It's A Wild, Wild Wasteland

by xl9

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Dark, Human
Length: 1634

When a scientist accidentally brings a farmpony into the hellish Mojave Wasteland, Applejack must brave the elements and beasts o this wild wasteland to get home.

The Wasteland. Everybody lives there, and nobody likes living there. So when word spreads around the Mojave that there's a chance to escape, everyone is interested. Too bad for the courier, who once again finds himself caught in the middle of a crisis between warring factions. However, the only thing he expected less than a gateway out of the Mojave…

Was a visitor from the other side.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-24 22:40:06 UTC

Prologue: The Courier and the Pony

“War. War never changes. The romans waged war to gather slaves and wealth. Spain built an empire from its lust for gold and territory. Hitler shaped a battered Germany into an economic superpower

But war never changes.”

“C’mon, mister,” A man wearing a tacky leather outfit called out, motioning for his similarly dressed friends to join him. “We don’t want any trouble. Just give us the caps and be done with it.”

The four men slowly moved to a figure leaning on a red rock, one hand on his fat pouch of caps and the other on his holster. “What if I don’t?” He already knew the answer to this, but pissing off the stupid gangers was always fun.

The four men whipped out weapons of different shapes and sizes, all aiming them at the defiant figure. “Then we’ll have some trouble.”

The poorly shaven figure scanned the others with his tired green eyes. A quick glance at the four men and he knew their weapons. A nine millimeter pistol. Worn, by the looks of it. Could probably be repaired and sold at a decent price.

Varmint rifle. In top condition, probably scavenged from a travelling merchant or mercenaries. After all, Powder Gangers aren’t known for their top of the line craftsmanship nor handling of weapons. A nine millimeter sub machinegun, probably the most dangerous gun of the bunch, in the right hands. The figure reckoned he would have to gun down that ganger first, a lunatic and spraying and praying isn’t a nice combination to have.

Finally, a ganger with a .357 Magnum Revolver. The figure always had a soft spot for revolvers, his own prized sidearm was one after all. He’d save that ganger for last. A one on one sorta deal. The only way real men fight with revolvers.

Content with his analysis, he dropped his bag of caps on the ground. The ganger’s eyes wandered down for a second to gawk at the massive pouch. A very, very bad move on their part.

The figure drew his prized ‘Lucky’ and levelled it at the man with the sub machinegun. As he looked back up, two .357 rounds pierced his lungs. The man with the varmint rifle tried to get a steady aim, but  bullet went through his right eye before he had the chance to pull the trigger.

With the hot lead flying, the more cowardly pistolier took a chance and ran for the hills, nine millimeter firmly holstered. He obviously overestimated the moral code of the figure, or lack thereof. Somebody tries to kill him? He kills them first. Running away doesn’t change that.

Two shots went into the man’s left leg as he collapsed. The figure would deal with him later. With one shot left, he spun around to face the revolver-wielding ganger. The ganger shot, and missed by a wide margin due to his trembling hands.

In a single shot, Lucky’s last bullet shot the man’s hand, causing his own revolver to clatter to the ground. The ganger fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding hand. His eyes slowly rose to the approaching figure. Yes, he knew that he looked familiar. Brown duster, plenty of caps, thick rimmed black cowboy hat. The gunslinging confirmed his worst fears, this man was indeed, the infamous Courier of the Mojave.

And that was the last thought the ganger had before the thick blade of a bowie knife was stuck through his skull.

“Hurry up, smoothskin!” A raspy voice growled at a cowering human. The man frantically tinkered with an odd monolith, desperately trying to activate it. When the roaming ghouls found him roaming in the desert, they had just expected to find some energy weapons on him. Not in a million years could they predict that he may have found the ticket out of the hellish wastes.

He called it the Great Monolith. Despite only fighting in his pocket, he had claimed that he once opened it for a split second, enough to see a world of grass and living trees beyond. Needless to say, the ghouls were intrigued.

A few primed plasma rifles later, and the scientist was now working for a ghoul gang in an abandoned cave to open a portal to greener pastures. Quite literally.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” He whimpered, shoving a microfusion cell into the battery pack. “I-It should be working now!”

The leader of the ghouls snatched the monolith from the man’s hands, slamming down on the button on top. The machine began to whirl to life, vibrating rapidly in the ghoul’s hands. He gripped it harder, his very hands rattling.

Finally, the shaking stopped, and a large portal opened up on the floor around the ghouls. The circle of ghouls stepped back, watching the magnificent portal to fully open up. When it seemed to reach it’s maximum size, it flickered to life. While it only lasted for a matter of seconds, the ghouls saw something wonderful.

Apple trees. Not dying trees, or artificial trees, or mutated trees, but honest to god apple trees. The same ones seen painted on billboards of the old world or heard about from pre-war audio tapes. However, what they didn’t expect to see was something to come out of the portal.

An orange equine wearing a stetson tumbled out of the portal, the gate swiftly closing behind her. The ghouls stared in silence, unsure how to approach the alien. Their leader, however, had different ideas than peace.

“You think this is funny smoothskin?” He growled, dropping the device and nailing the scientist in the gut with a kick. “Send in a godamned alien?”

“It’s a two way portal!” He protested between grunts of pain. “It’s just—” He was cut off by the leader shooting him in the leg.

“Shut your mouth, smoothskin!” The leader spat, turning to the alien. From the thirty seconds she had been in this new world, she already didn’t like it. Not only was she pulled from her job at Sweet Apple Acres, but she hadn’t enjoyed having her first sight be a man get a brutal beatdown.

“Boys,” He pointed to the alien. “Try stabbing it, would ya? Alien meat isn’t worth much if it’s just dust particles.”

Applejack could understand what he was saying clearly, and while she didn’t know how she could be turned into dust, she wasn’t about to wait and find out.

As one of the ghouls drew a knife, AJ snapped into action. She tackled the ghoul and gave him a kick to the gut for good measure, just to make sure he would stay down.

The three other ghouls were shocked, eyes widening as Applejack stepped off of the quivering ghoul.

“Well don’t just stand there ya idiots!” The boss yelled, pulling out a ten millimeter pistol. “Get it!”

The two henchmen drew machetes and slowly approached AJ, who was considering her options. Fight or flight. When the first machete swung at her, she decided on her answer.

Applejack ducked under the machete swing, and bit the ghoul’s leg. The radiated beast cried out in pain, but AJ just turned around and bucked him with her hind legs. The ghoul flew into the other ghoul, both of them collapsing into a pile. Before Applejack could face the lead ghoul, two gunshots rang out, followed by the gurgled screams of a ghoul.

Applejack turned around as slow as she could, locking eyes with the scientist, standing over the bleeding body of the ghoul leader. He was the same scared man she had seen when she was thrust into this world. The only difference was that he was now pointing a ten millimeter pistol at her head.

Applejack’s knees felt like jelly, but she managed to put on a brave face. “C’mon now…” She spoke clearly and calmly to her would be killer. “No need for any more violence.”

“W-Who,” He choked out, his aim wavering. “What are you?”

Applejack prepared to ask the same question, but quickly realized that she was in no position to ask these questions just yet. “Name’s Applejack,” She slowly drawled out her response. “Ah’m an earth pony… And I mean no harm.”

The man’s eyes darted to the crippled ghouls sprawled around the room, bleeding and twitching. “Then what in the hell was that!” he snarled, causing AJ to slightly recoil.

“Savin’ mah hide,” She responded calmly. “And ah’ saved yers as well.”

Slightly smiling, the man began to lower his pistol. “I guess you’re right, Applejack.” AJ allowed herself to relax as well, trotting up to the man. “Don’t have a name, Mamma just called me ‘Sonny’. So I guess that can work here as well.”

“Well, Sonny.” Applejack approached the scientist, looking out of the cave’s mouth into the sprawling desert beyond. “What is this place?”

Sonny sighed, dusting off his lab coat. “You’re in the mojave wasteland. Our wonderful home.” He took a moment to grab a cap off of a nearby shelf.

“Wasteland?” She pushed up the brim of her hat, getting a full view of the desolate city on the horizon. “Was it always like this?”

Sonny shook his head. “Not before the war, no.”

“War?”

Sonny cleared his throat. “In two thousand and seventy seven, the most powerful weapons on the world rained down across the planet. Almost everyone died. Homes were destroyed, governments fell, and radios went silent. It was like the world hit the reset button.”

Applejack’s pupils dilated. This world blew itself up? As much as she wanted to stop asking questions, she hungered for more information. “So… What did ya do?” Applejack questioned.

Sonny smiled at the wasteland, digging his hands into his coat pockets. “What we’ve done since the beginning of time. We rebuilt.”