed up nearby according to Granny Goody, I found my thoughts drifting to Mountain Dew. What was it about that mare? I hoped to see her before I left.

To my sadness, nopony I talked to knew where Dew was. It was therefore with a heavy heart that I approached the gates of Driftwood to take my leave. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice a figure detach from the shadows by the gates.

"Hey stranger, goin' my way?"

I had a quick double-take. "Dew? What are you doing here?" Not that I wasn't happy to see her, but she looked like she was ready to wage a war. She was wearing the matte-grey armored barding of an Equestrian Army battlefield medic, three pink butterflies painted on the flank. A very large bolt action rifle, probably the one Dew had aimed at me when I had first arrived in Driftwood, along with a pair of saddlebags rested on her back. She smiled, looking as beautiful and deadly as the two grenades hanging off her barding.

"I'm coming with you."

I opened my mouth to tell her that, no, it was too dangerous. However, something told me that telling her that would be more dangerous than letting her come with me. "Alright."

Dew eyed me suspiciously. "'Alright?' That's it? You're not going to say that it's too dangerous or something?"

I shrugged. "Would there be any point to it?" I began walking into the wilderness of the wasteland, nodding a farewell to the two guards on duty.

"No." Dew gave a wry smile. "Guess not. So." She fell into step with me. "Where we going?"

"I dunno. Got any ideas?"

"Well, I don't know for sure, but wherever you eventually decide on going, Baltimare would be a good start."

"I thought we were in Baltimare."

Dew chuckled. "Well, yeah, the state of Baltimare. I was talking about the city of Baltimare."

"Oh." Doi. I jumped over a dried-up streambed. "So, why Baltimare?"

"Well..." MD paused as she navigated around a dead tree. "There's a settlement on the harbor. Boats from all over come and go all the time. We should be able to catch a ride anywhere we want to go."

I thought about it, deciding that I liked that idea. Also, it would be hard for anypony Stable Sixteen sent out after me, once Lock, Shock and Barrel returned from Driftwood anyways, to get me in a boat out on the open waters. "I like it." I stopped at an embankment as I pulled up the map on my PipBuck. "Looks like if we follow the railroad tracks nearby, they'll lead us right to Baltimare without having to play pioneer." I closed out my map. "Now we just have to find it."

"Do you mean this railroad track?" I looked up to find Mountain Dew standing on top of the embankment. I scrambled up after her, seeing that there was indeed a set of railroad tracks on top leading off into the distance.

"I suppose I do." We set off down the track, Dew in the lead. After some time, I found my attention drifting to the grey-green mare. I noticed the way her windswept, two-toned green mane accentuated her beautiful pink eyes. How her bullet-broken cross cutie-mark stood out on her mottled green-grey flank, the way her short, straight tail flicked around. The way her-

"Is that gunfire?" I almost ran smack into Dew's flank as she came to a sudden halt, bringing me back from wherever my mind had wandered. I took off my helmet and listened. For a moment, I thought that Dew had been hearing things, until I realized that the popping I was hearing was in fact gunfire. "C'mon!" Dew galloped at full speed down the railroad tracks.

"Wha-? Wait up!" I mashed my helmet back onto my head and charged after MD as fast as I could. Which is to say, not very fast at all. Although I am strong for a unicorn, and can walk for several hours before needing a break, get me galloping, and I'll be panting for breath like a dog on a hot day before I hit a quarter mile. Now, sprinting over short distances is not a problem for me. No, it's the distance trotting that gets me winded and wheezing like a geriatric hummingbird.

I managed to catch up with MD as she came to a screeching halt at the top of a small ridge. Looking down, we saw the source of the gunfire. An old steam-driven locomotive pulling three cars was under attack from a large band of ragtag, obscenity screaming ponies. Mountain Dew gave voice to their name. "Raiders." That word alone was enough to strike fear into most ponies' hearts. From our vantage point, we could clearly see how the raiders had attacked.

The train had been stopped by a large, dead tree that had fallen across the tracks, presumably knocked down by the raiders. Once the train had come to a halt, the raiders had sprung their trap. The half-dozen-or-so ponies laboring to clear the tree away had been caught flat-hoofed, and looked to have been slaughtered at the onset of the battle. From there, the raiders had surrounded the train and blocked the tracks behind it, preventing it from escaping. With one side blocked off by a sheer, rocky cliff and the other blocked off by raiders, it appeared that if help didn't arrive soon, the surviving train ponies wouldn't be surviving for much longer. Good thing for them that we were there. Dew and I watched as the raiders' latest charge failed, barely, sending another train pony to Tartarus. Dew looked to me. "So, what's the plan?"

"Me?" Nod. "Well, okay..." I chewed my lip as I thought, glancing at the besieged train and back at Dew. Her sniper rifle caught my eye. "Okay, here's the plan. You stay here and shoot anything that gets too close for comfort to me or the train. I'll head down and give you a signal to start firing. Got it?"

Dew unslung her rifle and twirled it so she ended up looking down the scope. "Got it. Go."

I started making my way down the steep face of the ridge. My plan was to get behind the raiders, catch them in a crossfire between myself, the train and Dew's sniperfire. Unfortunately, the hill had other ideas. A loose chunk of shale gave way beneath my hoof, sending me wailing like a banshee down the slope at full gallop in a futile attempt to keep from going down face-first. "YEEEEEEE!" Thinking that this was the signal, MD opened up, taking out the raiders that seemed to be in charge, or at least the biggest. Seeing me barreling towards them in a huge cloud of dust and dirt, screaming like a demon and watching their leaders fall to pinpoint accurate gunfire sent the raiders into a panic. By the time I crashed in a heap at the bottom of the incline, the last raider could barely be seen disappearing over the grey horizon.

"Ow."

I heard earth shifting and rumbling slightly as Mountain Dew slid down to come to rest next to me. "Nice plan."

"Ermph." I ignored the sarcasm in her voice. "It worked didn't it?" I asked, ignoring the fact that it hadn't exactly been the plan I had in the first place.

A very large brown, sandy-maned earth pony with a cutie-mark of a train whistle trotted up to us as Dew helped me to my hooves. He looked at me with a tilted head as I dusted myself off. "So, uh not to be ungrateful or anythin', but who th' hay are you?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Dew beat me to the punch. "He's Guardian Angel." I gave her a dour look. "What?" I just sighed and facehoofed.

The train pony lifted an eyebrow. "That pony DJ Nite was goin' on 'bout?"

Once again, Dew answered for me. "Yup!"

The train pony grunted. "Well, then, Mr. Angel, what brings you here?"

"Just heading for Baltimare."

"I see." The train pony looked over his shoulder at the train. "Wish Ah could offer ya a ride. But them raiders done killed mah strongest train ponies. Now, we don't have enough to pull it."

"Wait, wait, wait." I held up a hoof. "You pull the train. What's wrong with the engine?"

"Nuthin'."

"Then why-"

"We don't got any coal."

I looked at the train pony. "You do know how an engine works, right?"

"Eeyup."

"How?"

"Ooh, I know this one." I looked at MD. She cleared her throat. "You burn the coal and the smoke makes it go."

The train pony nodded. "Tha's it in a nutshell."

I shook my head. "True, but that is an extremely simplified version of how a steam engine works."

Dew looked at me with a perplexed expression. "Steam?"

I nodded. "The coal just provides a fire, which heats up the water in the boiler. The water turns to steam, which makes the engine work, then the steam condenses back into water."

Dew blinked at me. "How do you know this?"

I put a hoof to my chest modestly. "I read."

The train pony scratched his head, then perked up. "That means...we don't need no coal! We can just burn about anythin'!"

I smiled at him. "Bingo!"

The train pony's face fell. "'Cept, there ain't no water in the boiler."

I tapped my chin, trying to think. "Do you have any water in your cargo?"

"Yeah, but-" The train pony's eyes lit up again. "Kid, yer a genius!" He dashed off, yelling at his fellow train ponies as he went. "Boys, chop up that tree fer firewood and pull out the water barrels! We're drivin' this train to Baltimare!"

"The fuck you yammering on about, Piston?"

"I'll 'splain as we go!"

As the train ponies started running back and forth to fulfill Piston's orders, Dew turned to me quizzically. "So, what are they doing with the water?"

"Putting it in the boiler."

"Oh, doi." Dew bopped her forehead with a hoof. "Of course."

We watched as the train ponies finished emptying the last barrel of water into the boiler. By my estimations, it couldn't have been more than a quarter full, but if I remembered properly what that book of trains had said, it should easily get the train to Baltimare. As the train ponies all clambered aboard the cars, Piston poked his head out the engine's cab. "Well, what're you two waitin' fer? C'mon up! ALL ABOARD!" Eyes wide, Dew and I clambered into the cab with him as he threw a few levers, a roaring fire already burning in the fireplace. With an almighty hiss, the train engine shuddered as the pistons engaged, the large drive wheels spinning on the steel rails as they fought for traction.

CHUG.....CHUG.....CHUG....CHUG...CHUG..CHUG.CHUGCHUGCHUGCHUGCHUGCHUGCHUGCHUG...

We soon found ourselves positively flying down the tracks at speeds I never could have imagined in my life. Piston turned, seeing the looks of awe and glee on my face and Dew's. "First time ridin' the train?" He had to shout to be heard over the wonderfully loud steam engine. I nodded, beaming at the experience. I can't speak for Dew, however, as I had my attention on the wasteland zipping by us, or were we zipping by it?

I jerked back my head as something zinged off the metal by my head. Piston glanced out the window and cursed. "Raiders! They scare easily, but they always come back in bigger numbers!" I hooked a handlebar in my fetlock and leaned out of the cab. I looked behind as the wind buffeted me violently. There, galloping next to the train were several dozens of wagons being pulled by slavering earth pony raiders. Somehow, they were keeping up with the speeding train. I screamed into the cab. "How are they keeping up with us?"

Piston yelled back as he vigorously pulled several levers and hoofcranks. "Probably hopped up on Buck and Stampede. The Buck to give 'em more strength and endurance and th' Stampede ta make 'em meaner than Tartarus." He glanced back down the train and cursed. "Shit, but they're a determined bunch. Don't think we can out run 'em. Any more speed, and we'll burn off our water afore we gets ta Baltimare."

I leaned back out to see a raider getting ready to jump from his wagon onto the train. "Oh no you don't!" I yanked out Krieger and a burst of fire knocked the raider out of midair, knocking him unpleasantly beneath the tearing train carriage. I fired another burst at the pony pulling the wagon, but the Buck and Stampede running through him made him near unstoppable. Snarling, I emptied the rest of the clip into him, one of the last bullets finally entering an eye-socket and sending him crashing in a heap, the wagon flipping over his prone body as the yoke dug into the earth, tossing screaming raiders everywhere. I winced as a few were ground to ribbons beneath the carriage. Most of a clip to take out a single wagon. Sadly, Krieger wasn't going to cut it, not with dozens of wagons filled to the brim with raiders left. I leaned back into the cab and turned to Piston, still yanking feverishly at control levers. "We need more firepower if we're gonna stop 'em!" A loud BOOM reverberated in the engine's cab as Dew blew the head off a raider, causing the wagon she was pulling to turn and tumble violently across the ashy ground. Okay, I needed more firepower.

Piston hooked a hoof over his shoulder as he continued tweaking the controls. "Last car, haulin' cargo fer th' Steel Rangers in Baltimare. Y'might find summat in there."

I turned to Dew. "You gonna be okay?" She nodded. A nasty thought occurred to me. What if the raiders managed to get too close? With her bolt action rifle, she wouldn't be able to get off more than one or two shots before getting overwhelmed. I voiced my concerns, but Dew merely smiled predatorily and pulled out a nasty looking knife with a boomerang-shaped blade that bent forward.

"Me and Kookie here will kiss 'em goodnight!"

I slung Krieger on my back and clambered over the train pony shoveling wood from the once-defunct coal-car. Jumping the gap between cars, I pulled on the door to the first car. I punched the door in frustration when the locked door didn't budge. Deciding that there was nothing for it, I took the high road. Swinging into the slipstream, I clambered up the ladder on the side of the car onto the roof. Had it not been for the visor of my helmet, I would have been blinded by the sooty ash-smoke from the engine and the wind. As it was, I was soon covered in black soot from head to tail. I crossed the top of the freight car to find several train ponies on the far end of a flatcar, pinned down behind stacks of crates by cackling raiders right below me. Snarling, I drew my knife and dropped amidst them. A few screams and several spurts of arterial blood later, I stood wiping my knife off on one of the prostrate bodies at my hooves. I ran over to the train ponies guarding the final freight car, and my destination.

"I need to get in there."

The lead train pony made as if to argue, before deciding that a stallion covered in raider blood might not take 'no' for an answer. Wordlessly, he opened the door, closing it behind me as I entered the third car.

I stared in wonder at all of the shiney metal crates marked "demolitions," "ammunition," and such. I opened the nearest crate to find a long metal tube with some smaller, finned tubes resting next to it. My PipBuck labeled the larger tube as a 'missile launcher.' As awesome as that sounded, despite how badly I wanted to fire it, I decided that flinging high explosives around a moving train was a very bad idea. The next crate I opened had combat shotguns stacked neatly in rows. I supposed that the shotguns, while perhaps enough to bring down a raider on Buck and Stampede with one shot, would not be very good at range, where I wanted to keep the raiders. I was about to move on when a sparkle of light from under a canvas tarp caught my eye. I shoved aside some crates and gingerly yanked away the cover. I lifted up the helmet visor as I whistled in amazement.

Sitting on the crate before me was a large-bore heavy machine gun mounted on a saddle-like device. A fully loaded ammunition belt snaked from the top of the gun on the right, over the back of the saddle and into a metal box mounted on the left side. I ran a hoof reverently over the perfect black finish. I carefully lifted the battle-saddle in my magic and settled it on my back over my barding, buckling slightly from the weight. Cinching the straps tight, I took the control rod in my teeth, grinning as I made my way back to the door, pausing once to snag a few apple-shaped grenades from an open box. Rearing up on my hind legs, I bucked open the door.

I galloped out of the last car to find that the train ponies were once again hunkered down behind their crates, raiders swarming over the flatbed before me. Grinning feraly, I leaped up on top of the nearest crate and spread my hooves. Properly braced, I bit down on the control rod. With a roar like a buzzsaw, the machinegun blazed a line of death across the train, cutting raiders to bloody pieces. I played the gun across the flatbed, cackling in adrenaline fueled glee, the mule-kick of the gun shaking me like an earthquake. As the last raider on the train fell to pieces, I turned my new gun on the raiders still riding wagons alongside the juddering train. The big bullets of the machinegun blew huge hoof-sized holes in the wagons and the ponies pulling them. While Stampede and Buck may have dulled the pain of getting shot, it is very hard to keep running at the speed of a locomotive when one of your legs is suddenly and violently removed. Raiders died by the droves at my hooves as I rained fiery retribution down on them from the train, blood and body parts and burning vehicles littering the tracks behind us. As the last wagon pulled up alongside the train, my machinegun spat its last bullet, the raiders on board jeering and taunting me. The maniacal grins of the raiders vanished suddenly as I produced a grenade and tossed it sans pin into the biggest one's hooves. "Happy Hearth Warming!" The poor raider gave me a very plaintive look.

KRABOOM!

The last wagon exploded, a violent rainbow of death, light and screaming sound. As the miniature mushroom cloud vanished around a bend, I found myself shaking violently as I came down off my adrenal high. I suddenly found myself trying not to hyperventilate as I recalled every close bullet, every slashing blade that had come close to killing me. Utterly exhausted, I plopped my flank down on the flatbed, closing my eyes. It would only be for a minute...

I didn't awake until the train pulled into the settlement in the Baltimare train station.

Level Up!
New Perk: Big Guns Never Tire - You are filled with enthusiasm for big guns of any kind, the bigger, the better. +10 proficiency points towards the big guns category. In addition, Heavy weapons only weigh you down half as much as normal.