My Little Fallout: New Vegas

Chapters

Chapter One: A Meeting of Chance
Chapter Three: On the Road Again
Chapter Four: Gun Diplomacy
Chapter Five: Mine Kampf
Chapter Two: Unfortunate Circumstances

Chapter One: A Meeting of Chance

Chapter One: A Meeting of Chance

Foreword:

It was supposed to be a simple courier job: deliver a poker chip to New Vegas.

Like everything that is said to be simple, it wasn't. I was shot in the head and buried alive, all because of that fucking chip. Whatever memories and life that I had were erased when that nine millimetre bullet penetrated my skull.

With no name and no memories, I swore that I would take my revenge on those responsible.

I have been through hell and back in that time. I was lucky enough to have a companion: she has been by my side since I was shot ever since we met in Goodsprings.

I am the Courier, and this is my story.

\\\

I woke up to the soft sound of wind. I cautiously opened my eyes and saw, through blurred vision, a ceiling fan slowly rotating. I stared at the fan for several seconds, trying to remember where I was. The last thing I remembered was a man in a plaid jacket holding something...

I sat bolt upright, remembering what had happened.

I... I was shot. I was shot by that fucker in the suit for that godforsaken Platinum chip!

As my vision started to clear, I heard a male voice speak to me. "Whoa there! You've been out cold for a couple of days now. Why don't you relax a second. Get your bearings. Let's see what the damage is."

I took his advice. My head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and I doubted that I would have been able to do anything else. I took several deep, calming breaths and waited for my murky vision to clear. Slowly but surely, my eyes adjusted to the light and the haze melted away. I took a quick look around and noticed that I appeared to be in someone's home. Sitting in a chair opposite me was an elderly man.

"Glad to see that your finally awake. I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings." He paused for a moment. "What's your name? Can you tell me your name?" asked Doc Mitchell.

"I... I don't remember. I don't know my name," I responded.

The doctor sighed. "Well, I guess that's to be expected. You can't just take a bullet to the head and walk away without any side effects." He paused again, evidently thinking. "What can I call you, then? I can't just call you 'You', now can I?" he added with a chuckle.

"Courier!" I blurted. The doctor was startled by my outburst. "Err, that is, you can call me Courier. That was my job. It's the closest thing that I can think of that resembles a name."

Doc Mitchell grinned and said, "Courier it is, then. Your speech and mindset seem to be fine. Can you try and walk around for me? I need to see if your motor control is up to par."

I obliged the good doctor, sliding off of the bed. I found my balance easily, as I had always been light on my toes. I started to jog lightly around the room, but as soon as I did, the doctor stopped me.

"Take it slow now! It ain't a race!"

Grumbling to myself, I slowed my pace to a brisk walk. With the exception of my headache, I felt perfectly fine. After displaying my working appendages, the doctor nodded and said, "Why don't you head over to that Vigour Testing Machine there. We'll learn right quick if your faculties are all working."

"Sounds good," I replied. I walked over to the 'Vit-o-Matic' and let it scan my body. I was amazed that the doctor had something as complex as a full-body scanner in his rather rundown house. The machine whirred for a few seconds before the previously blank screen flashed to life. I looked at the results and was mildly surprised.

My status was separated into seven different groups: Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck. The fact that it that the acronym was 'S.P.E.C.I.A.L.' did not escape me. Doc Mitchell walked up beside me and we went over the results together.

"'Your Strength level has been rated at 7 out of 10.' Seven out of ten ain't half bad, if I do say so myself," the doctor commented. I shrugged in response. Carrying packages across the Mojave got you into shape whether you wanted to or not.

Doc Mitchell went down to the next statistic. "'Your Perception has been rated at 6 out of 10.' I'm glad that your senses are alright, what with me having to dig around in your noggin' to pull all the bits of lead out." The doctor continued reading out my stats. "'Your Endurance has been rated at 7 out of 10.' I suppose being a courier has its downsides, but it seems you at least got plenty of exercise."

"Travelling the Mojave will do that," I said wryly. I decided to read out the next one. "Your Charisma has been rated at 3 out of 10.' I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. Couriers don't get a lot of chances to socialize."

"Fair enough. Let's see here. 'Your Intelligence has been rated at 7 out of 10.' A bit of a bookworm, are we?" said the doctor with a smile.

"Well... yes, sort of. There isn't much else to do besides read when you're camped in the middle of the wasteland," I replied lamely.

"Don't sell yourself short, son. It takes more than just brute force to survive out in the Mojave," said Doc Mitchell.

I wasn't sure how to respond. "Umm, thanks." I cleared my throat and began reading the next S.P.E.C.I.A.L. statistic. "'Your Agility has been rated 7 out of 10.' That makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it. I always seemed to manage to deliver the goods a day early."

The good doctor nodded. "Well, one left. 'Your Luck has been rated 3 out of 10.'" Doc Mitchell frowned and knocked on the machine a few times. "Now that don't make a lick of sense. Seems to be you're the luckiest son-of-a-gun in the Mojave."

"I certainly don't feel lucky," I said dejectedly. "Getting shot over a package is one thing. Getting shot over a package and then being told that it was rigged from the start is another."

"Hmm. You're right, that certainly doesn't sound very lucky," said the Doctor. He glanced at the clipboard that he was holding. "You wouldn't happen to remember if you had a pet, would you?"

I shook my head. I had never wanted nor needed a companion. I preferred solitude.

The doctor sighed and asked, "Could you please follow me? There's something I need to show you..."

"What is it? Is there something else wrong with me?"

He shook his head. "No, not besides your memory loss. What I'm going to show you might stress you out, seeing as how you just woke up from a coma."

"Don't worry, doc. I can take it. Whatever it is," I replied, anxious to see what all the fuss was about.

"Alrighty then. Follow me."

I followed the doctor into what appeared to be his study. I was going to ask what it was I was supposed to be looking at when I noticed something curled up on a blanket in the corner.

No... It can't be...

I stood there in my underwear and gawked at the purple creature that was sleeping peacefully. "That... what... how..?" I managed to say. The doctor seemed to share my opinion.

"I don't know what it is or why it was beside your grave when Victor dug you up, but I figured it belonged to you. Now that you've said you didn't have a pet, I don't know what to make of it."

The doctor's words slowly sunk in. Grave? Victor? Pet?

I managed to tear my eyes off of the creature and look at Doc Mitchell once again. "I was shot in the head and buried alive. I was then dug up by someone named Victor. This is true?"

The doctor snorted. "More like something named Victor dug you up, but yes. That's all true."

I nodded, showing an outward calm that I didn't possess inwardly. "Okay. Now explain to me where that—" I pointed at the purple creature, "¬—came from."

"I don't know. Victor said that it was lying beside a freshly packed grave, which he found mighty suspicious. He dug up your shallow burial site, found you, and assumed that the odd creature was some sort of exotic pet of yours," explained the doc.

I looked over to the creature. "Can... can I go see it?" I asked.

The doctor put both palms up in the air and said, "Be my guest. I don't know how to take care of that thing."

I slowly walked over to the sleeping creature. As I got closer, I noticed more and more details about it. It had four legs with hooves on the end, its body was covered in a fine, purple fur, and it didn't appear to be the result of some strange variety of the local wildlife. In fact, I had never seen another creature like it in the flesh, but something seemed very familiar about it...

The realization dawned on me. It's a... pony, just like the old 'Giddy-up Buttercup' advertisements. What the hell is a creature that went extinct since the bombs fell doing here?!

I did not voice this sudden comprehension, thinking that the doctor might think that I was insane. Instead, I crawled forward on my hands and knees to get a closer look at the pony. I noticed that the purple colouring seemed to be natural: I could find no different shades in its coat. The pony's mane went from dark blue in colour through the majority of its length, but with a stripe of pink in the center. Looking closer, I also noticed a small stripe of purple separating the other two colours.

Its head was fairly large and its two eyes were firmly closed in sleep. It wore an expression of peace on its face as it slept.

I stood up and asked the doctor, "Has it been asleep the whole time I was out?"

"Yep. It's been out cold for as long as you have. I didn't want to try waking it up before you did, so I just let it sleep."

I turned my attention back to the sleeping pony. "Is it alright if I try to wake it up? I'll do my best to subdue it if it's aggressive..."

Doc Mitchell sighed. "Might as well. I doubt we'd be able to move it outside without it waking up, anyways. Go for it."

I crouched down and gently poked the pony in the side. It didn't stir, so I cautiously and carefully placed my hand on the pony's side. I could feel it's heartbeat, strong and stable, through the touch. I also noticed that the pony was very warm: my hands were ice-cold in comparison.

My touch was still not enough to get the pony to awaken, so I gently shook it. The pony still didn't wake up, so I put more effort into shaking it. My effort was rewarded when it yawned and stretched its limbs out in front of it. While the pony was stretching, I carefully backed away, not wanting to be too close when the pony became fully aware of its surroundings.

The pony sat up into a sitting position, blinking repeatedly. It looked around the room in confusion until it locked it's eyes with me. The pony's eyes grew wide as it looked at me with a mixture of fear and apprehension and it pushed itself into the corner, trembling. I thought that seeing a pre-war creature in the flesh was strangest thing that was going to happen. I was wrong.

Quivering in the corner, the pony opened its mouth and asked, "W—Where am I? What are y-you?"

I heard a thud behind me. I quickly turned around and saw the doctor sprawled on the floor, unconscious. I figured that he must have fainted. I didn't blame him. Sentient creatures that aren't human are few and far between.

Turning back to the creature, I spread my palms in an act of non-aggression and said, "I'm human. A human, that is. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you..."

The pony visibly relaxed, although it still held a wary posture. "Where am I?" it asked again, this time more calmly.

"You're in the Mojave Wasteland, in a town called... Goodsprings, I think." I scratched the back of my head, not sure how to proceed. "Uh... If you don't mind me asking, how did you get here? In the wasteland?"

The pony seemed to think for a moment. I saw the frown on its face deepen. "I... I don't know. I don't know how I got here."

This is the strangest conversation that I've ever had. I'm talking to a sentient pony.

"O—kay. Do you at least know your name? Do you remember anything else?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"I think my name is... I know my name is Twilight Sparkle. I know that for sure. Actually... that's the only thing I know."

Of course it doesn't know. Its... it's a she, if her voice is anything to go by.

"Great. That's just bloody great. Now there's two of us," I said bitterly.

The pony cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean? You're not a pony..."

I shook my head. "That's not what I meant. I mean, now there's two of us amnesiacs. I was shot in the head, which made me lose my memory. I have to use my profession as a name. Courier."

The pony nodded, seemingly understanding. "I guess... it's nice to meet you, Courier," she said, sticking her hoof out. It took me a second to realize that she was offering a handshake. I slowly walked over, bent down, and grabbed her hoof with one hand.

"Nice to meet you too, Twilight Sparkle."

Chapter Three: On the Road Again

My Little Fallout: New Vegas

Chapter Three: On the Road

I cringed as soon as we opened the door. I had almost forgotten how bright the Sun was in the Mojave. My eyes watering, I looked down at Twilight to see how she was coping. Naturally, she wasn't hindered in the slightest.

First time in the Mojave, and her eyes are better off than mine. Of course.

As my vision started to clear, I started to look around for any familiar landmarks off in the distance. I couldn't see any. Sighing, I said, "Come on, Twilight. We best get moving. Don't want the locals to see us."

Twilight looked around quickly, skimming over every abandoned house and twisted chain link fence. "From what I can tell," she stated, "most of the inhabitants are around that large building over there..." She pointed her hoof at what looked to be a saloon.

I nodded, thinking. I was plotting out our best course of movement. "Alright," I said. "We'll immediately cut right and follow the road out of here. With any luck, we'll find some sort of directional indicators."

Our decision made, both of us crept along and behind the run-down houses, staying out of sight. We eventually made it to the road, which I realized was not just a road, but an old interstate section.

All interstates lead to Vegas, I thought absently.

Sticking close to the rock face, Twilight and I managed to sneak around the town of Goodsprings. After we were a good two hundred metres down the interstate, I said, "Alright. We should be far enough away. Let's stick to the interst—err, road."

"What were you going to say?"

Sighing, I said, "Interstate. I changed the word midsentence because I wasn't sure if you knew what an interstate is."

Twilight seemed to think about that for a few seconds. "Well, can you tell me what the difference is? If I'm going to be stuck here, I might as well learn all I can."

Clever girl.

"Very well. An interstate was a large highway system that connected Old Vegas to all the outlying towns and rest stops," I explained.

"How many people lived here if they needed roads this big?" asked Twilight as she motioned to the interstate that we walked upon.

I chuckled. "I have no idea how many people lived here before the war. Hell, I don't know how many people live here now. Ten thousand? Twenty? Fifty?" I snorted and said quietly, "Mr. House probably has a tab on each and every one of them."

Evidently, I hadn't said that as quietly as I could've. "Who's Mr. House?" she questioned.

I raised my hand and pointed at the Lucky 38 Casino towering off in the distance. "Mr. House. The mysterious overlord of the New Vegas Strip and head of all the casino families. Apparently, he's been around since the bombs first fell." My bemused smile did not go unnoticed.

"I take it he's not very well liked, is he?" asked Twilight, who seemed to never run out of questions. Little did I know, that was one of the best ways to describe her.

I squinted at the ever-nearing interstate sign. "No. No he isn't. But there's not a thing anybody can do about it. He never leaves that bloody casino of his and his Securitrons will make short work of anybody who tries to force their way in."

Twilight opened her mouth, but I already knew what the question was going to be.

"A Securitron is a very-well armed robot that Mr. House uses as his police force. He has hundreds of them."

Twilight glared at me after I finished. "That wasn't what I was going to ask. I was going to ask: what's that over there?" She pointed with one of her legs at a rusted and sun-bleached yellow chunk of metal off on the left side of the interstate.

I stopped walking and stopped to look at it. "I don't know. Let's go find out."

As both of us walked towards it, I realized that it was an old refrigerator. A very suspicious and out-of-place refrigerator, but still. "Twilight, I don't think—"

I was interrupted by Twilight dry heaving beside me. I bent down and asked, "Are you alright? What's the matter?"

Twilight didn't say anything. She just pointed at the fridge. Standing up straight, I took a look inside...

What the hell?

Inside the fridge was a very old and very blackened skeleton. Looking closer, I noticed that there was what appeared to be a fedora on the skull of the corpse.

Even though it was a corpse, I still found it amusing how the hat seemed to fit the skeleton perfectly. I thought about how the person could've possibly gotten into a refrigerator and what purpose it would actually serve.

There are some things that just can't be explained. Just one more part to this wild, wild wasteland.

I figured that I might at least give the poor sap some privacy. I walked over to the discarded fridge door beside it and hefted it on top, locking the corpse in and providing some sort of coffin.

"Fare thee well, adventurer," I said as I walked back to where Twilight was sitting.

Twilight looked past me at the now-covered refrigerator. "Why was there a skeleton in that metal box?"

I exhaled. "There are some things, Twilight... some things that just can't be explained. I attribute it to this wild, wild wasteland that we live in."

She looked back at the skeleton's new coffin. "I guess... we better keep moving then."

"Agreed."

We walked for several more minutes before the interstate sign finally came into view. I squinted, trying to read it, but I could barely make out the first letter. "Twilight," I asked, "can you read what's on that green sign down there?"

"Sure," she responded. She looked at it for three seconds before saying, "It says: 'Jean', with an arrow pointing ahead, then 'Primm' with an arrow pointing to the right, and finally 'Las Vegas' with an arrow pointing to the left."

"My god, you have good eyes," I muttered. "Alright, we're heading to Primm. I have no idea what 'Jean' is. Sounds like a name..." Shaking my head, I motioned for us to continue forward. Another couple of minutes were spent reaching the crossroads where aforementioned sign was located.

We had our first string of good luck as we neared the sign.

I noticed that there was a small, wooden structure only a few dozen metres from the crossroad. "Hey Twilight, we should check that place for scavengable materials," I said, pointing at it.

"Don't we have enough stuff already?" asked Twilight.

I stopped in my tracks and gave Twilight an 'are you serious' look. "There is no such thing as 'too much stuff'."

Twilight gave me a look of her own.

"Fine," I exclaimed as I started to walk again. "There is, but we are definitely not at that point yet. If we're going to survive in the Mojave, we have to loot and scavenge any and all places that we can."

"I understand, it's just... I feel bad that you are carrying all the supplies, while I'm unburdened," said Twilight meekly. "I just want to help..."

She is definitely not from around here. I don't think anyone that I've travelled with has ever offered to help carry supplies. I thought a bit longer and realized that I'd only been accompanied by three to four people.

"If you want to help, I'll see if I can get some sort of pack made for you when we break camp. You're going to have to help me make it, though: I have no idea what would be comfortable for you to wear."

That seemed to make Twilight feel better. "Okay, I'll do my best," she replied.

By the time the agreement had been reached, we were at the crumbling wooden entrance to the shack. I told Twilight to step back as I unholstered both my pistol and my knife, holding them 'tactical style', my right arm holding the gun overlapping my left arm, which was holding the knife. At least, that was what the book I had read called it.

I kicked the door down, my new boots sheltering my feet from the shards of wood that came flying off of the dried and splintering door. I still felt bad for taking them off of Doc Mitchell's corpse, but I reasoned that I needed them more than he did.

With the door kicked down, I rushed through the cloud of dust to check for any possible threats. Thankfully, there weren't any. The shack didn't look like it had been entered in years. Exhaling in relief, I called, "Come on in, Twilight! There's nobody here!"

Putting my weapons away, I told Twilight to gather any food or liquids that she could. Meanwhile, I searched for weapons, clothing, and ammo.

I searched the old, rotting crates for anything of use, but they were all empty. The shelves had much of the same: nothing. Mildly frustrated, I asked, "Find anything?"

"No!"

Grumbling to myself thinking that it was a waste of time to come here, I started searching the lockers on the far wall, just in case. All of them were empty, with the exception of one, which was locked.

Dammit! I don't have any bobby pins...

"Hey Twilight, you wouldn't have happened to find some sort of key, did you?" I asked half-heartedly.

"Actually, there's one on the desk right behind you."

I turned around and looked down at the brass key. That's convenient. "Now how the hell did I miss that?" Shaking my head, I smiled and said, "Thanks, Twilight. What would I do without you?"

Twilight looked down at the floor, seemingly embarrassed. She murmured something that I couldn't make out. Deciding not to ask, I grabbed the key and tried it on the locker. Perfect fit.

I opened the rusty locker with a sharp tug. I scanned the shelves and found two very useful things: a silenced .22 pistol with three spare clips and a small bag that was full of bottle caps.

My stash now. After thinking this, I guiltily looked over at Twilight. I turned back to the locker and corrected my thinking. Our stash now.

"This is a very nice find," I said as I stashed the pistol, ammo, and caps in my backpack. "A very nice find indeed."

"What was in the metal box?" asked Twilight.

"Locker," I corrected without realizing. "There was a silenced gun with plenty of ammo, along with a bag of bottle caps."

"Bottle caps?"

"Bottle caps are the main currency in the Mojave Wasteland," I explained. I took one last glance around the hovel. "I guess that's it then. Let's get going; I'm sick of breathing musty air."

Nodding in agreement, Twilight Sparkle and I left the shack and turned left, which, according to the sign, was the direction of Primm.

We hadn't been walking for more than a few minutes before I felt a tingling sensation on the back of my neck. I felt like I was being watched.

"Twilight!" I whispered loudly.

"What? Is something wrong?" she whispered back, a look of worry on her face.

I quickly glanced behind me, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I scanned the wrecked remains of several vehicles that were on the interstate ahead of us, looking for any signs of movement.

I could've sworn that I saw the shadows move behind the upturned cars and smashed trucks. The tingling was getting even worse; I could feel the hairs on my neck standing straight. As we were walking towards a sideways semi-truck, I smelled something.

Smells like... sweat and gunpowder.

I put my right hand out, signalling Twilight to stop. I turned my head slightly and put my finger on my lips, hoping she would understand what it meant. Thankfully, she did, nodding quickly.

I faced the overturned semi-truck, put my hand on my gun, cleared my throat, and said, "The only good thing about no soap..."

I paused for a second, letting my words echo across the vehicle junkyard.

"...Is that you can smell raiders from a mile away!"

My words had the desired effect. I heard a low growl followed by, "Who you calling a raider?!" A very grimy man wearing what appeared to be an old prison uniform stepped out from behind the semi-truck. I saw that he had a stick of dynamite in one hand, and a lighter in the other.

As if on cue, two more men wearing the same style of prison uniform encircled us, one from the left and one from the right. The one on my left was holding a switchblade, while the one on the right had some sort of rifle. Instead of having it pointed at me, he was holding it nonchalantly, as if he was waiting around for orders.

"We're Powder Gangers, and we don't like being called raiders," continued the 'Powder Ganger' holding the dynamite as he slowly walked closer to us. He raised his dynamite in the air, the lighter inches away from string. "Unlike raiders, we do things with a bang!"

On the word 'bang', I pulled my 9mm pistol out of its holster faster than I ever had before. I spun around and shot the Ganger holding the rifle twice, once in the abdomen and once in the chest, before he could get a shot off. He dropped the rifle and went down clutching his chest. Anticipating the one holding the switchblade to rush me, I crouched and twisted to my left.

I felt the switchblade whizz past me as I brought my pistol up again. If I hadn't moved, I'm sure it would have stabbed into me somewhere around my torso. I shot the knife thrower, this time getting a headshot. His brain splattered against the side of a tarnished vehicle. Once again, I turned to the next target, the one with the dynamite, but it turned out that I was already too late.

Twilight had encased his hand in a purple orb of energy, which was causing the Powder Ganger to flail his arm madly, as if trying to shake it off. It took me a second to realize that the stick of dynamite was inside the magic sphere as well. And it was lit.

This won't be pretty.

The Powder Ganger was looking at Twilight with pure, abject terror. His wild gaze turned to me and he said, "For fuck's sake, get it off! Make it stop! I'll do anything you w—"

His pleas turned to screams of agonized pain as the stick of dynamite exploded within the confines of the sphere. The sound was muffled, but the explosion was not.

I crouched down and looked over at Twilight, whose horn was glowing a vivid purple. She seemed to be shaking slightly. Concerned, I asked, "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Twilight closed her eyes as her horn lost its purple lustre. In a warbling voice, she said, "I—I'll be f-fine."

I knew that she was most definitely not fine, but I had more important business to take care of first. Standing up, I slowly walked over to the Powder Ganger, who was now short one hand. In its place was a mangled and shredded stump with almost no traces of the hand left besides some strips of flesh. A pile of blood and gore was nearby.

I walked over and casually to the man lying in the dirt. He looked up at me with tears rolling down his face as his body was overtaken by violent spasms. "W-Who are y-you?!" he managed to say.

I smiled grimly as I pointed the gun at his head. "I am the Courier...

"...And I am not having a good day."

Chapter Four: Gun Diplomacy

My Little Fallout: New Vegas

Chapter Four: Gun Diplomacy

*BOOM*

With the Powder Ganger's brain now exposed to the dust of the Mojave, I went back to check on Twilight. I hoped that our first ambush wouldn't reduce her to a trembling wreck like so many others.

"Twilight?" I asked. She didn't respond, as she was staring at the mangled remains of the Power Ganger's hand.

"Twilight?!" I asked again, this time snapping my fingers in front of her face. Getting no response whatsoever from her, I decided to try a little more forcefully. I gave her a gentle slap across the muzzle, hoping to break her out of her reverie. It did.

"Ow! What the hay was that for?!" yelled Twilight, who was now paying full attention to me.

"Good. I couldn't have you staring slack-jawed like that. We need to keep moving before anyone else shows up. Gunfire attracts attention," I stated calmly and clearly.

The tears on Twilight's face continued to fall. "I-I did that," she stammered, pointing at the Powder Ganger's stump. "H-He was going to t-throw that red thing a-and I p-put a shield around his hand and h-he was s-screaming and—" continued Twilight, only to be cut off by me.

"Look at me," I said as I crouched down in front of the purple pony. She avoided my gaze, opting instead to stare at the ground. "Look at me!" I ordered forcefully. She met my gaze, her eyes shining from the tears that collected there.

"Listen to me, Twilight Sparkle. If you didn't do that—" I motioned towards the dynamite-wielding Powder Ganger, "—we'd both be dead. You hear me? Dead. Gone. Deceased." She shivered. "It was either them, or us. I don't know about you, but us living sounds a lot better."

"B-But," stuttered Twilight. "They're p-people, just like you..."

"I am not," I enunciated precisely, "like them. When you choose the life of a Raider... you aren't a person anymore. They aren't people: they're monsters that need to be put down..."

I realized that I was visibly shaking with anger. Taking several deep breaths to calm myself, I continued. "You saved my life, Twilight. You acted instinctively, conjuring up that shield around his hand. Besides, you didn't kill him. I did. His death shouldn't be on your conscience."

"B-But—" Twilight started to say, but stopped herself. "Y—You're right. They tried to hurt us and we acted in self-defence."

I nodded. "Exactly." Sighing, I looked around at the three fresh corpses that I had made. "Alright. You keep watch for anyone else while I search their bodies."

"What?! You're going to... but they're dead! It's practically grave robbing!" exclaimed Twilight.

"Survival, Twilight. It's disgusting, but it's necessary. Personally, I don't want to touch these grimy fucks—" I kicked the rifle-wielding one in the side of the head, "—but if we want to survive in the Mojave, squeamishness is no longer an option."

Twilight gulped and turned away from me. "Just... hurry up. I don't want to be here..."

Tell me about it, I thought offhandedly as I looked over the rifle. Five point five six calibre. Shoddy as hell. I'll stick with the ammo, thanks.

Along with a handful of 5.56 rounds, I found a syringe of Med-X and a small bag of RadAway on the Powder Ganger. I moved on to the knife thrower, whose brain was currently decorating a truck door. I only found a small collection of throwing knives on his person. I decided to keep them, thinking that I might as well have them and not need them rather than need them and not have them.

I made my way towards the final Powder Ganger, the one that I assumed was the leader. I carefully avoided the remains of his right hand while I searched the pockets on his coat. I found another stick of dynamite, along with a small bag of caps, an inhaler of jet, and a note.

I squinted my eyes and read the note:

"Not many patrols out here lately, which means not much loot. Our crew is thinking we should make a move soon. Follow the tracks up north; head towards the Strip. You in? Ain't on the chain gang anymore, but we still gotta stick together."

I folded up the note and stuck it in the pocket of my jumpsuit. Seems like there was a rift in the leadership and they split apart from the main group. Maybe the next group will be feeling diplomatic.

I couldn't help but laugh at my thoughts. [i/Yeah, diplomacy. That'll be the day.

"Alright, Twilight. We're done here," I said as I stood up.

"Good," said Twilight as she ran over to me. "I—I'm sorry for acting like that. I've never... I've never..."

I waved her apology away. "Don't worry about it. You're doing pretty damn good for someone who's new to the Mojave Wasteland." I shielded my eyes from the Sun and looked down the road. In the far distance, I could see a small town. That must be Primm.

"We're burning daylight. Let's go."

\\\

Damn. Just when I thought we were in the clear, I thought as we continued to walk towards Primm. Someone wearing light brown army fatigues had appeared from one of the barricades surrounding the town. They were holding a rifle.

I leaned down and whispered to Twilight. "Don't say anything. These guys can and will shoot anything that isn't wearing their armour."

She nodded back, already adhering to the no speaking rule.

We walked for a little while longer before the soldier spoke up. "Come any closer and I'll blow your head off!" he yelled across at us.

I raised my hands to show that I was unarmed. "We're just passing through, trying to get to Primm. Could I—"

"Primm's gone to hell," interrupted the trooper. "I don't know what you want in Primm, but it'd be best if you turned around and walked away. Besides, how am I supposed to know if you're a Powder Ganger or not?"

"Because I just killed three of them not half an hour ago," I stated. "I also have a note here that may prove invaluable to you."

The trooper was silent for a few moments. "Alright, fine. Approach slowly and don't make any sudden movements. Oh, and tell your dog to heel or I'll blow it's brains out."

I looked over to Twilight who had a frown across her face. She looked like she was going to say something, but thought better of it. I wish I could hold my pride like that.

We did as we were told, slowly walking across the open expanse of the crumbling freeway towards the entrance of a bombed out town. When we were twenty paces away, the soldier pointed at me and said, "You. Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you."

I swallowed nervously. He had a Service Rifle, an automatic machine rifle. I wasn't sure that I could get a shot off before him if we came to a disagreement. "I found a note on one of the Powder Gangers that I killed. I have it here in my pocket," I said, my hands still empty.

The trooper seemed to weigh the decision. After a pause, he said, "Alright. Slowly reach into your pocket. Any sudden movements and your brain gets to feel the Mojave air."

Obeying, I slowly grabbed the note and made to hand it over to the soldier. He laughed when I tried to hand it to him.

"Oh no you don't. I'm not taking my hands off of my gun. Read it out loud."

Asshole, I thought as I brought the note into my vision and cleared my throat. "It says: Not many patrols out here lately, which means not much loot. Our crew is thinking we should make a move soon. Follow the tracks up north; head towards the Strip. You in? Ain't on the chain gang anymore, but we still gotta stick together."

The trooper was silent for a few moments, his gaze looking past me. "They aren't as unified as we thought," he muttered under his breath. Blinking, he refocused on me and lowered his gun. "That's the best news I've heard in a week. As long as you don't go stealing our shit, you're welcome to—"

He stopped midsentence when Twilight peeked her head around my leg. "What a sec, that's not a fucking dog! What the fuck is that?!" he yelled as he shouldered his rifle again.

"Easy! Calm down! She's not dangerous!" I said, trying to convince the trooper. It didn't work.

"Why the fuck is there a mutant following you?! What the fuck is that thing?!"

"I am not a thing!" yelled Twilight, startling both the trooper and I. "I am a unicorn! And my name is Twilight Sparkle!"

Shit.

The trooper alternated pointing the gun at Twilight and myself, unable to decide which was the bigger threat. "I don't know what the fuck is going on, but you are going to come with me," stated the trooper, his voice cracking.

"How about we just turn around and forget that—"

I stopped when I saw the glare that the soldier was giving me. "You're acting like you have a choice. You don't! Start fucking walking!"

The trooper held us at gunpoint, forcing us to walk through the bombed out town to the command tent. The trooper walked ten paces behind us, leaving me no chance to disable him before he could shoot me. We walked in sullen silence through the destroyed street all the way to the tent. When we got there, the trooper called, "Lieutenant! I've got something that you may want to see!"

The tent flap opened and a trooper wearing the standard issue armour and a beret stepped out. "What is it this time, Edw—" the lieutenant started to say, but stopped when his gaze went over Twilight. He stared dumbly at her for a couple of seconds before asking, "What is that and why is it here?"

I could hear the trooper behind me shrug, the metal plates in his armour clinking. "The purple thing seems to be the scavenger's pet. Oh, and it talks."

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he asked, obviously not believing the trooper.

"I'm not fuckin' lying! It fucking talks!" He pointed at me and said, "Make it talk again!"

"First off, her name is Twilight Sparkle. Second, I can't make her talk. She's a friend, not a pet. Why don't you ask her yourself? Oh, and ask politely. She's new here," I said while staring at the trooper.

Grumbling something about 'typical wasteland', the trooper looked at Twilight and asked, "You can talk, right? This isn't some elaborate scheme or some shit?"

Twilight looked at me, as if asking if she could speak. "You already broke the rule. There's no sense in pretending now," I whispered to her.

She cleared her throat and said, "My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I'm a unicorn."

I heard a sigh of relief come from the trooper behind us after Twilight finished speaking, while the lieutenant had a slack jawed expression. "How... who... what... why are you here?" he finally managed to ask.

"That's the thing; we don't know," I responded. "We both have memory loss, me from being shot in the head and buried alive, and her for some reason that we haven't deciphered yet. Apparently, she appeared next to my grave."

The lieutenant shook his head. "That's the most outlandish story I've ever heard," he stated. "Although, given the fact that you have a large scar on your head and that there is a purple... unicorn standing there, I'm inclined to believe you."

I sighed in relief. "That's good, because—" I started to say, but stopped when the lieutenant raised a hand.

"Private Edwards, put your gun down," said the lieutenant. I glanced behind me to see the trooper reluctantly holster the Service Rifle across his back. Turning his attention back to me, the lieutenant asked, "Anything else I should know?"

"Actually, yes," I said as I grabbed the note once again from my pocket. "I found this on the leader of a band of Powder Gangers that jumped us on the interstate. From what I've heard, it's good news for you guys," I finished as I handed the note over to the lieutenant.

He read the note, his eyes devouring the information on the ragged piece of paper. "This is good news. In fact, it might be just what we need to convince the pencil pushers at McCarran to finally sweep up those ex-convicts so we can deal with the situation here."

"What is the situation here?" I asked.

The lieutenant took off his beret and ran a hand through his hair. "The NCR gave a bunch of convicts dynamite and blasting charges to mine from the Quarry. Long story short, giving dynamite to convicts isn't very smart. They revolted and started a chain gang called the 'Powder Gangers' that use explosives. They've been causing havoc for months, so we were sent to protect the town of Primm from the Powder Gangers. Unfortunately, we're stuck guarding against them while other convicts run free in Primm and due to our orders, we can't move to assist the town."

I shook my headBureaucrats. "Great. I guess that means we'll have to sneak our way to the Mojave Express, won't we Twilight?" The purple unicorn nodded shyly.

"Sneak where? I never said you had permission to go anywhere," said the lieutenant as he motioned for the trooper behind us to hold us at gunpoint. "In fact, I think that your little purple friend here will be just the thing to get us promoted out of this dump."

You fucking assholes, I thought angrily. "I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

The trooper behind us laughed. "Get your ass to the tent, scavenger. We'll deal with this thing."

I glanced down at Twilight and whispered, "Can you make another shield?" Twilight nodded quickly. "When I say 'go', make a shield around the two of us, okay?" Another nod.

"What're you two whispering about? Move!"

"Go!" I yelled as I drew my 9mm pistol from its holster in one fluid motion. As I turned around, a large, purple sphere engulfed me and Twilight, causing everything outside of the shield to be blurred. I heard a bunch of gunshots being fired by the trooper behind us, followed by grunts of pain. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed the trooper behind us fall to the ground.

I turned my attention to the human shaped blob that was still standing. "On three, deactivate the shield," I said to the pony on my right as I aimed my pistol at the lieutenant.

"Okay," said Twilight, who had her eyes closed while violet light glowed from her horn.

"One... two... three!" As I said 'three', the shield abruptly faded from view, leaving me with a clear shot on the lieutenant, who was struggling to draw his own sidearm. I had an easy target right in front of me. I didn't miss.

As the echo of my two shots died down, the lieutenant fell backwards onto the street, blood trickling out from the hole in his chest and blood gushing from where his right eye used to be. I didn't spare him a second glance, as I was already turning around once again to check on the trooper that was behind us. I froze as I saw him, as he was propped up on his left elbow, holding the service rifle with one hand. It was pointed at me.

"Fancy trick, kid. Glad I wore my combat armour today," said the trooper before pulling the trigger. The click that followed eerily echoed across the empty expanse.

"Ah, crap—" he said as I shot him between the eyes.

As I holstered my pistol, the Pip-Boy on my arm giving off a beeping sound. I ignored it, deciding to fiddle with it later. I didn't notice the text that scrolled across the amber-lit screen.

"Perk Gained! You may not be the most outstanding orator or a silver-tongued devil, but your quick-thinking is second to none! Quick Reflexes perk acquired!

Effect: You gain a 25% increase of speed while enemies are nearby! This speed increase affects the following: movement, weapon equipping, and reloading!"

"Companion Trait Gained! Due to Twilight Sparkle being from another Universe entirely, she has been awarded the Element of Magic trait!

Effects: Twilight has the ability to cast numerous forms of magic, along with being able to see much better than any other person due to her oversized eyes! However, she is very easy to spot, giving both you and her a -25% decrease to Sneak.

Bonus Effect: Additional dialogue options are available with everybody in the Mojave Wasteland!"

Chapter Five: Mine Kampf

My Little Fallout: New Vegas

Chapter Five: Mine Kampf

"You alright, Twilight?" I asked.

"Yeah," she responded. "Just a bit tired, that's all. I haven't stretched my magical muscles in a while. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

I raised an eyebrow. I figured Twilight would be a lot more exhausted after creating a bullet proof shield out of thin air. "You're sure? 'Just a bit tired.' That's all?"

She nodded. "I'm still fine to walk, and if push comes to shove, I can still make another force field if need be."

Smiling grimly, I said, "I've got a feeling that we'll require your... talents again today." I glanced around, suddenly realizing that we were just standing around, chatting, in the middle of the NCR Trooper's camp. I hadn't even checked if there were any other guards nearby. "Twilight, keep an eye out for movement," I ordered. "I've got to see what these assholes have on them."

With Twilight on guard, I walked along the dusty, cracked road over to the trooper with a Service Rifle, the late Private Edwards. The first thing I checked was the Service Rifle, as it would be extremely useful in any future encounters with raiders, mutants, or any other problems that could be solved with bullets. Which, now that I think about it, is most of them.

Sadly, the Service Rifle was seemingly ravaged from the reflected bullets: there were holes and dents along the entire gun and the barrel was bent thirty degrees further to the right than it should've been. Goddamnit! I thought angrily. I thought the clip ran out, not that the gun was turned into fucking scrap metal from the ricocheted bullets!

Grumbling to myself about the injustices of the Mojave, I quickly searched the dead trooper. If I had the time, I would've taken his armour as well, but I didn't want to be caught with my pants down. Literally.

Forty-six 5.56mm rounds and a flask of water were all I managed to grab off of the trooper. Sighing, I made my way over to the lieutenant and repeated my shakedown process. Hayes had a handful of 9mm rounds on him, along with a syringe of Med-X and his own 9mm pistol. The gun was in worse condition than mine, but I kept it anyway. I rather enjoyed fiddling with spare parts and making modifications to my guns when I had some downtime. A shame my downtime is practically non-existent.

With the fresh corpses successfully looted, I motioned for Twilight to follow me. We headed towards Primm proper, but we were forced to stop before we made much headway. In a seemingly recurring theme, the pony saved both our lives again, but this time with curiosity rather than a bullet-proof force field.

"What's that?" asked Twilight when we were crossing a mostly destroyed bridge with whole chunks of concrete missing from its skeletal structure. She pointed her hoof at a small, circular object that was on the ground right beneath my foot: I was in mid-step when she asked. I looked down and a small red light winked back at me.

"Oh shit," I exclaimed, carefully putting my foot anywhere but its previous course. "Good eye, Twilight. Frag mines are really damn hard to spot if you're not looking for them. If you hadn't said anything, I doubt anyone would be able to find whatever was left of us."

The unicorn blanched from my description. She looked at the mine with curiosity no longer: she looked at it with fear and apprehension. "Can we disable them?" she asked.

I shook my head and said, "I certainly can't. Explosives aren't my weapon of choice. Sure, I've tossed a few grenades here and there, but disabling frag mines is far out of my league." I scratched the light layer of stubble on my chin, an idea forming. "I may not be able to... but you could."

"What?! I can't disable it! I don't know how!"

A wolfish smile appeared on my face. "I didn't say anything about disabling them..."

\\\

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" asked Twilight. "What if... what if I can't keep the shields up?"

I waved off her concern. "Don't worry about it, you'll do fine. Just remember: one mine at a time." Taking a deep breath, Twilight nodded and closed her eyes, a familiar purple aura engulfing her horn.

My brilliant plan had been to have Twilight pick up the mines one by one using the same small force field that she had used on the Powder Ganger. Since it seemed to contain the explosion and muffle the sound, I figured that it would work as a kind of 'minesweeper'. In theory.

I watched with rapt attention as the first frag mine lifted up into the air, the semi-opaque shield completely surrounding it. After a short but violent shake, the mine exploded, causing a brief flash of light and a light 'boom' to originate from the encased mine. Twilight levitated the sphere over the road and let go of the spell, causing the remnants of the frag mine to fall to the ground in a pile of metal powder.

She repeated the process three more times to remove the remaining mines while I anxiously kept looking around, expecting someone to try and sneak up on us. Thankfully, no one did.

"Alright...t-that's the last one," panted Twilight. "We can... go across now..."

Call me crazy, but I had a feeling that Twilight was neglecting to tell me something. "Your magic tires you a lot more than you're letting on, doesn't it?"

Twilight looked up at me, surprised. She only managed to hold my gaze for a few seconds before dropping her head and looking at her hooves. "It shouldn't, but it is. I know that where I'm from, magic was easy to cast. I could levitate objects all day if I needed to." She sighed, then continued. "Here though... it tires me out a lot more than it should."

Some things are too good to be true, I thought. "Ah well," I said. "Considering that nobody else in the Mojave is capable of doing what you can do, Twilight, I think it's only fair that you can't use as much magic as you normally could. After all, we have to give everyone else at least some chance, don't we?" I concluded, trying to bolster the unicorn's confidence.

It worked. Smiling, Twilight responded, "I suppose your right. I'm sure being grossly overpowered wouldn't make for a very good story when I return home."

"That's the spirit!" I exclaimed as we walked towards Primm.

Chapter Two: Unfortunate Circumstances

My Little Fallout: New Vegas

Chapter Two: Unfortunate Circumstances

As I shook Twilight's hoof, I noticed several more things that my quick look-over missed. Like the fact that she had a horn on her head.

I dropped her hoof in surprise. "Why... why is there a horn on your head?"

Twilight giggled. "That's because I'm a unicorn, silly. You act like you've never seen... a unicorn... before..." She trailed off, realizing what she had said.

"As long as it's not a mutation, I'm fine with it. What does it do?" I asked.

"It allows me to use magic," said Twilight. Her horn began to glow purple and several of the crumpled and worn books that were spread along the table floated into the air, hovering in place.

"Holy fuck!" I yelled. "You can levitate things?!"

Twilight smiled and dropped the books back down. "That's not all I can do!" she said before disappearing in a small flash of light. Before I could jump backward in surprise, I felt something nudge my leg. I whipped around to see Twilight standing behind me.

"D—Did... did you just teleport?!" I exclaimed. "That's fucking incredible!"

Twilight's face grew a bit red from my praise. "It's nothing special..."

Well I'll be damned. A pony—err... unicorn... that can teleport and levitate stuff. Not only that, she's modest too!

"Don't sell yourself short, Twilight," I said, stealing Doc Mitchell's words. "No person or thing is capable of doing what you can do."

"Thank you, Courier," said Twilight. A slight frown appeared on her face as she thought about something. "You said that you were 'shot'. What does that mean?"

Of course, I thought, mentally smacking myself. How would a sentient pony know what a gun is? If their technology is at the same level as ours, their weapons would be completely different. They don't even have fingers, for crying out loud!

"In the Mojave Wasteland, we have things called 'guns'. These guns fire small projectiles called 'bullets'. These bullets fly faster than the speed of sound and they are used to kill people. I was shot by a gun at point blank range. In the head."

Twilight's eyes grew wide once again and a look of revulsion was plastered on her face. "Kill people?! Why do people here kill each other?!"

I looked at Twilight, confused. Was her world really that idyllic? Her expression told me 'Yes'.

"Well... for food, water, weapons, and other basic supplies," I explained. My voice grew ragged. "And then there are those that kill for fun. Pleasure. Sport." I exhaled slowly. "This world is pretty fucked up. I don't know where you came from, but it seems to me that it was a much better place than this—" I motioned out the window, "—wasteland."

Twilight jumped up on the table to look outside, as she was too short to see without a height increase. "Oh sweet Celestia," she muttered.

I looked outside at the run-down town in front of me. It was not a pretty sight.

"There are many worse things out there in the wastes, Twilight Sparkle. Pockets of radiation, mutants, raiders. The whole Mojave is dangerous. There is one place, however, that stand as a beacon of light and hope in this hellhole." I pointed to the Lucky 38 Casino in the far distance, the tallest structure in the Mojave. "New Vegas. One of the last, if not the last, cities in Nevada. That's where I was supposed to deliver the stupid poker chip."

Twilight was silent for a long time. Finally, she asked, "Is your whole world like this? Ruined and dying?"

I nodded grimly. "As far as I know, yes. Killing is just another task of surviving here."

Twilight stepped off of the table, her posture downcast. "I know that this isn't where I belong. It's so annoying, knowing things without knowing why I know them!"

"Tell me about it. I know all the things I've done, except without knowing who I am. It's very strange," I replied.

Twilight looked up at me with her oversized eyes. "Well... what happens now?" she asked.

"I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to go to New Vegas and find the son-of-a-bitch that shot me. And then... I'm going to take my revenge," I said with venomously.

"What about me?" asked Twilight.

"Uh," I responded eloquently. "You could come with me... if you want to, that is..."

Twilight glanced back out the window. "I don't know how to survive out there," Twilight said dejectedly. "I'd only hold you back..."

"Oh no you don't!" I snapped. "Don't you start wallowing in self-pity on me! Your magical talents alone are more helpful than anything I can do."

She looked at me with tears flowing down her cheeks. "You... you really mean that?"

"Of course," I responded. "I'm just a courier. Sure, I've been around the Mojave, but that doesn't hold a candle to being able to teleport and levitate shit!"

Twilight glanced at her hooves, embarrassed. "Well... I don't have anywhere else to go... and if I can actually be of use... then sure."

I stuck out my hand out this time. Twilight placed her hoof in it once again. "I think that this will be a long and mutually beneficial relationship, Twilight Sparkle," I said as we shook.

"What do we do first?" asked Twilight.

I glanced down, realizing that I was wearing nothing but boxers. I glanced at Doc Mitchell, who was still passed out. "I don't know about you, but I'm not going out there in my underwear," I remarked as I shook the elderly doctor in an attempt to wake him up.

The doctor was being stubborn, so I gently slapped him on the cheek a few times and said, "C'mon, doc! Wakey-wakey."

Doc Mitchell still didn't move. I was starting to grow worried at this point. In a flash of comprehension, I realized that I hadn't checked his pulse. My hand flew to the doctor's neck.

No pulse. Doc Mitchell was dead.

"Oh shit," I said quietly.

Twilight trotted over. "What's wrong?" she asked.

I stared at the lifeless doctor. "He's... he's dead. He must have had a heart attack instead of fainting," I said emotionlessly. "I never even said thanks for saving my life."

Twilight was visibly shaking. "I... I killed him!" she sobbed. "I scared him to death!"

I grasped Twilight's shoulder. "Now is not the time for remorse. We need to gather what supplies we can, and quickly."

"Why?" sniffed Twilight.

I didn't want to explain right then and there, but I had no choice if I wanted her assistance. "First rule of the wasteland: If you kill someone, their stuff is yours. Second rule of the wasteland: There is no second rule."

I saw a look of horror on Twilight's face. Sighing, I said, "I didn't make the rules, but you can't choose to not live by them."

"I-I... I understand. It's necessary. But that still doesn't mean that I like it," said Twilight.

I nodded. "I don't like it either, but that's life." I thought for a second. "Start grabbing everything and anything that looks like food or water. We'll need to stock up here, since we won't be going to into the town."

"Why won't we go into the town?" asked Twilight.

I grimaced. "How do you think they're going to react when they find out that the doctors dead? They 're going to give us a taste of 'Wasteland Justice'." I noticed the confused look that Twilight wore. "They'll kill us for killing him," I elaborated. "Start collecting foodstuffs, please."

Nodding, Twilight galloped into the next room over, leaving me alone.

"Well," I said to myself. "Time to scavenge."

\\\

Ten minutes later, Twilight and I were standing over a large pile of supplies. I had raided the doctor's wardrobe and found an old Vault 21 suit, which is what I was currently wearing. I had also found a Pip-Boy, which I wore on my left wrist. I wasn't sure how to use it, but I knew that they were extremely useful.

Twilight had done a good job of gathering food: there was around three or four pounds of Pre-War foodstuffs, along with a bunch of fresh vegetables.

For medicine, I had gathered twelve Stimpacks, two syringes of Med-X, and the doctor's medical bag, which was full of other miscellaneous medical supplies and instruments. During my search for medicine, I found a long, sharp knife along with a Laser Pistol, which had only thirty-odd energy cells of ammunition left.

"Good job. Now all we need is something to hold it all," I said, wondering what had happened to my old pack. Thankfully, I had Twilight.

"Is this big enough?" she asked as she levitated my old backpack from a different room.

"My pack!" I exclaimed happily. I reached over and grabbed it out of the air. I quickly searched it and found several more useful items.

My nine millimetre pistol, forty-two bullets for it, several bottles of water, and...

I pulled out a crumpled and faded note. It was the package delivery instructions for my most recent courier job. I quickly read over it.

Mojave Express... that's in Primm. I guess that's our first stop.

"What's on the letter?" asked Twilight. "You don't seem to be too happy about it..."

I stared at the piece of paper as I crumpled it in my hand. "That piece of paper got me shot," I replied. Shaking my anger off, I started packing everything into my backpack. I had it custom made several years ago to hold much more than what we had gathered.

I strapped the 9mm Pistol to my right side, along with two spare clips. I attached the knife to my left side. I turned to Twilight as I shouldered my pack. "Are you ready?"

Twilight gave me a level look. "No. But we should go anyways."

I chuckled wryly. Together, Twilight and I opened the door to the wasteland.