Fallout: Equestria- Museum Relic

by Timeless Toaster

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Crossover
Length: 3492

After being encased in his armor for 200 Years, Odin wakes to find that he...is a statue in a museum?

Stalliongrad: the center for mass production of Equestrian military equipment; weapons, ammunition, battle saddles; they made it all.
Which made it a perfect target for the fury of the Zebra war machine.
Projekt Odin, or Project One, turned an ordinary soldier into the most devastating piece Equestrian Armed Forces equipment ever produced: The PKV-1 Heavy Tank.
On The Final Day, Odin, the one and only PKV-1 to be successfully deployed, watched as bale fire rained from the skies and destroy his home.
Two-hundred years later, he wakes up…
As the center piece for a museum dedicated to the Battle of Stalliongrad.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-01-16 00:56:54 UTC

And the Skies Shone Bright with a Green Flame

“Stalliongrad’s winter season is a cruel and an unbearable one; but we manage to get by just fine. However, when you’re out here for hours on end, fighting against Trench Hoof and for your very life against an enemy that has managed to adapt to the snowy terrain, it becomes the very definition of Tartarus itself. The stories of old say the Mistress of Winter is forgiving, but I think that’s a load of chyort.” -Second Lieutenant Gorizont, Northern Equestrian Armed Forces, 5th Army, 4th Battalion, 12th Armored Infantry Division.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

The slow groaning of machinery was the first thing I heard as I stood there, sleep starting to depart my body and mind. My world sparked to life and began flashing system reports across my vision, a checklist going from red to green as my systems reported back to the mainframe. Once the technological gibberish was cleared from my sight, I could finally look about Charging Bay One as I gave a yawn. The only door leading out of the room cycled open to allow a pair of unicorn ponies to enter my room. They were looking over their clipboards and muttering to each other as they approached me. Heavy bags sat under their eyes, signalling lack of sleep. One of them seemed a bit jumpy, probably under stress.

“Good morning Odin. How did you sleep?” asked the non-jumpy unicorn, a mare with heavy framed glasses.

“I slept fine. There is a bit of lag with the wake-up process.” I spoke, my voice monotonous and mechanical.

“Lagging is bound to happen. We haven’t perfected the smaller processes quite yet. Are you ready?” asked the jumpy unicorn, a buck.

“What are my orders?” I asked immediately.

“General Zaryazhat'  has ordered a frontal assault on the Zebra lines, as retaliation for the heavy artillery bombardment last night. You are to support the advancing infantry. Understood?” asked the buck.

“Orders acknowledged. Ready for deployment.” I said, watching as the mare nodded. She reached a hoof over and pushed a button on a large computer bank. Around me, the sounds of hissing air and hydraulics began as the charging cables attached to the base of my head were automatically removed and retreated. The two unicorns fell in beside me as I left my charging platform and exited the room. The three of us entered a new room, the two unicorns going off to the computer banks within. As for me, I approached a set of five mirrors that were set up in a small arch. I stood on the platform and looked at the reflection in the mirrors.

Looking back at me was a large buck; well built and hulking. His mane was nothing but a brown buzz cut that sat on top a porcelain head of fur. A twin set of cyan eyes stared back, the pupils permanently dilated, looking like dolls eyes. Beneath the fur and skin were sharp edges of metallic reinforcements on the joints and ligaments. Resting on areas like the shoulders, neck, and back were holes that were used for placing armor and equipment. I glanced down to the bucks’ cutie mark, a golden hammer and sickle in front a background of green wreaths flanking the tools.

“Odin. Are you ready?” asked the mare from behind me.

“Da. Begin the suiting process.” I ordered. Immediately, the floor around the platform opened up to allow robotic appendages that clasped large sections of armor to extend up from the floor and begin attaching and securing the armor to my frame. I could feel the armor entering the slots, magnetically securing within me and moving with my body. A robot arm rose before me, the opened form of a helmet coming closer. From within, sensor patches launched and attached to my face, reeling the helmet in. Once it was over my face, the helmet closed around my head and powered up, connecting to the rest of the armor on my form. Once again, a systems check list went from red to green and vanished as the new systems reported to my mainframe.

I looked back at my reflection in the mirror, looking over the tank like armor that now encased my body. My cyan eyes were now covered up by a pair of midnight black lenses. The armor was painted to match a winter environment, but due to heavy use and combat, the paint had worn away heavily at the edges to reveal the steel gray beneath. On my back, sitting at an angle, was the mounting base for a large weapon, while a smaller mount sat at the same angle on the left side.

Turning, my hoofs slammed with metallic weight as I faced the two unicorns. They had beaming smiles as they stared at me.

“I never get tired of seeing that armor…” said the mare happily in an almost dreamlike tone. The buck nodded and the two stepped aside to let me pass. The three of us left together once again and approached a room labeled ‘Armory’.

“We will wait out here. Once you have gathered your weapons, leave the Depot and report to General Zaryazhat' for your mission briefing.” said the buck. I nodded and opened the Armory door, stepping inside. The Quartermaster sat at his desk, sipping on a cup of coffee as it floated in a light green field of magic. Spotting me, the unicorn put down his coffee and approached me.

“Dobroye utro, Odin. How may I help you today?” asked the Quartermaster.

“I’m being deployed to provide support to our troops. I need my loadout.” I said simply. The buck nodded and led me to the back wall of the armory. Resting on a reinforced wall was a 122 mm cannon painted to match my armor, but was equally worn down and scorched from heavy usage. Attached to the breach was an automatic loading system, with an ammo rack for up to fifteen AP shells. Below the large cannon was a DP-28 HMG, or known as to the normal troops ‘The Pancake Gun’, due to its’ large circular ammo magazine. The Quartermasters’ horn was enveloped in a light green glow as the DP-28 was levitated to the smaller weapon mount on my left side. Once secured and hooked up to the Auto-Ammo system, he hefted the 122 mm cannon and slowly floated it over, attaching it to the larger weapon mount. Once I was set, he double-checked my loadout and gave me a nod. I gave a ‘thank-you’ and did as the two unicorn technicians told me earlier. Once I left the vehicle depot, I made a straight line for the Generals’ command tent. The open-wall tent was abuzz with activity; ponies were sending and receiving various orders from command to the front and vice-versa. Standing at a planning table, General Zaryazhat' spotted me and signaled me over.

Ponies made sure to watch where they were going, as to not run into my cannon, although it has happened in the past. Some even clothes-lined themselves on the barrel as they ran to a superior officer with an order. And they blamed me for being in their way!

Not my fault I’m a walking tank with a very large gun.

Approaching General Zaryazhat', the cream colored earth pony mare with an eyepatch saluted me. Due to my armament, I simply gave a nod in return. “Morning Odin. Are you ready for today's mission?” she asked in a voice soft as silk, but with an authoritative tone.

“Yes ma’am. What am I needed for?” I asked. General Zaryazhat' simply pointed a hoof at the planning table. To the east sat the Zebra frontlines, bent in a heavy arch around our smaller front to the west. In the area between were markings for trenches and platoons for both sides.

“We’re going to break their ever closing grasp. First, we’re going to use blitzkrieg tactics to shatter their trench forces, send them scattering. Once they’re out of the way, we’re continuing straight up the middle to break the arch, then fan out to engage with the flanks.” Zaryazhat' said, moving our pieces around to show how the plan would work out. I stood there silently, examining the plan. Zaryazhat' looked at me, an eyebrow raised above her eyepatch. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to split our forces, and pinch the arch towards the center? Then we can regroup enmass and engage the pinched forces. They’d be forced to fight a battle on three sides. The center forces can slowly advance to further pinch the enemy while the flanks press in.” I said, trying to describe my plan the best I could so Zaryazhat' can picture it. She glared at me with her one eye. Although I was at least three of her high, and two of her wide, her glare struck me right at my heart and made me feel lesser than her; as though I were an insect beneath her hoof.

“Are you questioning my tactics, machine?” she asked, putting venom into the end of the question.

I gulped a bit as her glare continued to burn me. “Nyet, ma’am. I am simply offering an alternate course of action to reduce the chances of high casualties. With your plan, the enemy flanks can easily encircle us when we break their center and crush us.” I answered back. Zaryazhat' slammed a hoof on the table.

“Are you forgetting who your commanding officer is? I can order to have you shut down for good. We are short on troops and supplies. Even if we did go through with your idea, we simply cannot execute it due to our lacking forces. We will take what we have and go with my plan. Is that understood?” Zaryazhat' asked angrily. Silence fell between us and lingered for the longest time. “You are simply a war machine, built to follow my orders. You do not give them. Now, leave my tent and report to the front. We attack in three hours.” she ordered.

Not wanting to create a smaller battle within her command tent, I turned away from General Zaryazhat' and began to leave. Suddenly, I stopped and turned a bit to look over my cannon at her. “When the reports return to this tent, and state that thousands of our troops have been slain, they are going to ask who ordered for this act of suicide and recklessness. Then they are all going to look at you, and you will be known as the Commissioner for the Damned.” I spat.

General Zaryazhat' simply stared at me with her one eye, unspeaking.

Damn near Unfeeling.

Without another word, I left the command tent, bound for the frontlines.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

The skies above held the look of an incoming snow storm. The clouds were a dark gray and approaching from the north, coming fast. I stood with some technicians and engineers as they went through the process of mounting me to a tank bed, so that I may move easier around the battlefield. As they worked me over, the officer in charge approached me.

The officer was an earth pony buck named Sergeant Slava. He was adorned with a large battle saddle rigged with twin PPSh-41 machine guns. His silver eyes held the look of a pony who has seen and experienced combat.

“So, you’re the big guy helping us out?” he asked me, looking me over with an approving nod.

“Yes sir. Will I be provided with additional forces?” I asked curiously, hoping for a yes.

“As a matter of fact, you are!” Slava said, turning and signalling for somepony to approach. In a couple of seconds, he was joined by a large earth pony stallion. He had no mane, but the visible signs of a five o'clock shadow on his jaw and cheeks. His battle saddle was equipped with only a single minigun, with a smooth-bore shotgun on the opposite side. A single ammo belt was slung across his hulking frame, and his cutie mark was a half-piece of a sandwich. “Meet Corporal Sandvich.” Slava said, reaching up and patting the soldiers’ shoulder. Sandvich simply stared at me, our eyes level with each other.

“Puny tank pony better not slow Sandvich down.” he said in a deep, rumbling voice as he turned away from the Sergeant and I.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just being his usual self.” Slava said rolling his eyes.

“Oh, so he always acts like everypony else is below him?” I asked.

“That’s just how he is. He’s used to working on his own as he cuts down the enemy with Sasha.” Slava continued. I guess he could tell I was a bit confused at the second name, so he rolled his hoof as he tried to explain. “He named his minigun Sasha and is very territorial of her. Never lets anypony else touch her, let alone use her.”

"Ah, I know that feeling all too well." I said, patting the cannon mounted to my saddle. "I'm the only one who can use Do Svidaniya. Because I am the only one who can carry her." I said with a small chuckle.

"Why name your cannon Do Svidaniya?" Slava asked with a raised eyebrow.

"When the Zebras see me and they run, I yell "Do Svidaniya!". It's the last thing they hear." I said with a toneless voice. Slava blinked a bit and swallowed a bit.

"Well, nopony said you aren't morbid..." He mumbled as he turned to an approaching Private. The two saluted and the Private passed Slava a piece of paper. Slava looked over the paper briefly before his face hardened. The paper was folded up and placed in his combat saddle bag. "Looks like the time has come Odin. I'll go ready the troops. You got get mounted on your bed." Slava ordered. I simply nodded and the two of us turned away, set to accomplish our duties.

~     ~     ~     ~     ~

About half an hour later, I was outfitted to the tank bed custom built to transport me during combat. My treads rolled along the snowy dirt road as two thousand troops marched in unison behind me. In the distance, I could spot the columns of smoke that still rose from areas where minor skirmishes broke out hours before. As we moved, we passed by returning survivors from the front; they looked like they've been through Tartarus itself. The severally wounded were being carried in a field of telekinetic magic by unicorn medics, while the rest donned bloody gauze wrappings around areas of their bodies. A couple soldiers gazed at me as I passed by, asking why they weren't outfitted with a PKV-1 before they went to battle.

After the column of survivors passed by, we eventually began to pass by small Machine Gun nests; the eyes of the gunners locked on the wayward horizon, waiting for the moment the Zebras struck. Fifteen minutes later, the land began to slope downwards towards the assault trenches that marked the frontlines. The column of troops split off from behind me and began to file into the trench as I drove up to the edge of the trench. The trench was at least six feet wide; luckily my hull is twenty-two feet long.

Passing over it will be a synch.

As I sat there and waited for the whistle to attack, Sergeant Slava hopped up onto a stack of crates, his face hard and his eyes steeled.

"My Brat'yas! Today, we drive the stripped menace from our homeland!"

A roar of cheers responded.

"Today, we spill their blood, just as they have spilled the blood of our fellow comrades!"

Another roar of cheers.

"On this day, we claim victory for-!" But just as he was about to finish the sentence, his throat exploded into a flume of blood and gore; the sound of a heavy rifle report echoing through the air. Slava's eyes went wide as shock began to overtake his senses, forcing his limbs to go limp, dropping him from the crates. His body landed in a crumpled heap and his blood began to stain the snow red as steam began to rise. Just as his body fell, the soldiers in the trenches ducked under the trench lip to ensure that they were not the next target of the sniper. Silence fell over us as we waited for the Zebras to attack.

But it seemed as if they were waiting for us to attack.

I lurched forward and turned to my left, gazing over the anxious troops. As I came to a stop, I could feel all eyes on me as they waited for me to say something. I turned my hull and set my cannon forward, double-checking the ammo feed for Do Svidaniya and the DP-28. Gritting my teeth, I revved my 600 horsepower engine, the roar of the motor echoing through the air.

"ATTACK!"

My hull lurched forward, the engine pouring everything it had into my treads as I surged forward. Behind me, the troops all gave a war cry that could shatter the heavens as they poured out of the trench as a single wave. There was a sudden thud on the deck of my hull and I looked back to see Sandvich spinning up the barrel of Sasha, his face contorted in a bellowing rage.

"BRING ME TINY BABY BUCKS TO FIGHT!" he roared over my engine.

Up ahead I could see the Zebra assault trench surging towards me. A Zebra poked his head up, then retreated with a look of sheer terror on his face. Suddenly, a hailstorm of magic-laced bullets began to zip through the air, most of them aimed at me as the Zebras tried to stop my charge. As I raced up and over the trench, Sandvich hopped off and dove into the heart of the Zebras, his minigun tearing into the ranks as he blew them away with savage bucks and kicks. Screeching to a stop, I focused my cannon on a set of pillboxes the Zebras captured from us a month ago. The cannon let out a thunderous explosion as the 122 mm round raced out of the barrel. The round penetrated the pillbox, then exploded in an inferno within the concrete bunker.

I could see the Zebras within racing out of the bunker, their bodies engulfed in flame as they cooked.

Troopers raced past me as they began to assault the other two pillboxes, some reaching into the bunkers and yanking the Zebras out with a savage ferocity as they beat them to a bloody pulp with their bare hooves. I swiveled my upper body around and blasted a squad of Zebras that decided to charge me with the DP-28. In a nearby depot, the Zebras began to deploy their combat robots to fight our forces.

What a major mistake.

Loading another round into the cannon, I centered the aiming reticule at the scrap metal building...

And blasted it to Tartarus.

As the depot exploded, a storm of shrapnel tore through metal and flesh alike, dropping those unfortunate enough to be in the radius of the blast. Some of the robots were struck in their combat inhibitors, sending them into a killing frenzy as they turned on their allies and tore them apart.

Suddenly, the radio built into my helmet gave a brief screech of static, followed by the panicking voice of General Zaryazhat'.

"All forces pull back! Pull back immediately! The Zebras have...-static-...spells..." But the static became so heavy that Zaryazhat' was drowned out.

The Zebras have spells? No matter! No spell can penetrate my armor!

Suddenly, the skies above went from snowy gray to a sickly green, followed by a bright flash. Suddenly, the ground began to heave as another bright flash ripped through the clouds, followed by the deadliest fire I have ever seen. The flame was emerald green, shimmering with a layer of gold. It impacted the ground and began to incinerate everything caught in its' path. Ponies and Zebras ran for their lives, but were quickly engulfed by the emerald flame, flash frying them.

With great horror, I realized that the flame was coming for me as well.

I braced myself, gritting my teeth as the flame washed over my armor, the heat sapping into the armor and tickling my nerves as it began to eat away at my fur and soon the skin underneath. Opened an eye, seeing that my HUD was going haywire with medical reports while the Geiger Counter ran higher and higher with each passing second.

Suddenly, a single message flashed across my vision.

"Internal and External Hemorrhaging reaching fatal levels. External radioactivity level above survivability levels. Inducing comatose until rescue arrives."

And just like that, my world went black, as if somepony had switched off the lights.