Fallout: Equestria- The Frontlines

by Timeless Toaster

Rating: mature
Tags: Alternate Universe, Crossover
Length: 3208

The Wasteland may have been healed, but it will soon reemerge stronger than ever.

Ten years.
It has been ten years since Equestria was restored to her former, Pre-War glory with the Gardens of Equestria.
As a soldier in the New Canterlot Republic, life was pretty easy in the beginning.
But like all diseases, signs of the Wasteland began to appear across Equestria, bringing back the list of horrors and infectious habits that once plagued the land.
So this begs the question: Where does betrayal rank on the list?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-13 01:40:01 UTC

Just an Ordinary Day

"Appleoosa?! Only steers and queers come from Appleoosa! And I don't see any horns on you boy, so that must make you a queer!"

-Drill Sergeant Obsidian to Recruit Lasso on the first day of Basic Training.

"Patrolling the Badlands makes you wish for a early winter." grumbles the buck next to me as he wipes a swath of sweat from his forehead with a foreleg, makes a face of disgust at the sheer amount of sweat covering his coat, then proceed to wipe his foreleg on the jacket of his uniform.

"I know Sledge, I know. You only say that every time we sit out here." I say in an annoyed tone. I reach a hoof back to scratch my back, scowling at the motion. "I just wish they didn't make these uniforms out of fucking wool. It's driving me insane." I growl, the scratching intensifying to a point where I gave myself some rug burn.

Great, as if exhaustion wasn't enough.

"Well, wool was the only material they could find in the old uniform factories. I find it quite comfortable." Sledge replies, a smug grin on his lips. I cast a glance at the bulky earth pony buck, finding his statement a total case of pure bullshit.

"Last time I heard, you were scrambling around the camp looking for a better detergent to use on your uniform while washing it. So therefore, you are full of shit." I snap, grinning a bit at his stunned look. The surprised look only lasts a few seconds before morphing to one of concern.

"Crasher, are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine. Just fine." I say bitterly, rubbing at my eye with a hoof. Unsatisfied with my answer, the buck examines me closely, scratching his chin with a hoof. "Mind getting out of my face?" I ask, a quick anger already rising in my mind. The buck backs away a bit before speaking again.

"You sure you're okay?" he asks. I sigh once again and look to him, annoyance dancing behind my eyes. "Look, I didn't get much sleep last night. My mind wound't shut up. So I'd greatly appreciate it if you stopped bugging me right now." I say, letting my exhaustion show. The buck nods quietly, mumbles a 'Sorry', then the both of us stare out at the dusty horizon as silence fell over us, save for the occasional gust of warm wind and the random clicks and buzzes of the local desert life.

Sledge and I were both isolated out in the middle of nowhere. Roughly seven miles behind us sat Outpost Fifty-Six, while four miles ahead of us sat the boarder between the Badlands and Central Equestria. At that boarder, another two ponies were probably bickering between themselves as they waited for the next supply convoy to approach. We were the mid-way checkpoint, and the only line of defense between the main boarder and Outpost Fifty-Six. Our little checkpoint was made up of sandbags, a recently built shack with an outhouse, and a radio. As far as weapons went, I was armed with a standard issue NCR service rifle, while Sledge was lucky enough to get his hooves on a rather heavily modified Battle Rifle, which he promptly nicknamed 'Hammer'.

Sledge once offered me to give Hammer a try.

Needless to say, the rifle's recoil didn't like me and kept me in the infirmary for two weeks with a broken snout from where the rifle butt smacked me. In my defense, I ignored his warnings to make sure I had a firm hold on Hammer.

The only other major piece of weaponry was a mounted Balefire Egg launcher. It hasn't seen much action, aside from purely annihilating  a group of Cazadors that wandered near our little piece of hell. Other than that, it is all bark and no bite, all show and no glory.

That and we used the only Balefire Egg that came with it. So it is literally just a showpiece, on a tripod, behind some sandbags collecting desert dust.

With a groan, Sledge lurched forward onto his hooves. "I'm going to grab a drink. Need anything?" Sledge asks me as he stands up and approaches our little guard shack.

"A pillow." I say flatly, putting my head on top of my forelegs. He lets out a barking laughter before stopping and looking at me.

"Are you serious? You know we can't nap on the job." he remind me. I nod and grumble, wishing for the moment we can switch with Bravo squad so that I could get back to my bunk and just let my bed seduce me. I raise my head and let out a little yawn.

"I know, I know. I wouldn't mind a Sunrise Sarsaparilla. I need some caffeine." I say, trying to give him a sweet smile. He nods before turning and moving into the guard shack. "Although I really do need a nap..." I mentally growl, rubbing my eyes again, this time with a yawn. I have only known Sledge for roughly a few years, and he loved reminding me of protocol like he was my brother. I met him in Basic Training in New Canterlot. He was from a farm family somewhere in the Wasteland, having only been a teenager when the Gardens of Equestria was activated, just like me. However, I came from the coastal area of Hoofington, having seen the cleansing wave wash over from Mainland Equestria. When I could strike out on my own, I left the Hoofington area and took a boat across the sea to the mainland and lived outside the Manehatten Ruins for a few years before enlisting in the NCR. After enduring four years of military training and survival tactics, Sledge and I were assigned to the 42nd Mechanized Infantry at Outpost Fifty-Six.

Since then, we've been stuck here, guarding an invisible line from sunrise to sunset.

"I'm gonna turn up the radio, Mister New Equestria is on!" I hear Sledge call out from the shack. Almost instantly, the smooth and charismatic voice of Mister New Equestria began to fill the desert air.

"Good afternoon everypony! And welcome to another round of 'Equestrian Classics'! The game where you call in and guess the name of a Pre-War song for a chance to win some prizes! I'm going to play an excerpt of a song and begin selecting callers right now! Here's the excerpt!"

From the radio waves began the section of the song Mister New Equestria selected. Being a Pre-War music lover myself, I instantly recognized the song as This Coming Storm. I would have called into the studio to enter my answer, but our radio doesn't quite reach his studio outside Manehatten. After a few seconds of the song, the excerpt was cut and a caller was selected.

"Hello caller number one! Do you have an answer?" Mister New Equestria asked.

"Uh, yeah. Is it Boogie Woogie Bugle Buck?" asked a young mare.

"Oh, I'm sorry! But that is not even remotely close! But you're not going empty-hooved! You're going to get a fifteen bit gift card to Doughnut Joe's! Hello caller number two? What is your answer?" Mister New Equestria continued.

"Uh, not an answer. More like a question. Why don't you report the news going on in Equestria? I know why, because the NCR is-" but the caller was suddenly cut off and soon Mister New Equestria came in with an uneasy laugh.

"Heh! Those crazy conspiracy theorists. Don't get out much, do they? We have time for one more caller. Caller number three? What is your answer?" he asks.

"This Coming Storm?" asks the buck simply. A series of dings went off, signalling the pony got the correct answer.

"That is correct! Congrats caller three, you're going to be receiving tickets for you and five others to this years' Grand Galloping Gala! Make sure you have your best suit and dress shoes!" Mister New Equestria said in a happy tone. "Expect your tickets in the mail within the next three-to-five days! And that rounds up this round of 'Equestrian Classics'! Playing for your listening pleasure now is none other than This Coming Storm. Enjoy!" and with that, Mister New Equestria was replaced by the tune.

Leaning back, I began to relax as the song played through the radio. I always enjoyed a good pre-war song, much more than the music that's being produced nowadays. Some were catchy and made you want to sing along, while others communicated a message of some sort, usually the sadness that war brought or the strong power of love in wartime. As I listened to the song, I was unaware of the hoofsteps that approached behind me, accompanied by the sliding bolt of Hammer. Raising an eyebrow, I turned to find myself face to face with the suppressor of Hammer. My blood ran cold as I looked past the body of the rifle to the cold gaze of Sledge as he wielded the rifle.

"S-Sledge...? Wh-what are you doi-ing...?" I asked, terror rising in my voice. Sledge hardened his stance as he pressed the rifle to my forehead. Tears began to form at the corners of my eyes, his silent response to my question not conveying any hope.

"Sorry Crasher, but orders are orders." He said gravely. I began to sob uncontrollably, realizing that I was about to be killed by my comrade, by my half-brother. I tried to beg for mercy, but my tears and incomprehensible blubbering made it hard for me to speak. Suddenly, Sledges' hoof pulled back on the trigger, plunging my world into one of pure darkness, accompanied by a soft THUMP!.

*     *     *

So... this is what death is like?  Just darkness and a sense of aimlessly floating around?

That's kind of...disappointing.

I could feel myself floating through space, but it felt like I was floating in the ocean. While my sight was nothing but blackness, my sense of touch was telling me that I was bumping into other forms and shapes, and that they were scurrying away from my floating form. My sense of hearing picked up whispers and whimpers, distant screams and sudden screams. Ponies begging for forgiveness, some begging for mercy. Others cackled madly while others openly wept.

Suddenly, something stopped me in my tracks, the feeling of my form being enveloped soon following.

"You...are not meant to die yet..." said a deep voice. "There are many things you must experience. There are many things you must stop. There are many things you must learn." the voice continued. "However, you won't be alone. You exist with another now, two corpses...in one grave..." finished the voice. Suddenly, a blinding light sparked in the darkness. At the same time, the feeling that my mind was being invaded by another presence overcame me, causing me to scream as a new voice joined the one in my mind.

"Hi! We're going to be great friends, aren't we?" said the voice of a rather peppy mare.

"Who are you!?" I mentally screamed, my form thrashing and contorting as the light sped towards me.

"Oh, you'll learn my name later. But for now, worry about coming back to life first." said the mare. Soon, the light enveloped me, pain shooting through my form as the force of life impacted my body with wave after wave, reigniting the sparks of life in my heart and brain. Soon, my form began to descend into a laying-down position.

And with that, the world went dark once again...

...And I was breathing.

*     *     *

I lurched forward from my laying position and screamed, sweat pouring off my face as I hyperventilated, my hooves in a flurry of movement as I felt around my body in an attempt to figure out how I was even alive. I tried opening my eyes, but they were being covered by something that was tightly wrapped around my head. Almost instantly, pain shot through my head due to the sudden movement, causing me to groan as I flopped back onto my bed, my hooves coming up to my wrapped head. The sounds of hurried hooves could be heard outside the door that led into my room.

Almost instantly, I could hear the door being ripped open something. Following immediately after was the sounds of hoofsteps and heavy panting.

"Was...that you...screaming?" asked a mare, gasping for air. I turned my head in the direction of the voice and gave an uneasy nod. "Well then...it's good to see that you pulled out alive..." she said as she took some deep breaths to stabilize her breathing.

"What do you mean...?" I asked quietly, my hoof rising to paw at the air, looking for the mare. I felt hooves wrap around mine to gently push it back onto the bed. I could see her silhouette through the wrappings, but no clear details.

"Oh darling, you took a bullet to the head. You were presumed dead when the clean-up teams found you. However, your injuries made you the perfect candidate for an experimental reconstruction surgery. I'm proud to say that I personally had a hoof in the surgery, so success was bound to happen!" she said cheerfully, patting my hoof. "Now let's see here..." she muttered. I could hear the sounds of magic being started. I could see the silhouette of a clipboard approach her.

"You said something about clean up teams...?" I asked, my bandaged face staring at her. I saw her shadowed head perk up, staring back at me.

"Oh! The clean up teams went into the Outpost after the battle. They mainly scavenge what they can, but they also get the wounded and left for dead out of the area and to medical help. Sometimes ponies pull through, sometimes all we can do is make them comfortable as they die from their injuries. It's a sad living really, but it pays the bills." she said, giving a sad sigh at the end.

"Battle...?" I ask, my confusion mounting even further. "Where am I?" I add.

"Oh...you must've been the first casualty..." she mutters, staring at me. "There was a...rather terrible battle at your Outpost...evidence shows that it was quick and brutal...your friends probably didn't see it coming. It was actually more of a strike than a battle. As for where you are, you are in the Saving Grace Field Hospital in New Appaloosa." she said, putting the clipboard back to where it came from, resting herself on the edge of the bed. She placed a gentle hoof on my foreleg and stared at me, but I couldn't tell her expression. "Are you alright? Do you remember anything before you were shot?" she asks.

"Honestly, I have no clue how I feel right now. And as for what I remember..." I trailed off. In my minds' eye, I could see the rugged face of an earth pony buck, a rifle aimed between my eyes.

But for the life of me, I couldn't remember his name.

"I remember a buck...standing over me with a rifle to my face..." I whisper. The mare gives a mutter as she looks over her clipboard.

My body began to shake violently as a rising anger began to boil rapidly. I could feel the mare lean back from me, afraid I might lash out at her.

"How soon until I'm released?" I asked, my voice sounding harsh as I tried to keep my anger from exploding.

"U-uhm...probably not for another week or so. We have to send you through rehabilitation tests to make sure everything is working..." she trails off. "Please, ma'am, calm down. Getting worked up may cause some further damage." she warned, moving her hooves in a 'calm down' gesture.

"Don't call me ma'am. I do have a name." I growled. The doctor was silent, then nodded slowly.

"Then may I know it?" she asked, the clipboard floating beside her once again with a pen so that she may write down my name.

"My name is..." I growled, trailing off. "My name is..."

"Come on! Come on!"

"My...name...is..."

Then it dawned on me.

I can't remember my name either.

Or anything else for that matter...

Footnote: Level Up! Quest Perk Added- Foggy Memory: You remember what the guy who shot you looks like, but that's pretty much it! All skills and memory that you had are now gone. You still know how to walk and talk, but trained skills and abilities are temporarily suspended until you relearn them, or have a sudden memory rush. Perk Added: Scar Face- Despite medicines' best attempts, you were left with a noticeable scar on your pretty face. You gain the ability to intimidate foes in order to scare them off from a fight.

Prologue: A Healed World

We've all heard the old saying about war, right?

"War. War never changes."

That's it. Just four, simple words. Those words used to describe the harshness and cruelty that inhabit the world, no matter what condition it is in.

However, I'd like to be the first to say that statement is no longer true, nor applies to the world we live in. Ten years ago, the Gardens of Equestria were activated and sent a healing wave over the scarred and ruined land that was the Equestrian Wasteland. With this, the Enclave, among many other factions, were broken and forced to scuttle to their holes and lick their wounds. With some breathing room, a new seed of civility was allowed to be planted and grow; the New Canterlot Republic. Soon, NCR troops began to reclaim the now healed Wasteland bit by bit, cleansing the freed lands from the remaining darkness that had infected them.

Sadly, this only lasted a few years before the Wasteland began to reemerge...

...and fight back.

At first, it was only small, random attacks by desperate Raiders on travelling troop convoys. The Raiders would be spotted, cut down, then the attack was reported in to a commanding officer to be filed away. But one day, there was one convoy that never reported in to Outpost Seventy-Three near what used to be The Great Applewood Divide. After sending a search party for the convoy, the remains of said convoy were discovered roughly twenty-one miles out from Outpost Seventy-Three. The attack was marked down as random, the troops were given proper burials and ceremonies, and soon it was all forgotten about.

Then another Raider attack happened almost a week later, roughly a days' trot from Outpost Thirty-Eight near the Manehatten Ruins.

Then another just two days later, seven miles from Outpost Ninety-Four near New Appeloosa.

And the attacks only mounted from there. Soon, NCR command could no longer ignore these attacks and sent out a general order to all outposts to set up boarder patrols around their perimeters. This worked for a while, but soon even the boarder guards were being killed in the same manner as the convoys.

Now, the NCR is on edge, desperate to find the source of these attacks, and praying to the Goddesses above that the attacks can be stopped before it is too late.

But for Private Crasher, it is already too late for her.

Fallout: Equestria

The Frontlines