Fallout Equestria: Fallen Eagle

by regulator133

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Adventure, Crossover, Alternate Universe, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 2990

A Pre-Canon Fallout story. A mare fights against the zebra Remnants.

This is a trial run at a Fallout story. It's just the prologue to the story I am going to write, but this will give me a good look at what needs work.

The Great War, ponies and zebras fighting endlessly, killing millions. Even after the end of the war, the war raged. The new zebra army, the Remnants under the Legate, still fought against ponies outside the Equestrian city of Hoofington.

Almost two hundred years after the war had "ended", the war still raged on in the hearts and minds of the zebras and ponies outside Hoofington, Equestria.

Published 2014-10-23 14:20:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-23 14:20:03 UTC

Prologue: Liberty

Fallout Equestria: Fallen Eagle

One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots
All I hear is gunshots, this is where the fun stops

I peeked over the concrete barrier I was hiding behind, and raised my battle rifle to fire at a group of approaching zebras. I let loose three shots, before the enemy began to open fire with his hunting rifle again. This was just a wonderful situation, pinned down, my entire squad bloodied and beaten from the past hours of fighting with the Remnants. The legate was really putting the noose around us this time.

Speaking of a noose, I think I met a pony with that name before? Or was it a Minotaur? I’m not entirely sure… I just remember that they were a raider, because-

“SHIT!” I screamed in pain just after a loud ping rang out and a spray of lead bits and sparks sprayed me in the face. A bullet had ricocheted off my bazooka, and splintered in my face. A soft tipped nine millimeter…

Shit, that meant shock troops. Shock troops weren’t necessarily shocking. No, shocking was getting electrocuted, like… What if lightning just struck into a river you were bathing it? Like, not next to you, but a few hundred feet away? I think that would probably hurt a lot more than the shockingness of- SHIT!

Just as I noticed I had trailed off again, another spray of nine millimeter rounds chewed off a corner of my barrier. I peeked around the corner and squeezed off three rounds, effectively flooring the zebra that had done the shooting. I fired two more rounds at the corner of a building about… Ten yards away. No, not yards like the things that hold the grass in front of houses (Granted I had never actually seen one, a yard full of grass that is), but yards as in sections of three feet.

As the second round fired off, my rifle sprang open and the clip made a loud ping as it ejected from the smoking action of the weapon.

“Loading!” I somehow remembered to call as I plucked a clip out of my pouches and clicked it in. Soon, a similar ping followed by the call sounded as the gunfire continued to fly in both directions. The automatic small arms fire of the submachine guns the shock troops carried, combined with the machine gun fire from our side drowned out most sounds of the battle, as Justice’s machine gun spit out hot shell cases onto the ground beside me.

The continuous plinks of each individual shell and link hitting each other in the pile took my mind off the fear of getting killed by a company of zebras. It reminded me a lot of a toy my father had found me when I was just a small filly. I wish I remembered the name of the toy… Or the name of my father…

While I reveling silently in the old and faded memories of my youth, Justice called out to me, and I snapped back to the reality I was so fond of leaving. On the second call of Grenade!, I realized what was going on. I saw the apple shaped bomb on the ground, and frantically tossed it over the barrier, where it exploded in the mud a few feet away, showering us in heated sludge.

After that, I peeked again to fire, and as I did, a hot burst of fire from one of the troop’s submachine gun roared in front of me. It was a ten millimeter this time, and it looked very good as most of the rounds slammed into the concrete. On the final round, I squeezed my trigger as he let go of his. His head exploded into a giant cloud of blood and gore, and I celebrated internally for less than a second when a sharp stabbing lanced through my stomach.

One of the ten millimeter rounds had torn into the concrete and flattened, and tumbled into my stomach through my khaki combat uniform. Blood began to spread from it rapidly as I dropped my rifle to the mud and held onto it. I sat there, eyes wide as blood covered my hooves. I whimpered, and my hooves shook as I patted around my pockets for a vial of med-x.

As I scrambled around, Justice had noticed my distress and had leaned down to care for me. He pressed his hooves to the wound on my stomach so he could try to stop the bleeding. He uncapped a small vial of med-x, and stabbed it into my flank. I sighed as the relief shot over me instantly, and he began to bandage me sloppily as he rushed to get his machine gun running again.

I picked my rifle back up, and checked the chamber. Seven rounds left. It was still enough to kill enough of them. I peeked back to Justice, who was slamming his hoof down on the the belt of the weapon as he reloaded the weapon. Just as he moved to chamber a round, a shot rang out, and a hole popped through his helmet in the front, and clean out the back. The hole smoked as he stood upright for a moment, before he collapsed in a cold heap.

I gasped as I looked at his body, my numbed senses a bit unresponsive to this. I looked to one side of me, and saw another one of my comrades get killed in a much similar way. He fell back off the pile of rubble he was firing from, and rolled onto the street with a stream of blood pouring from his head.

I had to run. It was the only way I would survive this, and it was the only option. I rolled over, and picked up my bazooka, which had fallen after I had gotten shot. I shouldered it and steeled myself with one shallow breath, before peeking over the barrier once more. I saw him, a zebra in a tattered cape that was holding an anti-machine rifle. He was atop a ruined building, and he looked into my eyes as I looked into his.

We pulled each of our triggers at the same time. His muzzle blast the only thing in my vision as my rocket launcher sparked and a deafening hiss flooded my hearing as the trail of smoke followed the bright orange flare of the rocket’s engine.

The bullet impacted first, and it missed me by a hair. Literally a hair. I felt the pressure of the fifty caliber round bending the air beside me as it whizzed by my head. It was surreal. Everything moved in slow motion. I felt the pain of the pressure wave bursting in my ear for what felt like hours. It was blinding, or rather deafening, pain to feel my eardrum tear as blood began to flow freely from my left ear.

As the bullet dug itself into the dirt many feet behind me, I let out the breath I had been holding for a mere second. Just as I did, the rocket exploded against the wall of the building, sending dusty bricks and mortar in a fountain like spray across the street. The sniper fell down as the building collapsed, the last thing that came from his mouth was an agonizing scream as he was crushed under the weight of the ceiling.

As the building came down in my slow motion state, the other zebras recovered from the initial sock and began to open fire again. I ducked below cover, my head bashing against the barrier in my panic to avoid the hail of red hot bullets sent my way. I looked over to Justice’s corpse, and sighed, begging for his forgiveness as I ripped the blood filled helmet from his head and stuck it atop mine. Blood poured down my face as the large helmet (Much too large for me) Slipped down my face. I sighed again, slinging my bazooka across my back, and picking up the rifle once more.

This was it, time to run. Time to take flight and live to fight another day, I took another shallow breath, and peeked over, firing the seven remaining shots blindly to drive the zebras to cover. The ping of the rifle gave me up as I began to run in a blind panic in the opposite direction.

I made good ground from them as they peeked out from cover as I sprinted in the opposite direction for the ruins of this section of Hoofington. I knew that if I got in there, I could lose them in the enervation fields. I knew these ruins, if any place in the whole damn wasteland.

Unfortunately, the zebras had other plans for me, and one of the shock troops opened fire in a last ditch effort to take me down. His nine millimeter sounded like a ripper as it let loose a final burst of fire. I put my head down and pushed my wounded body to it’s absolute limit to get away from them. Again, unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Three of the rounds embedded themselves in my back, not able to penetrate my entire body due to the distance between us. Adrenaline was my only saving grace, as I stumbled but remained on my hooves.

I ran between the buildings like a crazy pony, weaving in and out of broken structures and jumping through busted windows and ducking under fallen poles. I ran for what felt like forever, for miles and miles outside the battleground, until I hit a spot I didn’t know. It wasn’t that I suddenly didn’t know where I was, it was just that for the first time, I had paid enough attention to realize I had run far from where I knew where I was going.

I looked about the street, looking for anything that could tell me where to go. There was nothing, only crumbling buildings, the remains of shell fire from zebra artillery in days long past. The brick and mortar buildings had been pulverized to the point where only one or two walls, and a small portion of roof stood. It was mostly rubble at this point though. Nothing to indicate position, or even direction. It was getting darker and darker by the minute though. That was both a blessing and a curse. At least they wouldn’t see me as well, but that also meant the temperature would drop/

I shook my head and headed for a building that would give sufficient cover from anyone who may or may not track me down as I planned my next move. I got in the ruins, just in time for a small cloud of dust to get kicked up by a slight wind that flowed through the streets like waves on the beach, or ripples in a pond. Funny I remember that, because I remember being taught the basics of explosives with a small pond by the house I grew up in. Or… Was it where I received basic training? Where was it?

I sat down to think for a few minutes while I had the time. Well, so I thought anyways. The wind had been steadily picking up, and combined with my thinking, I had completely lost hearing. Not that I was deaf, I just forgot to maintain situational awareness. If I had. I may have heard the steps before they were upon me.

There was a crumbling noise of concrete, or was it bricks? I just remember the crumbling, and then a quick blur of movement before I was tackled to the ground by a heavy force. My rifle fell aside, and I landed on my stomach, the assailant landing a few feet away with a skid and a huff of effort. I looked to the side to identify my attacker, but he was wearing a cloak, probably a stealth cloak, so I couldn’t see him coming.

We were both in action less than a second after those thoughts, me rolling aside as he lunged out to stomp my prone form for the kill. As I rolled, I hit a pile of bricks and was brought to a sudden stop. As I stopped, I lie on my back looking up at him as he lunged out again. I reached down and grabbed my knife in a hoof clumsily, and tried to thrust it out against him. He quickly knocked my hoof aside and the knife made a clink as it was knocked into a pile of rubble beside us. As he watched the knife land, it gave me a quick second to deliver a blow to his stomach with my rear hooves. This caused him to reel back in surprise, allowing me to get to my hooves quickly. The respite was short lived, as he growled in fury and lunged out at me to deliver a quick blow to the chest. I dodged right just as I was about to be struck, causing me to stumble over a brick that had been resting on the ground for who knows how long. My clumsiness would be my downfall I was sure, as he jumped at me quickly while I stumbled about. As he did so, I raised a hoof to block him, and he slammed into my chest.

When I came to my senses after the blow, I looked about to see where I was. I was lying on the dirt of the street, and there was nothing around me except for a few bricks. Where was that zebra?

I swear, my luck is just shitty as can be. He walked out of the hole he had made with me in the building not even a second later, wielding a nine millimeter submachinegun. I moved slowly, as not to arouse suspicion as he came over to me, presumably to finish me off. I took a brick in my hooves, it’s rough surface grinding against my fur in an odd way. It was almost ticklish, the way it rubbed against my fur and made these little scratching noises and- Shit…

I felt the cold steel against the side of my head, and that seemed to be what broke me from my revelry of internally laughing over how a brick felt. I heard him cock the bolt, and that was when I made my strike. I swung the brick, hitting him on the bridge of his snout with it. The weak stone crumbled, but struck with enough force to make a solid crunch as it impacted, a small fountain of blood pouring out his nostrils as he reeled back.

As he reeled back and held his face, I moaned in pain as the gunshot in my stomach came back full force. I had forgotten about it in my panic, but there it was. I tried my hardest to ignore it as I delivered a buck to his chest. He fell to his side, and let go of his nose to look up at me. He wasn’t a shock troop, he was just a kid, probably just turned seventeen. I stood over him, entrenching shovel in my hooves as he looked up pleadingly to me.

“Sorry. It’s nothing personal, just business.” I said quietly, a tear falling from my eyes as I brought the sharpened edge of the tool down across his neck, causing a large chunk of flesh to tear away. I watched as the mangled bits of his windpipe, spine and other flesh wash away in a river of blood. It was strangely calming to my nerves to see the gentle flow of the blood. It may seem bad, but flowing makes me feel calm, even from blood.

I’m an odd sort, obviously. I mean, calmed by blood, can’t remember my family, my squad mates are just nameless ponies, and now… Now this was just a giant clusterfuck. I’m now lost and-

A drop of water hit my head. Then another. Then another. I looked up just in time for a sudden Hoofington downpour to pour down onto me, flooding my eyes and drenching my uniform in seconds. My boots filled with water, even as tightly laced as they were. Tight laces, something of a history with me. Funny I remember that, because back in basic training (If it could even be called that) I used to lace up my boots to the point where my hooves would ache when I unlaced them. I remember the way they would swell and get irritated when I took them out of the boots.

The rain had thoroughly soaked me as I foolishly sat in deep thought in the middle of the dirty road. I sighed and walked through the hole in the wall. I looked for the helmet, my knife and my rifle. I found the rifle first, as it was the largest. It was a bit dented on the stock, but other than that, it had suffered no damage. The knife was another story. When i picked it up, the blade had a large chunk taken out of it, and it was quite nearly useless.

I sighed, and leaned up against the corner. It was going to be a long night, that was for sure. I pulled the bolt back and ejected the clip. Still full? I don’t remember reloading… But it would do. I slid the clip back in and closed the bolt, before I picked up the helmet that had fell aside. It had some dust from the broken bricks, but it was still looking fine. Well… Except the place where Justice’s brains had been blown out of it. The hole was massive… Fifty calibers were big…

It was going to be a long night… A long week… A long month… A long year…

It was going to be a long fight, little did I know...