Fallout: Equestria - The Score

My name's Jet. I'm not a nice guy.

Of course, not many people are nice out here in the Wasteland. But I'm not only not nice. I'm kind of an asshole. I kill people, steal things and do drugs on a daily basis.

Take, for example, the fact that I went on a raid the other day. This little bunker called Stable 6.

You see, we had happened to be camping in front of the place the other day. Me and my raider buddies were talking and laughing, tallying up how many ponies we'd killed. That's when we began to hear noises on the other side of the Stable door. Cheering noises. Curious, we picked up our guns and stood next to the door, trying to make out what the ponies inside were saying.

Without warning, the door began to screech open. We backed up, surprised by this. That's when an idea began to form in our ranks. My friend, a fellow earth pony named Ripper, looked at me and grinned.

"Let's kill 'em," he said.

I smiled right back at him. He knew me well; I was always down to let off some steam and fire a few rounds off. Nothing like adding a few notches to my rifle. At last count, I had forty-seven and Ripper had fifty-one (Coincidentally, we were running out of space to cut notches). Maybe now was my chance to get ahead of him.

"I'm up for anything," I told him. To the rest, I shouted, "Fresh meat! Who's ready to get some blood on their hooves?"

A few other raiders cheered in anticipation. "Hell yeah!" shouted a unicorn raider named Knife (In case you haven't noticed, we happen to have rather creative names. Some of us named ourselves).

The door rolled open, and several hundred ponies in blue stared at us in confusion. Not wanting to delay the massacre, I opened fire on the crowd. The screams were louder than anything I had ever heard as the masses turned around and poured back into the Stable. Several of the ponies were sprawled dead on the ground. I counted six, which put me at fifty-three.

"Better keep up with me, Ripper!" I shouted, charging into the Stable after my soon-to-be victims. However, almost as soon as I had, I heard the pop of small gunfire. I sidestepped, panning my eyes to search for the assailant. It was a Stable pony in the corner of the entrance, dressed in guard armor that did little to stop the hail of gunfire I sent his way.

I sprinted past the growing pile of corpses, firing round after round at the Stable ponies. Two more dead. They fled like cattle to the atrium, with little to no defense against me and my pals. Soon, dozens of them fell. I felt the adrenaline rush normally accompanied with mass slaughter. Boy, I hadn't ever killed so many people in one sitting before in my life! There was something satisfying about watching a unicorn's horn skitter across the floor after you've shot it off its owner.

Ripper trotted up to me, firing away at our prey. "I've got seventy, Jet!" he said over the shouting and shooting. Other raiders moved past us, armed with bats and blades.

"Seventy-four!" I called back. Catching the first few by surprise had given me just the head start I needed. I realized that the ponies were now splitting up, seeking refuge in the numerous bedrooms and restrooms throughout the Stable. "They've split! You go after those ones, I'll get these."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Following after the Stable ponies, I found one of my raider companions in their wake. His body was trampled beneath the crowd's hooves, and he was bleeding from a gunshot wound in his chest. I was in the middle of stepping over him when I heard him groan.

"Jet..."

I looked back at the poor sap, only then realizing that it was Knife. "Yeah?" I barked back harshly. I had ponies to kill, and this asshole was slowing me down.

"Please, you... you gotta help me. D-do you have any Med-X?"

I knelt down beside my dying companion, looking him in the eye. "No, but I've got something else for ya."

"Please. Anything!"

I bit down on my battle saddle's trigger. Knife's head exploded in a shower of blood and brain matter. Seventy-five. "Fuckin' junkie. You deserved it." Not wanting to waste any more time, I hurried down the corridor to catch the remainder of the Stable ponies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much later, I was sitting beside Stable 6's gear-shaped door and standing guard with a few others. There were piles of bodies on the ground, most of which I had killed. I even tallied it up: I was at 142. A few of my other raider buddies had taken their fair share, but none had as many as I did.

Except for Ripper, maybe. As soon as we'd taken out the last few, we would compare kills. Until then, I just had to make sure none escaped.

Some old Stable stallion sprinted out from behind a box, but I cut him down with a burst from my assault rifle. "Got one!"

Another raider, whose name I couldn't remember, looked at me in irritation. "Ah, give it a fuckin' rest, Jet. We're not keepin' score, ya don't have to brag."

At that moment, Ripper trotted in. "Hey guys! They've got hundreds of Sparkle-Cola crates! We're gonna live like princes!"

My eyes widened. Sparkle-Cola was one of the best beverages in Equestria. Sure, it was just flat soda, but it had a taste that rivaled the greatest booze, the most perfect Mint-Al or even those tasty wasteland omelettes that some fellas made. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "We've gotta get some of that!"

I trotted after Ripper, but he put a hoof on my shoulder. "Not yet, Jet," he said. "You gotta keep watch."

Damn it. I really wanted some of that. But there would still be plenty waiting for me when we blew this joint. As the other raiders walked out to celebrate their find, I moved over to a nearby box and sat upon it, grumbling to myself. I wondered what Ripper's count was up to. Surely he couldn't have bested me, could he?

I looked up just in time to see a mare, no older than sixteen, stand up from underneath a corpse pile. She hadn't seen me yet. I raised my rifle, lining the sights up with her head. But I hesitated.

What did one more kill matter, anyway? I had killed plenty today. Something inside me told me that it just wasn't worth it. Yeah, I'd murdered fillies before. Done a lot worse to them, in fact. But I realized that she was the last surviving resident of this place. There was a good chance that I alone had killed her family.

So I let her walk away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long afterwards, Me, Ripper and our friends were making our way out of Stable 6. As it turned out, me and him were neck and neck at 143 kills apiece. I was disappointed that I hadn't taken the lead, but I didn't regret letting that filly go, even though it would've put me ahead.

We didn't know where to go next, so I consulted the map, which was just a makeshift drawing on a piece of torn paper. We were just outside of Ponyville and slightly northwest of New Appleloosa (who absolutely despised ponies like us). I didn't think that we should be stupid enough to attack Appleloosa, and Ponyville was a deathtrap. I stared at the map for a few minutes.

"Are you stoned or something? Get outta the way," said Ripper as he shoved me aside and looked at the map. "I say that we make a run through that one-horse town, Ponyville or whatever." He pointed to it on the map.

"You crazy, Ripper?" asked a bandit next to him.

"Ponyville's not our turf," I said. "Those Bloodletters own the place, what with all the landmines and shit."

Ripper flashed his trademark psychotic grin. "You think I don't know that? We're gonna get in, take their supplies, and get out. Simple as that."

"You make it sound too simple," said the bandit again. "They've got some high-caliber weapons, Ripper. It's suicide going in there." He gestured to me. "Jet's got the best gun outta all of us, and it's just a flimsy rifle! They have sniper rifles and shotguns."

"Ah, but we'll have something they won't." Ripper's eyes flashed with greedy eagerness. "The element of surprise."