Easy Contracts and Hard Liquor.

by gamer4COD

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Science Fiction, King Sombra, Crystal Ponies, Adventure, Shining Armor, Crossover, Sex, Human, Anthro, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Cadance, Alternate Universe
Length: 14497

For a kingdom of peace loving giddy-up people, there sure are a lot of jobs for mercenaries, good thing we got here. Two Talon Company, OC's with Pip-boys, wandering and mercing on everyone they're paid to go after. Oh, and they fucking hate slavers.

The guns in their hands, the armour they wear, they very attitude all point towards one thing...

They're Talon Company Mercenaries, and what will they do in Equestria; get contracts, complete contracts, drink, maybe bang some of the locals and start their own mercenary company... how does Deathgrip Company sound?

Pretty much the same thing they did back home really, only... with snow and grass? Friends?! MAGIC! Okay, maybe things will be a little different.

I'm writing this because I've rarely seen an original FO crossover, so let's list what this isn't, okay? Great.
THIS IS IN NO WAY A FO:E STORY! Got it?! Okay.
This isn't a do-gooder kid from a vault, their grandparents were from a vault as well as their dad, but NOT them.
They ain't some god damn cowboy courier, but they have no problem with a contract about revenge, they discount in fact.
They have never met the Sole Survivor, his story takes place after theirs starts, but they do have the same model Pip-boy.
Guns with realistic behavior, no magic Pip-boy logic or hammerspace, they'll have unique perks, traits and sexual preferences as well as a 'fuck you, I'm a merc' attitude towards authority and the royals in particular.
Wild Wasteland is enabled.
Enigmatic Equestria is also enabled.

Okay, I think I warned you guys enough.

A crossover with Fallout, mainly a crossover with the Fallout mod, A Tale of Two Wastelands, which brings elements of Fallout NV to Fallout 3. Some additional stuff from Fallout 4 like their backstory and a less OP VATS using Pip-boy.

Published 2016-06-28 13:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-03 02:15:43 UTC

From whence they came...

Storyteller

Everyone has heard the tale of the Vault Dweller, the Chosen One, the Lone Wanderer, the Sixth Courier and more recently, I've started telling the tale of the Sole Survivor. Of course that's just a handful of stories I've happened to stumble across in my travels, the wasteland has many more buried in its sands. Today, our story isn't one I tell often, but it does prove that friendship is not always magic... just most of the time.

This is not one of those times.

Now then, if you were to ask a Wastelander what the words Talon Company means, they'll reply with the standard, "Heartless, honourless, merciless killers who, while not as grotesque and as barbaric, are twice as deadly as any Raider or Slaver, three times as organized, four times as smart and five times outta five, better equipped than you."

If you were to ask one of Reilly's Rangers what Talon Company mercenaries fight for, you'll get some spit on your footwear and a scowl, "Nothing but caps," They'll claim, "they don't fight for anything but the caps, they don't have feelings or even thoughts that aren't related to the pay or stolen goods."

If you were to ask a Talon Company mercenary why they're so effective, they'll tell you to shut up and keep moving, they aren't getting paid for conversation, they're getting paid to protect your ass. If they aren't being paid to protect you, then they're probably getting paid to kill you... so either way, don't expect friendly conversation.

I'll leave you to your own opinions of them, but personally, I think the best way to get an opinion of someone, is to learn something about them. So here is the tale of two wastelanders, respected by their fellow mercenaries, distrusted and even treated with outright hostility by their employers, how they brought pain and destruction to their foes or the occasional smile and laugh to their friends...

Jason Stoner-Talon

February the eighth of the year twenty-two, seventy-eight

When I say that there are some people who just don't deserve to live, take my word for it, I know what I'm talking about. Raiders, Slavers, heck even a few of my brothers and sisters in arms deserve nothing less than a high powered bullet to the head.

That's not to say I'll let them die if I can help it, they're still my brothers and sisters, I'm only saying some of them deserve quick and nearly painless deaths, that's all.

Anyways, my sister, Sarah, and I are close, always have been and always will be. She saw me as nothing less than a fission powered electromagnet for trouble. I saw her as a crate of nitroglycerin being dragged behind a brahmin through a minefield. We both say the other is the dangerous one, but unlike her, I've never tried to make a fission powered electromagnet... I still have no idea where she found the brahmin and the crate of nitroglycerin, let alone how someone so good with explosives wouldn't notice a minefield until she was halfway through it. I think she was drunk, high or maybe she was just fucked silly the night before.

Ah, the mysteries of the Capital Wasteland. So very many and all of them so unique.

What can I say about myself, well I don't talk much, or at all... I don't even know why. Is it out of habit instead of personal preference, seeing as to stealth is my element and the many late night assassinations and recon missions I've done required total silence? Well according to Sarah, when I was born I took one look at the wasteland and thought fuck this shit, as if I knew as a newborn that nothing else that came out of my mouth would ever change the wasteland. So there's that theory. I whistle, I'm pretty damn good at it too, Sarah and I know Morse code and we have a small library of hand signals, so I can still communicate, just without talking, which is comforting.

Anyway, our dad was a wasteland scout for a vault, when he and his parents spoke up for sharing the life saving technology and medicine with the wastelanders, the overseer didn't care for that and they were kicked out by those that knew them their entire lives. A week after they left the vault, dad came across a settlement, fell in love with one of the guards and, after a few months, they got married and had Sarah.

A year and a half later, I was born. Me and Sarah were both natural marksmen, something that was perfected during our training, although I always excelled with a scoped rifle while Sarah found her calling in energy weapons and shooting dual-wield due to her being, in her words, akimbo-dexterous. We would occasionally go out hunting after the year twenty-two, sixty-six, when me and Sarah had got our grandparents' Pip-boys for our respective tenth birthdays, something our dad said was a vault tradition.

Sarah and I are members of Talon Company, we started young when a squad of them came upon us one night before I became a teenager, we had just watched our parents get raped and tortured by some slavers after a long day of hunting. Traumatizing, hell yeah, but it's in the past and it lit a flame in our hearts as we watched the bastards, they didn't care for enslaving our mom and dad, they just wanted our dad to tell them where vault eighty-one was and how to get in. I guess that's where Sarah's defiant nature is from, I act more like our mom; I'm a soft speaking kind of person but I'll always speak my mind, even without words. Usually with bullets from a half of a mile away.

Now, I don't care for dreaming, maybe because most of my dreams are focused around people I care for dying, a common theme for most Talons or wastelanders. At least, I think. Thankfully my sister, Sarah, is alive and well, something not everyone who lives in the wasteland can say, but something I'm damn proud of. It takes a lot to protect someone so reckless after all.

In most of my dreams, I'm kneeling over Sarah's mutilated corpse, trying to stuff her organs back in. I knew I was dreaming almost every time, but the knowledge of the world being a fake didn't stop me from being terrified, Sarah was always there for me and I watched her back; my greatest fear was of not waking up and finding out that that time, it wasn't a dream. But not that day, that day started like many others...

...with me on the ground.

"WAKE UP DAMMIT!!" Gravity grasped and tore me from my bed, which was on its side for some reason. I hit the metal floor and laid there for a few seconds, simply coming to terms with just what the fuck happened. Once I had finished that, I looked up and saw Sarah standing over me with a smirk, her blue eyes shining with amusement and her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail while her helmet, balaclava and breathing mask were cradled under her arm. She had her riot shotgun and Cosmo, her custom modified laser RCW, hanging off of their extendable slings on her back while her two Glock eighty-six Plasma Defenders rested on her hips in a pair of black, leather holsters, "I tried to wake you, but you were having one of your dead-to-the-world dreams again, so I had to get drastic."

I glared at her and sat up, rubbing the back of my skull, my nightmares make me a deep sleeper but when I don't get one, I can wake up to someone just snapping their fingers. After the ache went away a little, I stood up and whistled at her, she rolled her eyes before she walked out of the barracks, "Okay okay, no need for foul language so early in the morning. Hurry up and get ready, we got a contract."

I sighed as I walked over to the foot locker, righting my bunk on the way. I reached in and pulled out Wanda, my custom R91 assault rifle that I've built and rebuilt hundreds of times as well as the kit with all of mine and Sarah's weapon mods. Mainly mine. Next I grabbed my silenced sniper rifle that was chambered for three-oh-eight rounds and ran a quick check on the scope's mounts, not a single loose screw, as well as the absence of a rattle that many other sniper rifles got from a lack of maintenance; it was as pristine as ever.

I pulled out a pair of razor sharp combat knives, both of the blades painted in the standard Talon Company black, the paint itself was some kind of light absorbing material, before I pulled my twelve-point-seven millimeter submachine gun out and my extra, extra large backpack; filled with plenty of extra magazines, spare ammo, spare energy cells and electron charge packs, extra grenades and mines of various types as well as a bomb making kit for Sarah that I really didn't like carrying, three days worth of random crap and caps for those long term missions, spare armour plates -both steel, ceramic and steel with a ceramic overlay-, two weapon maintenance kits with all of the necessary additions for our wide variety of weapons, my reloading and recycling kit, basic field dressing kit and a pair of rebreathers from when Fort Bannister was military base, a few MRE's and several bottles of clean water.

Oh, and some snackfoods and a few bottles of Nuka-Cola. Sugary goodness is important on the battlefield after all as I've told Sarah.

You may think it was a little excessive, but in my opinion, I really hate getting pinned down without my little armory, I knew better than that. That and I'm, as Sarah and Commander Jabsco put it, a hoarder. I for one just like being prepared even if I have to have about two hundred and fifty pounds of shit on me at all times. The weapons and the extra, extra large backpack that held all of my equipment was placed on my bed before I reached in and pulled out my combat armour, a mark two set, the battle rattle for it, my balaclava and my breathing mask that was all in the standard black of Talon Company.

Before I got dressed, I took the time to check my equipment; all of the kits were fully stocked and ready for use, my snacks have expired some two hundred years ago, the MRE's were gonna go bad in a few decades, the breathing mask didn't have any signs of decay, my armour wasn't too pockmarked and the combat vest didn't show too many signs of wear and tear, all of my guns were clean and none of the extras for Wanda or the twelve-point-seven had any obvious damage. Oh, and my knives were still razor sharp, to my pain.

Yep, that's gonna scar. Everything is in good shape, now I'm ready. Today is going to be hell on my stuff, through. I thought as I wrapped the cut on my finger with my under shirt. I may even find a bottle of presidential wine, or did whoever the fuck it was that killed the planet prefer whiskey? Hopefully whiskey or vodka... nah, that's a commie drink. Maybe wine, but wasn't that's for mexicans, French tequila it is!

My education was focused on practical things, like weapon and armour maintenance, survival skills and shooting, not long dead alcohol producing countries. I knew all the important things through; wine makes me calm, vodka makes me brood over past contracts, whiskey makes me pick fights, scotch makes me sick, tequila makes me pick more fights and beer makes me sleepy. Oh, and the one time I had moonshine, I woke in some lady's bed in Tenpenny Towers. No one knows how I got in there, let alone why that nympho jumped my bones or how I crossed the Capitol Wasteland in my underclothes without anything to protect myself with. It's my belief I'm a ninja and I'm not even Chinese.

After I got dressed, minus the facial appeal, I walked out of the room I shared with my fellow Talons and headed to the restroom, leaving my massive backpack on the floor next to the door. Once I finished my business, I walked over to the sink and washed my face, observing myself. I stood at six feet, three inches tall, with short, messy brown hair and a three pointed star shaped scar in the middle of my forehead, a result of Sarah's early attempts at explosive experimentation that involved a lunch box, bottle caps, a radio receiver and a frag grenade... the less said, the better, the soooo much better.

The Capital Mall, it's several hundred yards long with interconnected trenches, fortifications and is filled to the brim with Super Mutants. It was an average day for the Capital Wasteland, grey clouds completely covered the sky, the Potomac crawled along, people died of, but not limited to, disease, bullets, wildlife or starvation, radiation and dehydration. It was on that day, in a open field that my life started to take a turn I never saw coming. I had just climbed out of a trench a moment ago and was running across no-man's land.

I ran forward as fast as I could, my long strides were eating up the dust as missiles and bullets flew past me while I fired my standard version of Wanda from my hip. I knew I wasn't hitting anything vital or even suppressed any of them, but shooting back made me feel more alive and it's good to feel alive. Especially in a gunfight. The Super Mutants had dug in deep in the mall area, but I didn't care about how many there were, I just cared for how much I was going to get paid and what I could steal, that and coming out alive so I can enjoy it, Hard liquor, here I come!

I jumped into a trench and immediately emptied the rest of my magazine into a brute's helmeted head, the beast dropped its sledgehammer as it died. As I was reloading, I heard footsteps from above the trench and pulled out my sub, aiming it towards the sound. To my relief, it was Sarah, to my humor, coming eye to barrel with my gun scared her off of her feet and she landed in a pile at the bottom of the trench. Payback!

"God fucking damn it Jason, you nearly blew my head off!" She yelled, I mimed laughter as I pulled her up, "Yeah yeah, laugh it up."

I whistled and pointed towards the south, indicting the Super Mutant Master with the minigun that was standing on a small bunker-ish construction that was made of I-beams, "Oh, feeling reckless today, aren't ya?" Sarah asked as we took off.

As we were about to reach the end of the trench, the green bastard took notice of us. We both ran faster as he poured pounds of hot lead at us until we slide into cover, Sarah grabbed my attention and pulled out a frag grenade. I smiled under my breathing mask and pulled out one of my own as she told me, "Wait for the reload."

We pulled the pins and waited, the ugly green bastard shouted at us right as his gun ran out, "I'm going to eat your arms, when you're dead hum-AHH!"

A couple of explosions interrupted him as I jumped up and climbed out of the trench, firing Wanda into the freaks head. He tried to punch me but a couple of blasts from Sarah's shotgun knocked him back a step, within seconds I was standing on his corpse, the dead Mutant's mingun in my hands, "Sweet, did you find any ammo?"

I whistled in quick succession and Sarah nodded before she took my backpack for me, grunting under the weight as she replaced it with the minigun's, "How the fuck do you carry this thing? Nevermind, you probably have a Buffout addiction from all that weight lifting... Anyway, two thirds of a magazine in the gun and two empty spare magazines in the spare magazine backpack."

I hung the minigun on the included backpack before me and Sarah ran back to the trench and fought our way back towards the center before we caught up to one of the mech-keepers in an outdated set of Talon combat armour standing next to a sentry-bot, he greeted us with a smile, "Hey you two, we need to keep pushing on the south flank, but Flash Smoker over here is low on cells, either of you got some to spare?"

Sarah nodded as she reached into my backpack, she pulled out three electron charge packs and handed them to the mech-keeper, "Better be grateful, that's my ammo as well you know."

"Thanks, say Jason," I nodded as he addressed me, "Phil and Bulk Bullets over on the north side could use some more ammo, you gonna use that thing?"

Well obviously, why else would I lug this heavy thing around. I whistled and Sarah nodded, "He'll see if anything is left in it when we get there."

"Eh, could be worse I guess, but I'm sure you'll put that thing to good use." Both of our Pip-boys chimed, a quick glance showed an optional objective, *optional objective; bring at least one hundred five millimeter rounds to Phil so he can reload Bulk Bullets. Reward; robot assistance during the battle*. We turned around and were about to start running when the mech-keeper continued, "Hey, if we make it through this, drinks are on me!"

"I may hold you to that, come on Jason." I whistled my acceptance and we continued to the north. Both of us ignored our Pip-boys when they chimed again, likely informing us of our *optional reward; free alcohol*.

We got half way through the trench when an Overlord jumped into our path, a extra large super sledgehammer in its left hand. The monstrosity turned in our direction and growled, Sarah got on one knee as she aimed Cosmo and her riot shotgun with the akimbo method, meanwhile I spun the minigun up, ready to empty however many rounds were necessary. Bring it greenskin.

We opened fire, Sarah holding ground in front of me as I tracked the meathead's meaty head. Sarah jumped to the side of the trench as the Overlord slammed its super sledgehammer into the ground where she was mere seconds prior. The Overlord roared before it charged me, I gritted my teeth as the super sledgehammer destroyed the ceramic plates and dented the underlying steel ones with ease. I slammed into the trench wall and didn't have a second to breath before the Mutant picked me up in its right hand.

"I... Is!.. hun-GRY!!!" It yelled in my face, I coughed, the stench managing to work its way through my breathing mask and sickened me. A couple of shotgun blasts to the beast's back caused it to turn around and roar at Sarah, "You, next!"

I blew a high pitched whistle as I aimed the minigun with only one hand and pulled the trigger, my left arm having been pinned to my side, it couldn't have been more perfect if the Mutant bastard was able to drop its jaw; the bastard didn't even have a second to look at the spinning barrels of the minigun before a hail of five millimeter rounds plowed into its face. The headless beast dropped me and I jumped to the side just before its corpse hit the ground with a loud thud.

"You okay?" I nodded after I rolled onto my back, the minigun's backpack propping me up as I ripped my breathing mask off, my breaths coming too quick and shallow for them to be of any use, "You sure? That was a pretty heavy hit you took."

I gave her a thumbs-up and kept gasping, Sarah shook her head as she took her med-kit out of her backpack, "Hold on, I'll get you patched up." She told me as she opened the med-kit, "Keep still, this isn't going to feel nice."

She pulled a stimpak out, moved my armour and shirt out of the way and stabbed me with the syringe in between my ribs, I ground my teeth together as she pulled the syringe out and repeated the process five more times. I could feel my cracked ribs healing as the stimulants worked their magic, it burned, itched and made me almost scream. Fucking damn!

After a moment of internal swearing, I gave Sarah a thumbs up and she helped me to my feet, "You know, if you weren't a ex morphine addict, I could've gave you a shot."

I glared at her from under my visor and reattached my breathing mask, "Yeah yeah yeah, well it's your own damn fault." I nodded, more than a little ashamed, as I picked up and tied the Overlord's super sledgehammer to my backpack and she grunted under the additional weight. I motioned to the north impatiently and she shook her head, "You're right, let's hurry up, I wanna get this shit done too."

I nodded as we moved onwards, within a few minutes we arrived at our destination and found one of the mech-keepers taking cover behind a sentry bot, "Hey mech boy, how about some bullets?" Sarah yelled as we approached.

"Boy am I glad to see you two; listen, one of those mutie bastards threw a emp grenade at me and Bulky, but before I could take a shot at him the coward ran off, can you two go find him and kill him, I'd hate to get pinned down without robot support when we really need them."

"Huh, I thought you were just out of bullets?" Sarah asked.

"Nah, low but not out. Besides, I have plenty of backup ammo on a friend of mine, if I only knew where the prick ran off to. So, what do you say?"

I nodded and Sarah took the initiative, "Yeah, we'll find the zap Mutant, but Jason over here is gonna need some of those spare bullets your friend is bringing."

"Heh, you drive a hard bargain, what the hell. Go find this Master bastard and you can have a few hundred rounds when Mack brings 'em." The mech-keeper offered.

Our Pip-boys chimed and I looked down, *optional objective; find and kill the Super Mutant Master that's carrying emp grenades. Reward; several hundred rounds of five millimeter*.

Sarah said our farewells and we started hunting, she would get up in close range and draw fire while I would drop the Mutants with a nice three-oh-eight round to the head. After the third Master that we killed, Sarah called me over using the short range radios in our Pip-boys, a result of more than a few late nights on Sarah's part, "Jason, get over here, quick!"

I hung my sniper on the metal backpack and pulled out Wanda, a quick removal of her stock and the addition of a suppressor turned her into a close quarters weapon. Within seconds I was at her side behind one of the barricades the muties slap together, she gave a agitated nod to it as she spoke, "Look over it and tell me what you see."

I rolled my eyes before I laid the minigun down and lifted myself over the rampant to observe what had set her off; sitting around a fire with a charred corpse impaled over it were three Brutes, two basics and a Master. A quick peek at the corpse revealed it wasn't so much charred as it was wearing black combat armour.

I dropped back down and nodded as she told me the plan, "Crossfire, you sneak up on the right, I'll draw fire over to the left."

I gave a thumbs up and started sneaking around the barricade, Seriously, I know Mutants are dumb but eating on the job? I shook my head as I judged the next gap in cover, I rather not risk it, better use my module.

I pulled up my Pip-boy and selected items, aid and finally Stealth-boy-module. With a unseen grin, I pressed use and watched myself disappear from sight, I better tell Sarah her module worked, she's gonna be fucking ecstatic to find out.

With that in mind, I continued sneaking towards a pile of scrap that would make a good piece of cover. I ducked behind it and laid down, the bulky minigun and its backpack were placed beside me as I pulled out a couple of grenades and a few spare magazines, things were gonna get hairy, real quick.

Sarah must've thrown a grenade or three because I heard one of the super freaks yell, "Gonna blow!"

I took that as my cue and threw two of my own into the bunch, the muties that weren't running towards Sarah started looking around for me, but Wanda made short and silent work of them. I always enjoyed that about Wanda, Super Mutants believe that the louder the gun, the more damage it does. In fact, they also believe that suppressed or silenced guns can't hurt them, but thirty five-fifty-six rounds will hurt anything, even deathclaws.

I jumped out of cover after the last mutie dropped, my module choosing that moment to deactivate as well, and approached the fire while Sarah walked over with a few new EMP grenades in her combat webbing, "Hey Jason, we got him. You wanna go back now?"

I looked over at Sarah and motioned for her to come closer, once she did, I reached over, grabbed our fellow Talon's dogtags and read them, sighing as I handed them to Sarah.

"Name, Ben Haggerty Macklemore. Date of birth, June 19 2045. Preference, none. Blood type, AB POS. Nickname, Thrifty. Huh, so where's the ammo box he had?" She asked, I shrugged as I turned back to pick-up my stuff. Sarah found the ammo box after a few minutes and loaded the minigun's spare magazines, which were placed in the backpack for me to carry. Ah, the comforting weight of excessive spare ammo.

After a half of an hour, we had finally finished the last of the outside defenders and were about to breach the capitol building. Sarah had found a fat-man and even a mini-nuke for it while I had almost five hundred rounds of ammo for the minigun; we were too late to save Phil but Sarah was able to finish fixing Bulk Bullets, so it wasn't a total lost.

"Okay, reports say there's a behemoth in here. Sarah here will hit it with a nuke while the rest of us cover her, make us proud doll face." The sergeant told us while winking at Sarah.

"Oh shut the fuck up sarge, I got this." She replied as she shouldered the mobile artillery. I made sure to stay a few extra feet back and to the side as she did so.

"Just watch your aim better than you watch your mouth. Now then, let's finish this and get paid." With that, he kicked the door in and jumped out of the way, massive chips and chunks of rock and tile bouncing everywhere.

"Sarah, Jason, you two mind throwing some grenades in there?!" I whistled and pulled out two frag grenades as Sarah did the same, a quick trick left both of the grenades pinless and spoonless, we gave them a quick cook before they were tossed in.

Four explosions rang out, Sarah's grenades were less stable due to her tendency to pack them herself, but made a much bigger boom. Although personally, I rather play hopscotch in a minefield than be anywhere near her grenades, but I'd never tell her that... mainly because a minefield is safer than a angry Sarah.

I ran in and focused, VATS activating to slow the world to a crawl, I picked my targets and released several bursts of five-fifty-six rounds into various heads. Some dropped, some didn't. Those that didn't were wiped up when Sarah came in and repeated my performance.

We continued like this for a few minutes, room by room and hallway by hallway until we stood outside of the rotunda, I looked over at Sarah and she nodded, "Let's make some motherfucking noise."

Julie wasn't a smart woman, even though she lived in Springfield, she applied to Vault Eighty-Seven. When her husband went missing, in a Vault no less, she simply trusted the Vault-Tec officials. When she woke up on an operating table, she simply assumed she was there for some surgery she forgot she needed due to the drugs.

Needless to say, while she was easily the dumbest dumb blonde joke in existence, she was also the oldest Super Mutant in the area, which meant, for those of you who failed mutant physiology, she was the biggest, strongest, toughest Super Mutant and lacked anything resembling mental stability. Her memories had faded and most were lost, replaced by the burning desire to kill, eat and "breed" more Super Mutants.

In shorter terms- "Hey fat, retarded and ugly!" -that.

But, maybe she wasn't too far gone, she still had enough frame of mind to recognize an insult, even if it took her about ten seconds to do so, that's actually pretty quick for a Super Mutant Behemoth.

"Why isn't the fucking thing doing anything?"
"Should I just nuke it?"
"Maybe it's trying to think of a comeback?"
"Than it definitely lost the insult contest."
"Hello, do I blow his balls off or what?"
"Don't be stupid Sarah, Mutants don't have balls."
"And how do you know?"
"I once overheard some raiders talking about their friend, apparently he tried to rape one of those things."
"Damn, did he live, guy like that deserves to live, if only for his balls."
"Shut up!"
"Why!?"
"Yeah, what's gotten your panties in a bunch?!"

"THAT!" Sarah yelled as she pointed at the behemoth, who was currently watching us all as the two idiots argued.

"Damn, what the hell is wrong with it?"
"Maybe it's nice?"
"Nice you stupid mother- its wearing a belt that's decorated with skulls and heads Carl!"
"Yeah but I overheard some raiders saying they used to have one as a pet till The Vault Saint came."
"Yeah and I was the guy who fired the nukes at China."
"Really, how did you live so long without turning into a ghoul?"
"Shut up Carl."
"No really, you gotta tell me your secrets!"

I grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her into a nearby doorway. We both turned around and waited, "So, how long do you think they got?"

I did some math, considered how the mutie hasn't killed them yet, cross-referenced that to how loud they were being as well as the half dozen other Mutants that were just as stumped as the behemoth and held up three fingers.

Two seconds later, a massive fire hydrant club crashed into Carl, who yelled something about wrecking balls as he flew back, which caused Sarah to yell out of the doorway, "Shut the fucking hell up Carl!"

I tapped Sarah's shoulder and we charged, I took position behind Bulk Bullets as the sentry bot fired a missile, the mingun barking under the stocky robot's right arm. Sarah fired the fat man at the behemoth and unceremoniously dropped it for Cosmo, shooting bursts of laser fire at the Overlord pair.

A couple of twi-beams in my direction forced me to duck as Bulk Bullets took the heat of the deadly weaponized light. I whistled at Sarah over the sounds of battle, barely getting her attention, and pointed at the overlords, "I'm trying, I'm trying."

I rolled my eyes and pulled a flashbang out, I tossed it before covering my helmeted ears with my hands, the characteristic bang reduced to a deep thud. I grabbed my twelve-point-seven and a combat knife, within seconds the Stealth-boy-module was activated, thus allowing me to rush into the room and take up a flanking position on the right. I held the knife in my left hand with only two of my fingers holding the foregrip and started shooting, Thank you stacked mags and Sargent Pliskin!

I killed a Brute with a assault rifle without the Mutant bastards noticing something was up, before they could find out about me I had already started changing positions; this time behind the Behemoth with an idea, my common sense kicking in to bitch at me. Bad stupid plan, choose life Jason!

I ran at the mountain of muscle and jumped, barely able to catch the bottom of the shopping cart cage with my off hand, I hope you're really, really fucking stupid.

I holstered my twelve-point-seven and started climbing up, unfortunately, my module gave out just as I had climbed on top of the cage, Shit.

"There! Get that human!" Fuck! The Behemoth swung its fire hydrant club, which nearly sent me flying, DAMN!!!

I stabbed my knife into the Mutant's thick hide and pulled out my other knife, This better work! I stabbed the other knife into the Mutant and pulled my left knife out, pulling myself up and stabbing the unoccupied knife higher up, mentally praying for a little luck.

"Hey big boy, I'm going to brush your teeth, with lead and lasers!" Sarah yelled as her shotgun and Cosmo started peppering the Behemoth's face, Heh, when's the last we brushed our teeth?!

"Little, pest! I eat you, whole!" Another swing of the club once again nearly sent me flying. I growled as I continued climbing the unaware mutant. If this doesn't get me danger pay, than nothing will!

I pulled myself to the Behemoth's thick neck and stabbed both of my knives into the thick folds, side by side. Grabbing the two knives with my off hand, I reached down and tried to grab a grenade.

"Go, go, go!" A masculine voice yelled from behind me, I craned my neck and looked on with wide eyes, DAMN! Not the fucking Enclave!

I counted at least five Enclave soldiers and a officer; two grunts, a hellfire and two tesla with two plasma rifles, a incinerator and two gatling lasers in that order, the officer pointed his plasma pistol at me and fired, the bolts coming within inches of my hand.

The behemoth roared but didn't take his attention off of my fellow mercs, I grunted as I unhooked the minigun, barely catching it before it fell, and pointed at the officer with one hand, Fuck you! Fuck your green spitting pistol! And fuck. The. Enclave!

The minigun roared its agreement to my internal curses, lead raining down and shredding the unarmoured officer through sheer rate of fire. I held the trigger down and waved the minigun at the hellfire, forcing him into cover as the massive amount of kick threatened to dislodge me.

After a more time than justified, I finally released the trigger and glanced at my Pip-boy *Minigun, 87/240* Damn, better make it worth my while.

The Behemoth swung its club again, my change in location revealed a Overlord that was next to a terminal. I once more 'aimed' as well as I could and VATS activated, yes!

The world slowed to a crawl as my Pip-boy ran the math, giving me terrible odds on him, but odds all of the same. I smiled as the world sped up, two dozen bullets flew down, what few that hit shredded chunks from the muties head, which didn't kill him.

Once more, the Behemoth swung, giving me a good look at Sarah and the others, How are you still alive Carl, are you such a fuck up you can't even die right?

I whistled and pointed the heavy weapon at the terminal, Sarah nodded while hanging her Laser RCW back on its straps. She ran, dodging lead, plasma and lethal light on her way to the terminal, and the Overlord near it.

I sprayed at the Overlord as Sarah blasted it with her shotgun, knocking the monster deeper into the wide cone my poor 'aiming' resembled. Sarah finished it with her shotgun as the minigun ran dry, but before I could drop myself from my vantage point I heard a noise that chilled me to my bones.

The distinctive whoosh that a incinerator made when it fired, the ball of flame must've hit me in my back because I wasn't engulfed in flames, which meant, shit, shit, SHIT!

I dropped the minigun and pulled my knives out, causing me to slide down the behemoth's back and land on top of the cage. I pulled my sniper off of its hook and struggled with the flaming backpack, Fire bad, fire very bad!

I yanked the backpack off and threw it down, hitting the hellfire on the head with a sickening crunch, Fuck yeah, unintentional kill. I picked my sniper up and turned back towards the Enclave when, to my shock, the hellfire stood up and aimed his damnable weapon at me, Nope!

I jumped off of the cage to my left mere seconds before the first ball of flame hit, several more following the first. The Behemoth roared as it turned towards the Enclave and I fell to the ground, landing with a roll that ended with me looking up at a pair of a Australian plasma pistols. Sarah laughed as she holstered her two energy weapons and help me to my feet, "There, now we're even."

I rolled my eyes as I hung the sniper on my back, soon followed by my back pack. "You okay, you're helmet's on fire."

I almost tried to yank the helmet off, only to stop as Sarah started laughing again, "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

I punched her in the arm and turned around, the Behemoth was ripping the enclave apart, literally in the hellfire's case. Good, fuck those guys. Especially fuck that one.

"Okay, the turrets are online and accepted our Pip-boy's IFF system, let's watch the-" She started only to stop. I looked over to see why Sarah stopped, finding her staring down the barrel of a M1 Garand.

"Nighty night, Talon scum." The power armour wearing man said, I didn't have to guess who it was, I knew who the fuck it was, Sarah knew as well.

"The Vault Saint." She growled, I focused on my VATS, only to find out it was still recharging. "Well ain't this a way to go?"

The bastard chuckled, "Yeah, not everyone in hell can claim to have been killed by me... just most of the new arrivals."

My hand inched towards my sub, thankfully Sarah got his attention before he could notice it, "Let's go out with a bang then, shall we?"

Author's Note

If you were looking for a story about two people from a literary war torn planet finding peace, love, tolerance and harmony in the wonderful land of Equestria then I have three words for you...

There's the door. Buh-bye, this story isn't for you now leave. If you were looking for a story about two rough and tough war ready, blood thirsty mercenaries who were thrown into a situation far outside of their normal one, and somehow coming out ahead of all of the odds against them, then welcome, come on in and grab a drink.

Things are gonna break the mold for HiE in this bitch. How so, how about a short exempt from later on?

"Don't you mean anypony?" I could tell that this one was gonna be trouble, the way she had pressed her face against Sahar's visor was disturbing, but I wasn't about to question shit.

Magic is real here, those two giddy-up people told us that and, seeing as to we didn't see any proof that it wasn't, we believed them.

"No," Sarah replied, peeling the pink pony's face off of her helmet, "If I said something, then I probably meant it. Now get your fucking rape face looking smile and shove it somewhere private before I crack your skull open."

Yep, that's gonna happen.

Please comment, it took me a long time to get this how I wanted it so please, tell me what you think of this chapter.

Yeah, two Fallout OC's sent to Equestria, we'll just have to see where this goes.

...to how they came to be.

Sarah Stoner-Talon

They warned Jason and me about the training, to become a Talon you needed two things; youth and drive. You see, the Talon Mercenary Company, or just Talon Company, recruits its members from the Capital Wasteland's most tragic victims, few older than thirteen are even allowed to join, few included me. The second thing is drive... all Talon Company mercs have certain jobs, targets or employers they'll never accept, for various reasons.

After the Talons who found us brought us back to their camp, they told us that we could either join them or receive a few weapons as well as directions to somewhere safe. This wouldn't be a very interesting story if we took the easy way out and went to maybe find a safe place, now would it. We took the offer that enticed us, the one that would give us a home and plenty of brothers and sisters, of course the strict lifestyle was harsh and more than a few ounces of blood were left behind in the training yard, but once we finished what we started...

We've never felt so proud.

From the day we earned our armour, Jason and me never accepted contracts from slavers, it's our little no-go. Our drive was fueled by the times we were hired to fight slavers, we were good at it and we liked doing it. Hell, I fucking loved doing those jobs, nothing more satisfying than killing some worthless filth. Especially after you've burned a town down just yesterday.

Now, me and Jason each have our own personal skills and techniques; Jason is strong enough to effortlessly carry hundreds of pounds of gear all day with no complaint, and not just due to the silent treatment he gives the world, as well as being able to operate large weapons most others can't. He's extremely stealthy, even with his extremely large pack on him, talented at picking locks and pockets, using rifles and submachine guns, repairing, maintaining and modifying his weapons, although he also works on my riot shottie if I bribe him.

He is also talented at using his knives, or whatever he can get his hands on, in combat. Me, on the other hand, I have my own advantages. I'm the smart one of us two, advanced technology, high explosives, computers or robots, combat medic, I basically do just about everything he can't. In close quarters, I prefer hand-to-hand while he goes melee thanks to one of our sergeants back when we were just starting out teaching us the importance of variety. I'm loud and proud while he is silent but deadly, I'm all about energy weapons and explosive problem solving while he prefers firearms and discretion.

Yes, we're not two peas in a pod similar, but definitely in terms of closeness. Now than, I'm sure Jason told you about his rifle, that's his pride and joy right there. His weapon mod kit has somewhere around two dozen extras for all sorts of shit and he never lets anyone else, even me, touch his gun. Most Talons aren't even aware of what all of those mods he has can do, just in case we need to hunt them down. His rifle, Wanda as he named it, is able to use thirty round magazines that are extremely rare, but he somehow found over a dozen of the things, as well as all of the extra twenty-four round magazines he has.

Yeah, he loves that fucking thing, just like I love Cosmo. Now I bet you all are still drooling over his gun, so wipe your mouth before I get started. Better? I agree, the drool kinda covered your ghoulish looks, oh well.

Now Cosmo is a laser RCW, that's rotating capacitor weapon, that I've invested many, many, many hours into, kinda like me and Jason's Pip-boys. First off, Cosmo has a recycler affixed to it, giving me that oh so beloved extra firing length. Now this is where things get... personal.

I modified a laser pistol's focused optics to fit onto the barrel, there's a pop-up/flip-down sunglass lens with a X scratched in the center that I attached to the rear sight to fight blindness, and I spent weeks trying to get a micro-fusion breeder to not blow up the Electron Charge Packs from overcharging them too much before I felt comfortable adding one to the foremost part of the stock, I tack welded it onto the end of the gun's frame after taking all of the internal components out, and bam!

I had a Laser RCW that packed a surprising punch as well as reduced my ammunition useage, didn't blind me in the dark or light and beefed up whatever kind of ECP cell I loaded into it. Bulk cells were penetrating armour as if they were standard, standard to overcharged, overcharged was pumped up to max charge and you don't even wanna know what it did to max charge cells.

Yeah, I made what was supposed to be the assault rifle of energy weapons, into a heavy assault rifle. Pretty sweet huh?

Yeah, I got a sweet tooth for awesome guns too and there isn't any shame in it. Now where did Jason leave off at...

"Let's go out with a bang then, shall we?" I said as I looked down the barrel of the three hundred-plus year old gun.

"Did, did you really just say that?" The rifle lowered a fraction of an inch and I could feel him raising an eyebrow at me through his helmet, "Because even I think that's bad, Hell Fawkes gives me shit but that! That was terrible."

Jason whistled and I sent a glare back at him for his less than helpful comment, "You too, man everyone's a critic!"

"What?" I turned back to the gun holding vault-boy and.motioned to Jason, "Okay, I'm missing something here, ain't I?"

"Yeah but don't worry about it," I sighed as I nodded at my brother, "He's a mute, or at least he acts he is and fuck if I know why, so his whistles are his way of talking."

"That makes no sense but... okay. So, um... where were we?" We all looked around, everything had stopped, even the Super Mutant Behemoth's fire hydrant club was several inches above a Enclave tesla trooper's head.

"What the fuck is everyone stopping for, it's not like you guys have to stop during someone's conversation!" My shout broke the illusion of peace and everyone went back to killing each other.

"Much better, thanks." The Vault Saint said.

"No worries, does this happen often?" I asked.

"Yeah, I once opened a toolbox and stopped a herd of zombies."

"Damn, no shit?"

"No shit."

"Fuck, why do you think that happens?"

"I don't know, to be honest I'm afraid to know why."

I nodded, for some reason the idea of knowing why just sent chills down my spine, "Fair enough, shall we continue?"

"Sure." With that he shot me in the face and quickly followed up with another for Jason. Damn three thousand A model Pip-boys and their instant VATS. I know, I know, I wish I could say we had a extremely long and difficult fight between us with frantic runs to cover, nobody reloading but using all of their ammo, Carl saying something stupid, Carl doing something stupid, me killing Carl, excessive amounts of explosions and blood because of me shoving a mini-nuke down the behemoth's throat, turning the fucking thing into a giant gore shower.

But that would all be bullshit and I don't bullshit, I tell the truth... which is usually crazy, especially when you get shot in the face with a three-oh-eight and wake up... elsewhere.

Now the first thing I noticed was the cold, I liked it. It wasn't like the unnatural sapping cold of the wasteland at night, I mean it was draining my warmth but... I don't know, maybe it had something to do with the lack of radiation (something I learned later that day), either way I was cold but enjoying it.

Until the whispers started.

I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but I caught enough to understand something, I was near Brahmin and the damn two headed things wouldn't stay still, "Will someone drag me away from the cows, I can't eavesdrop on you bastards with all of that clippy-clop bullshit."

The whispering stopped for a moment before continuing, without the fucking brahmin walking around making noise. Better. I slowly sat up, trying to understand how I cheated death. After a moment, I came to the conclusion that unless Death is an idiot, than even if I remember how, I won't be able to cheat him again... and I'm pretty Death isn't retarded.

The clip-cloppy shit started up again with the sound of something heavy being dragged away from me, it continued until it was out of my hearing range. Several seconds passed until someone spoke up.

"E-excuse me?" A soft, fear filled voice interrupted me, sounding borderline suicidally depressed. I didn't even turn to face whoever it was as I was too busy looking at the wall in front of me, which was... something, something unnatural, something...shiny.

"I'm monologuing internally, come back later." I called over my shoulder as I ran my hand over the strange, glass-ish wall. It seemed too colourful to be glass, even beer and Nuka-Cola bottles weren't this colourful, or clean.

"Sorry but... what are you?" She asked again.

"Confused, sober, a little horny and looking to change that." I replied before turning around and looking at the shadowy figure behind me with an expression that screamed hungry louder than a Super Mutant. Behind the full face wear... damn it all, no wonder it didn't work, "You wouldn't happen to know where the nearest bar is, do you?"

"Uh, t-they're all closed... w-where did you come from?" Miss mysterious asked.

"When a vault dweller loves a wastelander very much," I snarked, "they make a couple of warmongers. Any other stupid questions?"

"Wh-what? T-that wasn't..." She hung her head and sighed, "nevermind. I just have one more question... d-do you work for... King Sombra."

"Who?" I stood up and reached for my Pip-boy, "I don't remember ever taking a contract from some guy named after a Canadian sunhat. Now who are you?" I flipped the brightness switch to overbright and pointed the screen at her, watching with a small grin as she covered her eyes with a hand.

A grin that faded when I saw she was missing a finger.

It faded more when I saw the scars.

It outright disappeared when I saw the collar on her neck, sending its rival, lethal glare, in its place.

"I-I don't know... I don't think I've ever seen a pony like you... maybe." She replied as I started checking her out and making several notes, "I don't remember much from before King Sombra came to power."

"This king, he did this?" I asked as I gestured at her collar, "Doesn't sound like the kind of filth I usually work for... how much?"

"I-I'm sorry?" She tilted her head, her weird mouth and nose, ears on top and extra large eyes having head, it freaked me a bit, but if she was a FEV creation, than at least this strain was cute... and possibly not hungry for flesh... possibly. She was covered in hair, but it wasn't shaggy or anything, even if it was dull grayish blue hair, her head hair was purple. She was wearing this one piece pre-war dress that was light purple and left her shoulders exposed, "How much for what?"

"Your tasty sugar bomb butt." I smiled as she made some cute noise before I dropped my grin like a live nuke on a Chinese city, "No, how much for his head. I'll even bring it to you on a platter, but what kind depends on the contract and pay. Tin for a basic kill-on-sight-but-don't-search-for-exclusively contract, silver is for revenge and "accident" contracts and gold is reserved for find-and-gut-painfully-and-immediately, which is our premium plan."

I looked over miss mysterious and came up with a few questions for later; contracts come first after all. But nice ass and liquor are close behind. Very close behind. She looked away from me a few times before she finally stared into my visor with a huge pair of eyes, "I-I... you t-think, you can, kill him?"

"Girl I can have his head by dinner, you can even have it as the centrepiece. All I need is a contract... and my brother." I looked around a little, only to see a distinct empty spot at my side, "Hey, have you seen someone like me, dark armour, big green wristwatch like mine, several guns and a huge backpack?"

"Oh, Short Sword dragged him into one of the other branches." She replied as I nodded and motioned for her to lead. Which gave me a nice view of her ass, although the purple tail did take some points away, it was still a nice piece of tail. I'm going to Hell for that one, I just know it.

A few minutes and confusing turns later, we walked into a room with a few torches on the walls, Jason was laying in the corner and some strange mofo digging through his backpack like a mole-rat in a garden. Again, he was covered in a coat of hair, although his was light blue with his head hair and tail being darker blue and were expertly styled. He was wearing a weird yellowish tee-shirt and a pair of brown pants. I slipped my spiked knuckles on and snuck behind him, for all of three feet. He stood up and turned around, holding one of Jason's knives pointed at me. Damn, being stealthy is hard.

"You know, it's not polite to snoop." I told him.

"Silence demon." He spat. He literally spitted. He fucking spitted at me!. "I'm not afra-"

One nearly knockout punch to the face followed by a long and personal explanation behind my hatred of spitting later, "-and that's why you don't spit around me."

I looked at the two of them, who were cowering in a corner after I shot a few plasma bolts at their feet, their weird, circular feet. They looked like Brahmin hooves, only more circlely. Anyway, after a moment of stunned silence, the cute girl raised a hand and asked, "S-s, you were really..."

I sighed, "Yes, I was really covered in Super Mutant vomit. Any useful questions?" Both of them raised their hands, "That don't involve what Super Mutants are." Both hands went down.

"Good, now we can-" and a hand went up, "Yes you, Short Stuff?"

"My name's Short Sword." He grumbled before continuing with his odd accent, it felt like his very way of talking was a refined version of what those Tenpenny Tower bitches sounded like, "Who, and what, are you?"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his protest of his name, "You can call me Miss Talon, not because I don't trust you, but because the company requires us to keep our names out of all business transactions. As to what I am, I'm a Talon Company merc; any contract, any where, any time."

"A mercenary huh? Well beggers can't be choosers. Tell me, would you care to take a contract?" Short asked, to which I grinned and nodded.

"Just give me a sec to wake up napping beauty." I told him as I walked over to Jason and raised a foot, "Raise and shine, bitch."

I kicked him in the helmeted head with my steel toe boot, barely able to jump out of the way of his other knife as it flew towards my hamstring. He stood up and started gesturing, whistling and flipping me off in rather creative ways. Fortunately, I knew how to shut him up.

"We got a contract." He stopped, middle finger half inflated, and gestured at the two others, who had finally stood up, "Yes, they're our soon to be employers."

Jason looked from me to them and whistled three letters in Morse code, "Nnnnnot sure on that front. But hey; they haven't tried to eat our faces yet." He whistled again and I waved a finger at him, "That's why I said yet."

He stood there for a second before shrugging and reaching for his backpack, only to find it missing, "It's over there, and yes; I used my spiked knuckles on him."

Jason stood there for almost a minute, likely planning several ways to get righteous revenge on Shorty, before he nodded and started reorganizing his ridiculous amount of shit. I turned back to the two who were watching us and frowned under my mask, "You two, you've got a lot of questions to answer, starting with; where the Hell are we?"

After a half of an hour, more disbelief than I've ever had, even when Jason one handed that fucking minigun not once but twice, and on the back of a fucking Behemoth, I've finally came to terms with our situation.

"We're in a world of giddy-up people, some who have wings, magic, extra strength or all three, in a place called The Crystal Empire, which is above some other horsey people country called Equestria, there's something called a blizzard about to wipe this place off of the map and the natives of this place are as fragile as glass when they're sad and as hard as diamonds when they're happy, the sun and moon are moved with magic thanks to some royal up-chucks down in Equestria and there's a slaver king who is arming up for war and no one in your empire will fight him because he took some holy relic and hid it while he is also holding two VIP's hostage, who are royalty, and he's planning on mind rapeing the guy into being his bitch-bride, am I missing anything!?!"

Okay, maybe I haven't come to terms with it yet.

"H-h-he's... planning o-on ex-executing the p-princess tonight," Cutie, whose name was Sapphire, said with a soft whisper. "and the prince is married to her."

"Fan-faggot fucking-tastic!" I threw my arms up in exasperation and walked over to the nearest wall, where I banged my head against it a few times until I felt better. Jason whistled and I turned to glare at him, through a visor... fucking damn!

He whistled at me for a few moments and I started calming down, he gave me some good advice, "Okay okay, fuck you're pushy." I took a deep breath and released half of it a few times before I felt better. I reached over and dragged him to the far side of the room from the others and asked an important question.

"What are we on and how much?" He gestured a few times before holding up the hand sign for Rocket, absinthe and all of it. I groaned, "Well... this is either the most lucid and incredible high either of us have ever been on and we somehow are sharing the same trip... or we're dead and everyone in Hell is retarded and took a bath in some FEV."

He whistled a few times and I had to stifle a laugh, he did make a good point; might as well enjoy this weird world while we can, "Yeah, I got a few in my bag, including that one... we're gonna break their world, aren't we?" He nodded as I smiled, "So it's agreed; we're not high, in some kind of weird afterlife or on a alien mothership, as if aliens exist..." I trailed off as I snuck a glance at the two non-human humanoids behind us, "Oh, right. Well regardless, we've got a contract."

He nodded and we walked back towards the two "ponies" and asked, "What will the contract parameters be?" I asked the two giddy-up people, "We need to know who to kill and who to aim around."

Sword held up a hand, which wasn't missing a finger, they simply had less fingers naturally, because four is just too damn many I guess, "The only pony you need to kill is King Sombra and, if you can avoid it, please don't kill any of the guards, he's using some enchantments on their armour to control them. Take those or him out and the spell will cease."

"Kill the faggot slaver and try not to kill his "guards", anything else before we discuss pay?" I summarized.

Sapphire raised a hand and I nodded at her to continue, "If you can, try to find the Crystal Heart and rescue the princess, she would be incredibly useful for fixing everything he messed up and the Crystal Heart would be a boon to her task."

"And try to get evidence of King Sombra's war plans," Sword added, "I've heard about how Equestrians are a bit... squeamish, when it comes to killing. It would definitely be in your favour."

"Kill the faggot slaver, rescue the prince's virgin ass, save the princess' neck, keep the casualties low, find a big ass shiny rock and obtain war plans." Jason and I nodded at each other before I asked the most vital question of all, "how much does a beer cost?"

*Contract added; First contact contract. Contract objective; Kill King Sombra, optional Contract objectives; rescue the prince, minimize casualties, find the Crystal Heart, rescue the princess, obtain war plans.*

A discussion about currency, bartering and a small disagreement over alcohol later, Sapphire was leading me and Jason out of the winding and confusing crystal mine. She told us that we were found near no-mare's zone, which was kinda like no-man's land but with a shitload of hiding ponies in the deep and the king's "guards" were up at the surface. We didn't see any other giddy-up people on our way up, some tracks and mining tools, but that made sense considering this was a mine and the people weren't fighters, just families.

Shorty was behind us as we travelled, he said he was a lieutenant in the guard and he led several hundred citizens into the mines when the king came back, but I'll believe it when I see him in armour, which he wasn't wearing because magic mind control bullshit and blah blah...

Okay, so I tuned most of his explanation out, bite me. We spent a little of the trip discussing the city itself and I had to remember to stay stone faced, even with my balaclava, breathing mask and helmet. Seriously, my imagination is not good enough to make a fucking city made of crystal, even high, maybe gold with flowing rivers of vodka and naked sexy people everywhere, but not crystal.

After several long minutes of travel, Sapphire held a hand up, reminding me of their weird ass hands, and we stopped. "We won't go any farther, from here his patrols would catch us and..."

"We got it," I told her, "Gruesome torture, interrogation and evil incarnate bashing down the your little vault door. Any last minute advice?"

"Don't let them take you alive," I turned around, giving Short my undivided attention for once, "King Sombra's cruelty knows no bounds."

"Just like my libido," I love hearing these ponies' sputter, watching them blush is just the bonus, "Now if we're all done here... Turn the fuck around and go back to cowering you bitch ponies!"

Without waiting, me and Jason started heading up the tunnel, him in front with his sub with me trying to stay quiet with my shottie. Needless to say, his ability to carry all of his shit at all times, while being stealthy, keeps on amazing me.

A few minutes after we left our two pony employers behind, I tapped Jason on the shoulder and we ducked behind a mine cart, the sound of approaching metal armoured bodies echoing in the crystal mine shaft, giving us a early warning. Jason held up a hand over my Pip-boy and made the sign for flashbang and restrain. I clicked the overbright mode off and we sat in the dark, a single pin on the ground next to a roll of duct tape.

I waited until they were right on top of us before I threw the loveable little explosive into their midst. Once the flashbang went off, we rushed into them. I ran around the cart, grabbed a pony's arm and spun him into the hard and unforgiving crystal ground. A quick stomp to the back his helmet as he was trying to get up sent his ass packing into the sweet realm of knocked-out-by-a-girl-land.

I stood up and did a quick headcount, there were five more on their feet, hooves, whatever, with two of them kicking the thin air as Jason choked them with one hand for each bitch. Their armour covered most of their body, including their necks but that didn't stop Jason from using their own weight against them or bashing their heads together.

With a feral grin hidden behind my breathing mask, I charged at the next one just as he was finally able to get his hands away from his eyes, two left jabs and a vicious right cross sent him to the ground. Once more, boot meet head, head meet boot. Twice for good measu- ah who am I kidding, he was out the first time, the second was for fun.

Jason threw his two bitches to the ground and pulled his knives out while I was slipping my spiked knuckles on. I turned to him with a hidden smile, "Let's show these ponies why Talons are the best mercenaries ever made."

Meanwhile, in an alternate universe, a man in a red and black full body spandex suit with a pair of handguns on his hips and a pair of katanas on his back was sitting in his chair, scratching his nuts. He turned a bored eye to the room and looked around, simply killing time until killing time.

"Ah-ah... achoo!" His eyes widened, causing his mask to mirror the action, "Oh Hell no, someone's talking shit!"

He whipped his phone out of nowhere and quickly paged through it for a few moments until he found the webpage he was looking for and started reading. After he had finished the first two chapters, he turned to the left with a raised eyebrow that was, once again, mirrored by his mask, "Really G4COD, you made two fanfics about mercs and I wasn't the star of either of them?" He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose while the author tried to explain his fear of ~~the immortal~~ getting Deadpool's character wrong.

"Yeah yeah, I mean, they sound deadly and all but... they still aren't nearly as awesome as me. No matter what the bitch says." With that, Deadpool got up and walked into his bathroom with the intent of wiping his face and washing his mask, muttering about annoying cameos and going back to work with MrAquino, in spite of his annoying censorship.

Meanwhile, a young adult male simply sighed at the Merc with a Mouth's attitude. Mentally throwing any future attempts to write about him into a bucket.

Which he filled with gasoline and and paper before he buried it in his trash burning pit. The flames of fear reached fifteen feet and alerted several nearby neighbors.

One of them rushed me, jabbing a spear at my midsection with intent to kill, only for me to divert the weapon and feed her a fist full of pain. As she was stumbling back, another tried the same trick, only for me to catch the spear just under the blade and I, once again, fed a bitch. The two of them shared a look through their helmets and I didn't even need to guess what their plan was.

The two of them started walking around my flanks, trying to catch me unprepared, something I am most certainly not is ever unprepared, "So you wanna play rough, okay!"

I pulled my Pip-boy up and, through years of practice, quickly selected the one thing in my arsenal I, for the life of me, couldn't understand how I ever got by without, "Say hello to my little friend!"

I activated my Pip-boy's module.

My grandparents told us to never play with our Pip-boys, that they're sturdy computers that shouldn't be messed with because we may just find a way to break something. I respect my grandparents, they were tough SoB's after all, but sometimes a girl just got to have fun. Yes, I got drunk one night and started tinkering with my Pip-boy.

What I had found the morning after, through the haze of a killer hangover, was that my Pip-boy, and Jason's, had a space for a module. I shared my findings with Jason and, after convincing him, I added a modified stealth-boy to his.

Now several weeks later, I was scrounging through a factory when I came across something, it was a module that would inject Turbo into me, giving me the edge I've been looking for. An edge I was all too overjoyed to use on the giddy-up guards. Now Turbo is an intense drug, it raises your heartbeat, your reflexes are multiplied and everything, including you, seems like it's stuck in the Potomac River in January, slow and sluggish.

I love that feeling more than almost anything. My brother, the rush of Turbo, nice ass, liquor and pay. Those are my five favorite things in this, as well as any other, world and their priority is in that order. Oh, but combining three of those things, you don't know sexy until you hear someone cry out in ecstasy for minutes on end while you're nearly blackout drunk.

I took a step back as the spears pierced the air where I was not even a heartbeat before, a grin coming to my lips as I watched the two of them fumble. Just as they reached the point where their balance was the most fucked, I cocked a fist and unlessed it into the bitch on my right, followed by another before she even had time to realize she was hit, followed by a third that crashed into her nose and sent her sprawling.

I turned toward the other bitch, who was trying to recover from her lost balance, as well as the sight of a black blur that just knocked her comrade out in under a second. If I could see her eyes, I would see the eyes of someone who was almost petrified with fear, some from their enchanted armour but a fair amount from me.

I ran forward, closing the distance at an inhuman speed even though it felt like I was also trying to move through a swamp, it was a swamp that hindered others much more then it hindered me. Before she could raise her pointy stick, I had already grabbed it and pulled, bringing her face into my hungry fist three times more than necessary. So about four times.

By the time she had hit the ground, most of the effects were wearing off, aside from the massive amount of adrenaline that was still burning through my veins. With a shaky breath, I turned around just in time to watch as Jason sent the last of the guards flying off of his circley hooves with the Overlord's Super Sledgehammer.

"Why did you need to use that?" I asked as I retrieved the duct tape, his response was the hand signs for fuck you, that's why, which was flip me off and give a few dismissive waves.

I didn't argue. Truth is, I could've easily beat the fuck out of those two bitches with my module, but I'll be damned if I don't get to play with my toys now and then. Oh and I could've been hurt, but I would probably get away with a stick in my knee.

Why does the thought of a stick in my knee fill me with dread?

Anyway, me and Jason set about restraining the ponies, but whatever the Hell magic bullshit that made them follow a slaver's orders wasn't on their helmet, seeing as to how one of them tried to bite me. I knocked a few of his teeth out, after all; magic bullshit blah blah blah should probably be able to cover dental. Sure we could have taken a knife to their armour's straps and freed them of their obedience, but we weren't getting paid to set guards free.

We were gonna get paid to kill their master.

"Hey Jason," I said as me and him approached the mine's exit, "Just what kind of shit do you think is gonna happen when we get done with this?"

He shrugged, probably making plans to stick a screwdriver up his ass, "I mean, from what those two said, this is a brand new world that we're on; don't you think we should be freaking out a little?"

Again, he shrugged and I nodded, "Fair enough, that whole being a bitch shit can wait or, even better, happen to someone else-"

Jason and I walked out of the mine, both of us raising a hand to protect our eyes after so long in the mine. Once the glare faded enough for us to see, Jason gave off a long, impressed whistle and I agreed.

"-after all, we got a job to do."

Author's Note

Yes well, you got shorted on their death scene. What, did anyone ever stop your Lone Wanderer on their journey? I didn't think so. Questions and comments will encourage me to continue this, so do your part. Oh, and here's some music from someone who help inspire this story.

...To how Deadpool invaded... Wait, what?!

Incase you didn't get the idea from the chapter name, this chapter is a joke. It starts right after Deadpool walked into his restroom.

About a minute later, the Merc with a Mouth left his bathroom and pulled out his own copy of Fallout Three, placed the disk in his PC and performed his jingle. “Blue skidoo, we can too!” Right after he finished his dance, he was sucked into the monitor.

Before we could have our fun, we heard what was essentially some weird, annoying music with a weird chanting to it. Turning, we saw what was a man in full red body suit with some black parts, dancing to the annoying music with the most terrible skills anyone in the Capital Wasteland could witness. He didn’t look like a Raider by any means, but he had two noticeable swords sheathed onto his back and two pistols holstered at the hip. We didn’t need to talk, as he wasn’t one of our men, nor was he from any other mercenary group we knew of, so, he must've fit into the completely fucking retard category.

"Stop stop stop!" I yelled, "You dance like a drunk guy who's also high on Ultra Jet trying to fuck! And yes, I know what that looks, and feels, like." Jason simply shook his head in agreement while trying to avoid picturing the scene I described.

“Busquz me!!!” The stranger replied like a sassy black woman, somehow, wearing a pre-war granny outfit, complete with a fake wig, “Do you haves any idea how swag I look with that type of dancin’!? Girls be on my d**k like Luna is with me!... Raow.” He disappeared and reappeared next to us and we both jumped back in surprise. “So, whatcha both doin’? Finding Caps? Finding that one thing you’ve been sent for? Getting to level twenty? Or do you guys have the Broken Steel DLC?”

Jason and I shared a quick glance before I realised something, "Magic... Fuckin' hate it already." I sighed before looking back at the guards we were supposed to incapacitate and yelled, "Really, here too! God damn it we're talking, you guys don't need to fucking stop!"

“Magic!? Pfft! I don’t use magic.” He picked me up. “Unless… you want to make magic… in bed, you sexy thing.” I felt his hand grab my ass and, in spite of what Jason may think, I didn't enjoy it.

Too much...

"I've done a lot of things, and your crazy ass isn't going to be one of them," Jason whistled at me and I glared at him, "No, I do regret fucking that one ghoul."

“Hm… kinky.” He turned to see the guards, who I noticed were all females and were still frozen in place. “...Wait a minute… what are you doing with these mares?”

"Knocking them out with nonlethal means," I replied as he set me down, "So that’s what a bitch in this world is called."

“Uh, yeah… mares are female horses you dumb f**k. Or, in this case, ponies! Sweet, mostly innocent, adorable ponies that just want me to cuddle with them and make ‘em squeak!”

Okay, this guy was either crazy as all Hell, high on some really extreme shit or was grade A retarded, "Fuck you and your shit, anyone on the east coast knows that horses died out in the Great Plague of twenty ninety. Who the fuck are you and why shouldn't I duct tape your dick to a mininuke?"

“Ah, don’t be such a spoiled sport. Call me Deadpool; it rhymes with ‘No school’, ‘Too cool’, ‘Ain’t no fool’, and ‘I’m the best there is at what I do’. And, if you want a D**k, then you might enjoy films with Dick Van Dike!”

Yeah, I was pretty sure I, or him, was as high as a Vertibird... but this was still not the single craziest person I've ever met, "One question Deadpool, where the fuck is that damn bleeping noise coming from, because I really want to break whatever the damn Hell is making it."

“Censorship. I know, I f**king hate it as well. Happens every time I swear." Deadpool casually replied, as if a magical censorship curse was a ordinary thing, "MrAquino knows I hate it and has made it a curse on me. For example... F**K YOU YOU FAT MOTHER F**KER!!! EAT A PIECE OF S**T AND MICHAEL BAY’S D**K, YOU C**T!!!... See? Censorship.”

Okay, fuck this. I pulled my backpack off and reached in, grabbing something I've been saving for a special occasion or as a finisher to a hot date and a long, but fun, night, "Here, go play with explosives."

I held out a remote detonator and a mininuke I rigged to it for the weird fuck to take.

“...Really? I’ve seen enough Looney Toons to know where this is going. If you want to trick me, then you gotta be like ‘Hey! You’re going to get Deadpool 2 right now!’ and with that, then I’ll take it and reply with something witty like ‘Finally! And after another failure of Fantastic 4, you deserve this money!’ Let’s try it, shall we?”

Jason whistled and I nodded, "Fuck it, go ahead." With that, Jason wrapped some duct tape around Deadpool's mouth and I helped him tape the explosive to the freak's crotch. Both of us took an end and picked him up, swinging him towards the deeper part of the mine.

After he landed at what I'd call a safe distance, and what Jason would call danger close, I picked the detonator up and pulled the trigger, the distinct mushroom cloud of Hell fire was the final word in that conversation, "I'm really starting to hate my job... but damn it if the perks ain't awesome."

Jason whistled at me and I realised he was right, "Fuck, we caused a cave in, how the fuck do we get paid now?" Another explosion made us jump. Deadpool came out, now with a white robe over his suit & had on fake, long brown hair & a beard.

“I am Jesus!” He proclaimed “My father loves me! Watch as I turn these two f**kbois into p***ies!” He teleported back to us and sucker punched Jason in the face. “AND HE’S DOWN!!! SUCK IT, B***H!!!” He pulled out and threw a... black dick -I didn't even know they could come without the guy attached!- at Jason’s face. “And, if you’re wondering, I get lonely sometimes… and I like it in the butt every now & then.”

With a couple of whistles, Jason sat up, "Jason says that he's been punched by ghouls with their arms almost rotted off, and yet you managed worst." I pulled my two Plasma Defenders out and aimed them at the freak's face, "Was there a reason you're here, or are you just looking for someone to end your misery?"

“Well… I wish I had more of a reason rather than help this story get at least one hundred more views and make the author feel happy with them… but at the same time, I’ve experimented many times and I can’t die! Seriously! Try it out. Go on… I’ll show ya.”

Without any warning, or really needing the prompt, Jason wrapped his left arm around the crazy fuck's throat and picked him up. His right hand pulling his twelve-point-seven out of its holster and placing the barrel flush with the man's temple before spraying a quick burst into his skull.

"Half an inch wide per bullet, that should keep ya down." I chucked as I aimed my plasma pistols at the mares before I sent a disabling shot into one leg each, the wounds leaking the deadly fourth state of matter but thankfully I didn't dismember them with a critical hit, "and you bitches, hit them kness!"

“Hold on… give me moment.” The fucker’s still alive!? He stood back up, albeit he stumbled a bit, and we saw the clean hole in his head filling up on it’s own until it was completely healed. “Ta-Da! I’m still alive! And not a zombie! … Unless you count the Marvel Zombie comics… oh wait… I was bitten there, and real zombies hate my flesh… Ooh! I won’t be in the Twilight remakes! SUCK IT, BLADE!!!”

"Okay... that was impressive and I once saw a man take a missle to the chest..." I replied as Jason was taping the injured guards up.

“Then I took an arrow to the knee.” Out of nowhere, a arrow flew and hit him in the knee. “AHH!!!”

"How about a hatchet to the face?" Imagine my surprise when a hatchet flew outta nowhere and cracked his skull open, "Sweet. Make it rain bullets, energy weapon cells, sexy naked people, explosives and liquor of all kinds!"

Jason whistled at me and I deflated, "Right, underground. Fucking ripoff."

“You know what’s also a ripoff? THIS!!!” Deadpool grabbed both of our heads… and farted in our faces for more than ten seconds. It penetrated our breathing masks and... well, let's just say that Raider corpses were a bottle of Nuka-cola compared to the smell. “See, and this is why you don't get Taco Bell...and why I should've worn brown pants.” We saw a brown blotch appear on the ass of his pants.

I wasn't happy.

I knew Jason wasn't happy.

The injured guards were moaning from pain, and likely from the stench, so they weren't happy.

The only one here who was happy was the fucking freak in the weird ass costume, which was a guess seeing as he wore as full face mask. That somehow resembled his emotions.

“And I ain't gonna explain why!” he blurted, pushing us both away. “And nor this!” He somehow pulled out a top hat, a freshly cleaned one, might I add, and a cane with a song playing seemingly out of nowhere.

♬Hello, my baby
Hello, my honey
Hello, my ragtime gal

Send me a kiss by wire
Baby, my hearts on fire

If you refuse me
Honey, you'll lose me
Then you'll be left alone

Oh baby, telephone
And tell me I'm your own♬

He flopped to the floor and croaked like a frog.

That broke me; not the fact that I died nor the magical horse people, the stupid belief that some cunt can raise the fucking sun or that me and Jason accepted a contract on some faggot slaver king.

Jason simply pulled his sub out and shot himself in the head, I nodded numbly before placing my shotgun to my chin and saying a single word before I pulled the trigger, "Nope."

Deadpool stood back up and looked over the bodies of the Mercs. “Huh… guess they never watched Looney Toons.” He commented, poking Jason's body with a stick. “Man, I know the post-apocalypse is tough, but they should watch some cartoons!... Oh yeah, different universe. Well… if I'm gonna leave right now, only one thing to do!!!”

He pulled out a sharpie pen. “I'm doing this for you, Jiggly Puff!!! You'll always be the best Before-Lady Gaga impersonator in anime and Pokémon!!!” He chuckled to himself as he drew the Pringles guy mustache on Jacob with buck teeth, the troll face, and a detailed, near realistic drawing of Leonardo Dicaprio bashing the bullet hole with his Oscar. As for the other, he drew an anime style cat face all over his face, though he had enough space to make a speech bubble saying ‘I <3 Dicks’, followed by multiple genitalia popping out of each pellet hole.

“And now, the sexy part!” he took theirs clothes off and replaced them with cowboy outfits, followed by posing their bodies to make it look like they were spooning each other. To add more insult to injury, Deadpool gave both his special brand of vvibrators, hacking their Pip-boy's codes and making them quest items. When he was done, he turned to the mares.

“... You better get home quickly.”

Author's Note

Well, this happened... Yeah, this whole chapter is non-canon. Deadpool was written by MrAquino. It started when I asked him if he could check and make sure I wasn't messing up Deadpool's character, but spiralled out of control and became this. Please tell me what you think! Please.