Fallout Equestria Omega's Trials

Prologue

I walked down the long, bland hallway in Stable 77, bored. When you are on maintenance, there was very rarely something to do. Everything had worked pretty much flawlessly for the past 200 years. An exciting day was when I got to fix a clogged toilet. Not that I didn’t mind being lazy, I was quite good at it; however, when there was nothing to do otherwise one tended to go a little crazy. So I did what I was apt to do; find a unique and slightly unsettling way to drive somepony insane. I feel I must inform that my cutie mark isn’t a picture of me stuffing some poor pony into a strait jacket (which I have done before; it was a very slow Tuesday.) My cutie mark is a sickle. While it might look menacing, the sickle just means I have a talent for harvesting grain. Probably. Never had to use it on another pony (not that some days trying it as a prank hadn’t crossed my mind) but I have a feeling might be going a bit too far with imitating madness to prevent it.

As I trotted down the endless hall, I had an unfortunate run in that would ruin my day. To start off, unicorn horns are very sharp and pointy at the end, so ending up with one of those crashing into your skull when the horn’s owner is in full gallop can really ruin your day. We crashed through the hall for a few feet before staggering to a stop.

“SWEET GODDESSES!” yelled FM as she regained her composure. FM had a radio tower with signal symbols as her cutie mark and she was the most beautiful mare in the stable. She had a stunning blonde mane that curled down around her shoulders, contrasting nicely with her dark chocolate brown coat, and a flank I could stare at for days. “We need to get you to the infirmary!”

“No, if anypony needs to go it’s you! Your horn is bleeding!” My brain called me for a quick conference after that statement, telling me as a struggled back to my hooves, ‘Wait a second. Horns don’t bleed. Horns are like big tough teeth on a forehead, with thicker enamel.’ That realization was followed by a sting, which progressively grew into a burn, which then started to feel like a raging inferno had been lit in a 7 inch gash that stretched across the left side of my face.
“I retract my previous statement. I agree, I think we need to get to the infirmary before I collapse from blood loss.” I said, already feeling light headed.

She took a bandage from her utility vest and levitated it to my head.

“This should stop the bleeding, but we should get a healing potion in you so that it won’t leave a scar,” Fm said as she helped me walk the short distance to the infirmary. She either didn’t recognize me or didn’t care who I was. It was refreshing to have ponies not walking on eggshells around me just because I wa-

“FM! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” screeched Head Nurse Belle as she yanked out a healing potion from behind the counter and galloped the short distance to FM and I. Apologies were chasing each other out of her mouth, “ OHIAMSOSOSORRY! I’MSUREFMDIDN’TMEAN IT!! ITWASANACCIDENTIMSURE!!!”
“It was, don’t worry my mom won’t-”

“Won’t what?” interrupted a familiar authoritative voice. I hate being interrupted.

“Won’t have to worry about it?” I answered with my best ‘please-mom-I-know-you-worry-about-me-but-PLEASE-don’t-embarrass-me-ESPCIALLY- in-front- of-the-hot-mare’ voice.

“Nurse Belle. I’m waiting for an explanation. Why is my son in the infirmary with a massive head wound and his blood on this unicorn’s horn?!” Though I wasn’t looking at her, I could see from the fear in Nurse Belle’s eyes that it was my mother’s chilling ‘I can have you locked into maintenance painting pipes until the day you DIE ’ look.

“It was an accident mom. I was in a rush to finish my chores,” My mother’s face didn’t soften, but she was still open to listening what I told her, if I hurried, “and we kind of crashed into each other at a blind corner.” I turned around to face her, my mother, the mare that terrified everypony in the stable. I would most likely end up replacing her when the Stable Legislature voted; all I had to do was wait for my mom to go senile, or take a step to far in controlling the stable and end up hurting somepony by her actions.

An unkind smile slowly appeared on her face, “And, my dear child, why were you in a rush?” Her voice was saturated with false sweetness. It was her ‘I’m going to use my unicorn magic to beat the tar out of my earth pony son!’ voice. “And it cross your mind to use that damned glowing bar on the bottom of your eyes to see if anypony was coming?” Her unkind smile was turning hateful.

I realized that I was screwed, thinking ‘Completely royally FUCKED is more like it. This is the end.’
“He was on his way to see me. Ma’am.” FM piped up much to everyone’s shock including my own. Especially my own. “Like we have been doing for week, Ms.Overmare, ma’am.”

My mother eyed us both suspiciously, her black eyes darting back and forth between us from behind her glasses.

“Omega, is this true?” Her black eyes matched my black coat perfectly.
My mind raced. Dear god, this was scary. What was my mother expecting me to do?! If I said FM made it up, FM could get in serious trouble for lying to the Overmare. If I went with FM’s story, this might be all forgotten. But not only would I be lying to my mother, but lying to the OVERMARE. Of course this could very easily end badly for both of us. But it could end much worse for FM, much worse ending for her. FM didn’t know what she was getting herself into. FM was too pretty and would not do well in detainment. I decided to go with the lie.

“It is mom.” Stupid other head always doing the thinking.

“And you didn’t tell me because…..?” The Overmare’s tone had gone from rage to irritation, which to the untrained ear sounded almost exactly the same. I thought might make it through this.

“I didn’t tell you because you are always overreacting and babying me. Even with the private lessons and combat classes, you make sure you know the exact origin of every cut, scrape, and bruise.” I heard myself standing up to my mother, the Overmare, and I pondered if it would it hurt to be cremated alive. A voice in my head answered ‘Definitely,’ to my pondering, and then mentioned something about it being crowded.

“I’ll see you when you get home. If anypony asks, both of you are excused from curfew for one hour.” My mother’s voice still held the authoritative tone, but I could see the façade was cracked ever so slightly. Two security passes popped up from thin air. Only the Overmare knew this spell, so she could be sure no counterfeits were being produced. The Overmare walked off. Only the trained eye could see that I had actually gotten to her.

“So we have an hour extension to our curfews and our chores are done, what are two ponies to do?” She smiled mischievously and began to saunter off,

“Well silly pony aren’t you going to follow?”
Yes, yes. I was going to follow.

I walked in my home door with seconds to spare on my note before it evaporated.

“Omega, I need to talk to you,” my mother’s voice was gentle, not the authoritative tone I was used to. “I know at times it can seem that I’m overbearing and sheltering you, but that’s only because I want you to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what mother? I don’t think being the Overstallion I’d have to know the magical mechanics behind a sky cart,” I said, referencinga previous lesson I believed useless.

“Do you know how you become Overstallion?” I nearly balked. I was born into it, like every other pony was born into their positions. That was common knowledge. This had to be some sort of trick question, but I decided to answer honestly.

“I’m born into it; like every other pony. We pick up where the parents left off.”

“No. No, you are not. You have to earn it like all the other ponies have to earn their positions.” Her gentle voice had gone back to the stern tone.

“Well yeah, the Stable Legislature has to vote me in but who else could they choose?” I almost laughed. Who else could they vote for?

“They can choose anypony who has been outside the stable for 3 months.” Her voice was deadly serious, somehow worse than the gaping head wound serious.

“What do you mean? The door is sealed shut. That’s the first thing we learn.” My mother wasn’t making sense. Going outside for three months! Was that even possible? Was there an outside at all?

“It’s not we merely let them believe it’s sealed, it can be opened at any time.” She was giving me a hard look. Part of me kept waiting for everypony to jump out tell me it was an April Foals day prank.

“You mean we can go outside?” The new voice in my head was stuttering in shock.

“Yes.” There was an uncomfortably long pause. “However, there is a reason why we don’t.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say it’s an inhospitable wasteland that no life can survive in and what life does survive in it makes it cruel and cannibalistic?” There was still a hint of hope that this was a joke in my voice.

“Fairly accurate assumption, but you are off on a few minor details.” She sighed. “There are dangerous ponies out there, raiders, slavers, bandits, and worse.”

She saw the worry in my face, and to be honest part of me wasn’t quite accepting of me leaving. Another part was still grappling with the concept of outside, and a third was still hoping for a joke. My mother, in a rare moment of tenderness, put her hoof on my shoulder and smiled warmly. “But there are some worthwhile ponies out there. Three months isn’t that long, and you have me to help you. Grandpa just told me I’d find out for myself.”

“So is that why you never talk about my father? Was he one of the worthwhile ponies?” Her eyes went wide and looked into mine. Tears started to well up in her eyes. Was she really so stunned that I’d bring him up? I never met the stallion and assumed there was a reason for her not to mention him. My mother cleverly changed the subject every time I brought it up, so I eventually stopped bringing him up, thinking it to be one of those ‘when you’re older’ deals.

“Yes,” She looked down a tear falling. I had never seen my mother cry. It was unsettling to see her so vulnerable. “Your father, Iron Saddles, saved me more times than I care to count. He was the one who actually taught me about the wasteland. When to move, what was a trap, what to eat, how to shoot, and for a while, I thought I loved him.”

“Thought?” was that all I could say.
“He was a Steel Ranger, ponies sworn to protect technology and horde it. I thought that he had seen past that. I actually thought he cared about me.” The tears started to flow down her face. “Then one day he asked me if I’d take off my pipbuck. I jokingly asked why, as if it was a new thing he wanted to try that night.” I blocked that image from my brain. “He said he was a steel ranger and had duties. I told him he didn’t need it, he had that shiny armor and all the spells, but he said all technology was the property of the steel rangers. I told him bullshit. He then told me to get out of his site and run back to the stable and if he saw me again he’d kill me and take my pipbuck. I realized he was just after me for some easy flank and a fancy watch.” She was balling now and then I realized how much it hurt her every time I asked her about my dad and why we had extra thick walls in our room.

“Mom, what can you tell me about the outside?” She stopped and quickly regained her composure, smiled and said “The sun, the moon, the stars, rain, wind, everything.”

I learned more about the outside world that night than I ever thought I’d learn. I learned about the political climate of her time, the various factions and gangs. I made a note that most of this was about 17 years out of date, but I believed every name, every bit of intel I gathered would help me. I already knew how I was spending my 3 months, and hoped Steel Rangers were as tough as she made them out to be. It’d be disappointing to find out that I wouldn’t get to have words with my father over a sledge hammer.

That month I had only two things on my mind: FM and studying what my mom had told me from memory about the various rules of the wasteland.

Rule 1: A weapon

Rule 2: Armor

Rule 3: A companion who you trust to watch your back

And bottle caps were money for some reason, and she had never gotten to a real answer as to why.

Rule 4: Kill any raiders I come across, avoid slavers, and if I look real tough they won’t bother me, same rule with bandits. My mother also said not to be a hero, because the wasteland destroys them. She also mentioned to listen to a radio host called DJ PON3, he knew what was going on out there.

Rule 5: Don’t hold out hope for the sun. The Pegasus have blocked out the clouds and weather is prone to being erratic. All this seemed to depress the new pony in my head which was something I found odd cause I still hadn’t found out where she came from, which was also weird because I typically don’t imagine mares rummaging around in my head commenting on everything.

Rule 6: Only go into The Hub if you have too. It is dangerous and extremely easy to get lost in.

It was the night before I left, and I was packing up and going to be seen out by my mom and the Legislature. The door opened and behind me there was a sigh. It wasn’t my mother’s sigh that I had grown accustomed to hearing over this last month preparing for my journey. It was a lighter, happier sigh. A sigh that hadn’t been through the gauntlet that my mom told me was the wasteland.

“You don’t have to worry about it. Who knows? Maybe it’s become a civil paradise and when you emerge you will be treated as a guest of honor.” FM’s voice was full of doubt but it could not near to equal the shock that was in mine.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon, I’ve been rummaging around in your head for a month.”

“WHAT?

“My cutie mark is an emergency broadcaster, which means I have a talent in getting help. Which indirectly means I’m good with telepathy.”

“YOU’VE DIGGING IN MY HEAD ALL MONTH?!?”

“Yep. All month.” She said with a sly grin, “So I know all your secrets, including your porn stash. So unless you want your mom to find it, I recommend you keep quiet about my ability. It’s not exactly common knowledge.” She smiled cruelly. “I also know all your fantasies and am quite flattered that I’m in a good part of them. We made the original mental connection when we crashed in the hallway, when my horn dug all the way to your skull.”

“…Didn’t know you hit me that hard….” I mumbled.

“So you have thirty minutes until they send you out.” Her smile made me quiver. “Is there anything you want to do?”

I was running 5 minutes late to the stable door; they had provided me with a 10 mm pistol, I checked it, it was in decent condition, with 10 clips. I was told to make it last, I remembered from my combat training in the stable’s gun range ten clips doesn’t last that long. And the few red vs. blue drills I took part in last month, I didn’t know that another pony was so hard to hit without SATS, when they are moving, and shooting back, and using cheating unicorn magic. My mom had ordered it to be disabled for the exercise; apparently there are some places in the Hub’s Wasteland that magic spells like that cease to work, they were called mute zones.

She told me this part of the wasteland was often referred to as the Hub because it was a the major shipping hub for all materials both war and civilian, and had the building to match it, a six massive six sided structure each side was a mile and a half long and was 90 stories tall, has hundreds of miles of railroads and dozens of small villages over the landscape, there were also rumors of underground tunnels but she had no need to go down there so she never searched them out.

As the door slowly swung open after 17 years of lying idle I heard the voice of FM telling me that she would be with me for as long as she could. I spun around and smiled reassuringly at my mom.

“If you find your father,” She knew I was actively thinking about hunting him down, “be careful, Steel Rangers only want your technology.”

“If I find my father, I’ll be sure to tell him Cherry Pie sends her regards.” I gave her my most serious look as I slid back the action on my gun.

Her concerned smile was the last thing I saw before the door closed. Leaving me alone in the empty tunnel.