Fallout Equestria: Prospector

Through the bridge there was I, pulling a wagon as big as myself. By its side was the so-famed Stable-Tec logo, glowing with a faint green light from old times. I don’t have idea of how old this is, but this is my best finding in my entire career. And I hope it really is, the price to retrieve it was really too costly. I couldn’t breathe, my legs trembled, hooves scratching the rust-covered patchwork bridge as I took step after step. Despite the bandages over my chest, little drips of blood marked the path I took, the bullet hole bleeding profusely. “…F…u…ck…” I could do it, Celestia damn it.

And there she was, staring at me with that damning reproachful gaze, as if I was a lil’ filly that broke a vase and tried to glue it back together. It was obvious that the wagon was the only thing that kept me standing, but I would not be the first to surrender to the pain. Not that it was usual for me to be shot at. “So, how was it?” She smirked. That mare could get on my nerves when she wanted to, damn. “…Better… than… I th…ought…” I tried to raise my head above every shame that my bullet-ridden body could.

That’s when I passed out, obviously. I took back my conscience already in a hospital bed, with a vial of healing serum dripping slowly in my veins. “Finally awake, huh?” The black stallion with a huge brown mustache spoke, without taking his eyes from a spreadsheet. “Yeah… I never thought that I would be back in such little time, Healing Surge.” I tried to look around, but my neck was immobilized. “Relax a second, get your bearings.”

I sighed. “Fine. Where’s that wagon that I brought?” The whole left side of my body was numb because of the serum, so if I really got up I’d just flop into the ground like a slapstick routine. He coughed a little before answering. “You know… Rosy Coral… apprehended it.” This time, it was me who coughed. “What?! Oh, come on, Coral! Damn!”

“Calm down, Golden Patch! Fits of rage will only worsen your condition.” And the worst is that I knew it. That’s what’s worse with being a medic pony: I knew how serious those wounds were, and I could do damn about it without proper equipment. It was good to know that we had someone better than me, at least. “Ok, Surge, I’ll have to settle this later…” I crossed my front legs, sighing. He finally took his eyes from the spreadsheet. “How did you got shot this time? It was a serious bullet woun—“

“Three bullets hit my left flank in the height of my ribs, one of them shattering a rib, the other two perforating my lung. I took a shot of anesthetic potion and I had to drink two healing potions just to get here.” I described, giving a lot of emphasis in the medication. That was a lot of medicine for the condition I was in, and that was half of my reserves. “Yes, I got traces of the anesthetic potion in your blood… or what remained of it. But you didn’t tell me how you got shot.”

He got me on that one. “I… erm… It was nothing, really. Just—shot myself accidentally, yeah. Dropped my sub.” He stared at me, obviously not believing a single word I said. “Sure. You’re obviously the most fumbling pony in Friendship City.” I tried to calm him. “Yeah, hah… hah… hah… oh it hurts to laugh…”

“Anyway, Mr. Fumble, you’ll be discharged today. I retrieved the bullets and put your rib back into place, so you’ll only need to drink a healing potion per day during a week. Don’t, and I repeat, don’t strain your body, or your lung will get a lot worse. And I hope you know how bad it was.” The stallion dove right back into the spreadsheet. “Sure… Thanks, Surge.” He just waved, and I took my time.

=-=-=-=

“Come… ON! Rosy Coral! You know I need that! I took three bullets for that wagon!” My ribs were killing me. “Doesn’t matter, Patchie. You are not getting the wagon back, it’s Friendship City’s now.” I held myself to not jump in her neck. Breathing hard, I hit the wall with my right hoof, echoing the impact over the security room located inside the Friendship Statue’s torch. “Ok, you won. What the hell do you want for the wagon?!” She sat in her bed, smirking stupidly. “You’ll tell me exactly how you got that wagon and how you got shot.”

I sighed. “…Fine.”

“There’s a nice little settlement not really far from here, called ‘Heat’s Kingdom’, or something like that. Well, there’s a little unproductive farm enough for maintaining everyone living there. When I entered the place, I was greeted by a little white foal with orange mane that presented himself as Solar Flare. He was the son of the King Heat, that owned everything in that ‘province’. It was pretty stupid, actually. Anyway, I was presented to that ‘King Heat’ by his son not much after I arrived. As ‘royalty’, he’s expected to have power and he dominated the whole farm with a steel hoof. There were two fillies, I think it was his daughters, and an older mare by the name of Desert Heat. Don’t ask me.

After a little meal with them, which weren’t half bad, I spoke about my profession and offered one of my services to them. In exchange, I would pay for the meal and a place to sleep before going on my way. They accepted, and I took care of one of the fillies, that stepped on a rusty nail a few days before and was getting feverish. It was an ugly wound, actually, took me some hours to brew the potion. After embalming her wounded hoof, I went to sleep and everyone was happy. But, as you know, this is a Wasteland, not some foal show. I continued my journey by noon, thanking them for the reception and the treatment.

After some hours, I found a trail that closely resembled a pair of wheels, so I followed it. By the depth of the trail left, the wagon that created it was really heavy. And what I found at the end was, for better or worse, a lot more than I thought I would find: The wagon had that strange green glow in the Stable-Tec logo and a dead Steel Ranger by its side. I couldn’t open his armor to examine the body, but I got the wagon and I headed back, no need to scarvenge some ruins when you get that kind of treasure.

It was too damn heavy for me to pull without straining myself, and that explained the need for that power armored earth pony. I planned to get back in the Heat’s Kingdom and take another night of sleep, halfway here. And how surprised was I when a group of raiders were attacking them? I tell you: None. I took my submachine gun, that pipe shooter that you made to me, and entered the place as quiet as I can.

As you damn already know, I can’t be silent, the whole universe conspire against me for this. My saddlebag hit against one of the shelves, dropping a metal plate, and that was exactly what saved them, as it damned me. I ran as fast as I could from inside the house, one of the raiders shooting with a terrible shotgun, destroying the window. I jumped outside and took cover behind the wall exactly when a wall of flames licked my tail. ‘Damn, an unicorn!’ I thought, gasping for breath when an earth pony with a crowbar in his mouth jumped across the window, trying to flank me.

By reflex, I kicked him while he was in the air, what made him hit his head in the window arc. I turned around and took the crowbar from his unconscious mouth, giving the exactly opening that damn unicorn was waiting for, and there was that, the bitch shot me with a 9mm. Three. Fucking. Times. As I felt my flesh burning in my ribs, I couldn’t breathe as well, fully knowing that he hit me in the lungs. I emptied the clip in her, shooting her long after she died.

With adrenaline running fast in my blood, I covered the bullet wounds as fast as I could with some magic bandages and ran upstairs, to the fillies’ bedroom. Ignoring the pain that was slowly coming to me, I kicked down the door and knocked the last raider with the crowbar.  He was trying to rape one of them, goddesses. They did everything they could to help me, gave me some provisions and thanked like I was some kind of saint.

The worst part is that I knew that if I slept before getting treatment, I’d drown in my own blood. So, with help of that little foal, I strapped the wagon in my back, took an anesthetic potion and carried on. And here I am. Happy now?”

“And you said it was better than you thought… Were you talking about the wagon?”

“Obviously! I guarantee you that it wasn’t because I was shot!” I noticed just now that I’ve raised my voice, so I cleaned my throat and apologized. “So, will you give back my damn wagon now or what?”

“…You’ve earned it, Patchie. It’s in Cargo Four, look it up. Tell them that I send you.” I turned in the direction of the staircase, sighing with relief. Just then I noticed that I was tense, so I tried to relax my shoulders and, taking some steps away, I whispered. “Thanks for rescuing me.” She smirked. “T’was nothing.”

=-=-=-=

“Hey, Prospector, what’s up?” He smiled stupidly. “Did you find another old boot or what?” They laughed through their visors. I laughed back, with as much sarcasm as I could create in that situation. “Ha ha ha yeah, Brilliant joke, Prickle.” That stung him. He was one of my best friends and, now, as a Security Pony, he lives up to the name. His silver mane, long as a douchebag would wear, shook with the sudden stop at laughing. “Now get me my wagon, Rosy Coral sent me.”

“Fine. Hey, guys, get that strange glowy wagon!” he screamed over his shoulder, staring back at me. “I just don’t hit you because you’re wounded.”

“I just don’t hit you because you’d get wounded.” I smiled back, as he stood there without an answer. “What, do you need some embalming potion, for that burn? I’m a medic pony, you know.” I got closer to his face, my smile even wider. Then my wagon arrived. “Oh, thanks. I’ll be going now.”

I was sure he would get a good answer later, what will make him even angrier. Feeling better with myself, I strapped the damn heavy wagon in my back and as fast as I could I returned to my cabin. For my own luck, my cabin was in the same floor than Cargo Four, and for everyone else’s luck, it wasn’t that far away, as the wagon occupied the whole corridor and I was slow as a slug.

After dragging the wagon back to my cabin, I threw myself in the bed, regretting to do so after my ribs hurt like I hit them with a steel pipe. After some moments of gasping for breath, I went for the scissors in my desk, cutting slowly every bandage over my wound. Because of the slow treatment, those three marks would stay as scars, scars that only a loser would get. I stared at myself in the mirror, my tangled brown mane partially covering my face, my golden fur stained with old blood and dirt. Again I looked to my tail, its tip burned. I sighed. In one big gulp, I drank the healing potion and looked at the bullet holes again, observing them to continue to exist. “You shouldn’t have happened.” As if they would answer me. I couldn’t care less if they would, anyway. I released the buck of my saddlebags and slowly floated it on my desk, getting my wrench and approaching, finally, the strange wagon. It took me some time to find where the door was, as it was above the metallic box.  I used a little ladder to observe what I was doing. Screw after screw I took all four of them, each one as big as a carrot, and put them on the desk. When I took out the screws they unlocked some kind of platform which started to glow exactly like the box’ sides, indicating four hoofsteps.

I jumped above the wagon and, cautiously, put each of my hooves in their respective glowing light, when I heard whistles and a column of smoke shot out under me,  blocking my vision. That’s only when I tried to blow the smoke with my front hooves that I noticed that the platform locked me. “Gah! Damn!” I forced my right hoof up, whining in pain in that stupid wound and swearing for being so weak. The platform descended, completely hiding me inside the box, that closed itself after the last strand of my mane was inside that little prison.

That wasn’t what I was expecting. The smoke was ventilated outside, and oxygen was bombed inside. I could hear myself breathing while the machinery surrounding me twisted and turned and, sometimes, whistled. Then the monitor mere inches from my head turned on, blinding my used-to-the-darkness eyes. I tried, instinctively, to take a step back, and I was brutally reminded that I was locked when I nearly sprained my back hoof.

“Welcome to the Stable-Tec PipBuck 3000A Interface Install.” The strange device wrote in the monitor in green letters against the black background and spoke to me in a soothing, calming female voice. “We, personal of Stable-Tec, are happy for your purchase of this high-technology experimental project.” It looked like there’d be another reason for the Steel Rangers to get this, after all. Experimental and High-Technology in the same phrase usually means pre-war tech that’s pretty valuable for the canned ones. “As of now, we’re examining your DNA and processing the best model for your comfort.” Two more monitors came to life, next to the original. One of them showed a double-helix, while the other flipped through hundreds of images. I couldn’t understand any of those, besides every one of them looking like it's worth tens of thousands of caps.

Suddenly, I felt a small prick in every hoof, a warm sensation running through my body, unlike anything I’ve felt before. “Unicorn detected. Checking Cutie Mark…” Two ducts expanded from the walls and locked my flank exactly in my cutie mark, and I simply couldn’t move, or resist, to anything. “The Cutie Mark is composed of a medical bandage. Profession acquired: Medic. Calculating…” The ducts went back to where they belong, freeing my body. I never saw anything like that, nor heard stories of any pre-war tech that was so advanced besides the ones inside the Stables.

“Model: 3052A r.272.” As suddenly as it stopped blinking the “calculating” from before, something pressed against my left front leg, closing itself around it. It felt like a million of microscopic needles dancing around my flesh, cutting and stabbing my skin in a circular motion that, for some reason, simply didn’t hurt. Then it stopped, I was thrown out of the wagon through two doors in its back and hit my back in the door, writhing in pain. I couldn’t feel my left leg, and the pain from my ribs came back in full force after that impact.

My head started to spin, the back of my head burned through my eyes, forcing me to close them while the strange orchestra of my heart resounded in my ears. Again, I heard myself breathing, in a world without another sound, without anypony. I felt like I’d puke.

I woke up some minutes later, a little pool of my own blood in front of me, and I felt like shit. My left leg was weighted down, but I felt it at least. My ribs were worse than ever, and I could bet that I broke another that pierced my lung again. I got up as slowly as I could, not that I was strong enough to get up faster than that in my actual condition. “…fuck…” The taste of rust from my own blood still riddled my mouth.

It was then that I noted that there was something in my vision. “…what is this…?” I didn’t need to focus to see it; it was like I was looking to a little magic pony in my head. I tilted my head to the sides, observing that it adjusted to my position so that I always see it straight. The pony in my head was looking pretty ill, and his body, fully fragmented, showed his torso in a red color, while everything else was white, with a slight shade of green surrounding it.

I heard another whistle, but this one came from the device in my leg, that I presumed was that PipBuck thing. In his metallic body, shiny and clean (something really rare around here), was his identification beside a grating of my cutie mark. “3052 Alpha revision.272… What the hell does this mean, anyway?” The strange device had a black screen like that monitor, with green letters and a little drawing of the same pony that was in my head, smiling to the user.

A tab in the display indicated ‘Notes’, so that’s where I went to. With a simple click of a button with magic, it displayed a list of three new notes. One of them was exactly the name of the Pipbuck, the second one was some kind of audio named ‘Stable-Tec Medic Presentation’ and the third one unnamed. I dragged myself to my bed, laying down the best I could in my condition, and clicked on the first one.

“PipBuck 3052 Alpha revision.272

The 3000 series are one of the most reliable PipBucks ever made, with their incredible resilience and great conditioning, requiring few to none repairs over the course of years. While aiming for the best, we, from Stable-Tec, created the Alpha models, marked by the A in their names. This is a 3000A of the 50 series, model 2, which includes a modified S.A.T.S. for precise and fast movement and the Stable-Tec Medic add-on, besides the E.F.S. and Inventory Sorting of the 3000 series.

We hope you enjoy this technologic wonder!

”

There weren’t, in any place, instructions for any of the functions described, besides that presentation for the Medic add-on. I focused again on the pony and it was exactly the same way, with a red body and looking bad. This time, three topics were displayed by his side, each one of them indicating ‘Bullet Wound’. Yeah, that was me, alright. I went back to the ‘Notes’ menu and clicked in the presentation, that was thirty seconds long if that recording info is correct. The voice that came was really soothing, and I was damn sure that it was the same voice inside the wagon. And that was a pretty familiar voice, for some reason.

“The Stable-Tec Medic add-on envisioned a new tool for every medic pony in the fields and, with the help of the Ministry of Peace, this is now a reality. This add-on makes possible the fast diagnosis of many, if not all, kinds of wounds and conditions, while the user can administrate the best course of treatment in seconds with the new S.A.T.S. that accelerates the reflexes of the use—“

Looks like the recording would go for a little more, but it was too damage to continue.

Well, the diagnosis part was really functional, at least in me. I took a breath, felling every inch of my body hurting like a stampede trampled me, there’s only one note remaining now, that one unnamed. I clicked it and “How are you doin… What is this bloo… What is this in your leg?!” I turned my eyes to the door, where Rosy Coral stood, following the wagon, then the blood that I puked earlier, then to my leg, where the PipBuck proudly resided. I sighed. “It looks like a PipBuck, doesn’t it?” I raised my foreleg, showing it to her. The pair of pink eyes flew through the apparatus, then to the wagon, and back to me again. “Wha… Ho… Whe… Why?”

“I don’t know, there’s a strange machine inside the box that—“ She jumped in me, locking my front legs under her hooves. That hurt so much that the pony in the display jumped. “Let me use it!” She exclaimed anxiously. “I hate it when you get excited about something… I’m wounded, remember?” I tried to say under my breath, when she jumped back to the wagon. “How do I use it too?”

“Well, I unlocked its roof and there’s some lights indicating where to stand and—“

“No, there isn’t!”

“…What?” I focused in the Stable-Tec logo besides it, and it was now completely black, not even a glimpse of light from before. “I think it… eh… ran out of energy? You’re the one that’s good with mechanics, not me. I’m just a medic.”

“Oh.” She glow in her eyes changed drastically, and even when she’s bitchy as she usually is, she doesn’t deserve to have her hopes destroyed like that. “Well, we can always have another opportunity…”

“Yeah… Hey, there’s a note here, unnamed. Maybe it is about the wagon?” I indicated to her, again rising my front leg. She ran as fast as she could in all that security equipment to my side, shaking in anxiety. “Relax, girl! Damn, it’s not like it’s that important…”

“(no title)

b  car ful sis, it s dang rous to  nt r that stabl .

it looks lik  a storag , som thing about th  ministry of aw som

no on  knows  xactly what it is, so watch out for 106.

“

“It looks like the letter ‘e’ is bugged…” I commented, as there’s any other use of the letter besides the title, that I think it’s made by the PipBuck itself. I looked to Rosy Coral, who looked like she’d burst at any moment. “Don’t tell me you want to—“

“We will search for this ‘Stable 106’!”

“What about your job? You waited two years for the place you’re now, you can’t let everything just to search for a Stable that, for now, we don’t even know if exists!”

“This PipBuck is new, isn’t it? So it means this is an official message lost in your specific PipBuck! It’s golden, Patchie!”

“…What, you think I’m Daring Doo, running around Stables and jumping over traps and whatever?” I stared her with the most incredulous face I could produce while in so much pain.

“Aren’t you ‘The Prospector’? Uuuh-“

“Celestia damn it, Coral, not you too.” It’s not their fault I was stupid when younger, yeah. I think I deserve this, after all.

“Come on, it’ll be an adventure!”

“…That could get us killed.”

“But aren’t you curious?” She got me on that one. I couldn’t stop but wonder what there’s inside that Stable, as the Ministry of Awesome from hundreds of years ago didn’t actually do anything, or so we’re told. Having that kind of information in hands was really valuable and… “Okay, I am. Let me, at least, recover first, what do you think?”

She hugged me, pressing even more my wounded ribs. “Oh goddesses now it’s broken again!” I shrieked, besides the pony in my head telling me anything about broken ribs. She laughed and finally let me go, hopping happily back to her post. I sighed, observing the Stable-Tec logo again. “What the hell is this message, uh?” As if it would respond.

I leaned down again and I closed my eyes for a second. I needed to sleep after that much. And so did I, in a dreamless night.