Chapter One: In Need for Some Sprockets
Chapter One: In Need for Some Sprockets
Day 1
3:09 A.M. EQS (Equestrian Standard Time)
"Sprocket!" The stern, unwavering voice of a stallion echoed through the single room of an old shack as he banged on the thin steel door, the paint on it worn thin from previous punishment of being hit to wake the resident it kept so terribly hidden away from.
"Sprocket?! I swear you better be in there." The banging got louder, in addition to the hinge pins dancing in their slots.
Steel blue eyes opened slowly and looked back towards the door, they rolled as a blanket tugged itself over them. Though with all the constant banging, Sprocket doubt he was going to go back to sleep anytime soon. He sighed and rolled onto his haunches, sitting himself up and stretching, "Yeah yeah, I'm here." he called out, picking out a few bugs from his auburn fur. One of the many perks of living in New Appleloosa, at least, it was for where he was living. As he got up, he stared at the poor door, seeing it cave towards him with each hit before taking back its former shape. "Fucking let me sleep every once in a while you prick." He muttered before walking over and opening the door.
"Finally. Jeez, what took you so long." The stallion said, towering a full head over Sprocket, staring down at him with violently vibrant evergreen eyes. He donned a desperado hat, worn down goggles to where the leather had become more of a soft fiber than the strap it was really meant to be, a trench coat, the tail of it softened and covered in a thick layer of dirt, and over it, just like any other guard he walks past, was a Battle Saddle, outfitted with a heavy assault carbine.
One of which Sprocket had 'Fine-Tuned' to be a bit more accurate, a smile running over his lips when he saw it.
Though not this time. "Yeah, because EVERYONE is up and about at three in the morning." he said, adding to his passive-aggressive insult with a waving hoof at all the ponies walking the street, which is to say none. "You swear I better be in my house? I swear you better have a good reason why you keep preventing me from having a good nights sleep, Grinder."
Grinder tilted his hat back, staring down at Sprocket nonchalantly, "That's a lot of steam coming from such a little guy. The chain drive to the gate is broken and we can't close it. We need you to fix it." He nodded his head back towards the road, further down it the Northern entrance to Appleloosa. Though he leaned his head in closer to Sprocket, "And uh... yeah... the old man tried fixing it."
Sprockets eyes opened wide and he rushed back into his small shack, grabbing a beat up tool box, the red paint that use to give it a new glossy shine gone and replaced with the cold steel and rust spots. He levitated it onto his side, latching the buckles and running past Grinder,
"You think he would have learned from last time."
"Yeah, still can't believe you did that."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Last Week. Approx. 1:15 P.M. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"God DAMNIT." Sprocket levitated a wrench over to loosen the bolt to a busted gear, in which the teeth to it had shredded the inner workings of the generator that ran the gates controls, a lever that was either pushed forward, or pulled backwards. And yet somehow, the idiots running it couldn't even handle THAT job, much less try and do HIS job and fuck it up even further. "Who in the hell tried doing my job again? Huh?" He stared at the several station guards looming over him, watching him clean his glasses of grease before putting them back one before their eyes turned towards a middle aged stallion trying to sneak away.
"Trigger Hoof, I don't care how important you THINK you are, stop trying to do my fucking job." Sprocket spat at the ground before turning back to the broken gear and sighing. He looked up at the shanty gate, lodged half open to where they could see nothing but wasteland and radiation dust storms flying across the dried, cracked ground for tens of miles, well, save the railways that went into town.
"Listen, ah' was just trying tah fix it...." Trigger Hoof started.
"Fix it, my plot. You just destroyed half the generator, that door won't be closing anytime soo-" Sprockets assertion towards chewing out the old geezer was halted when a bullet whizzed past his ear. He thought he could actually HEAR the caliber with how close it was, seeing strands of fur from his ear falling towards the ground.
The guards scattered and Sprocket sat there in shock for how close to death he had come, probably just shook hooves with him and gave him a friendly hug. He turned his eyes out towards the door, several figures running towards it.
"RAIDERS" One of the guardsponies called out as he drew his weapon and aimed, focusing down the iron sights, and firing, his body shaking as the carbine rattled his body with three consecutive bursts, though all three shots missing. "Shit!"
Sprocket was still sitting in the same spot from when he nearly met death, his left ear ringing to a near deafening pitch, the right distantly hearing the gun fight of both parties returning fire. He couldn't move, though he could still see everything that was going on, watching one get hit in the shoulder and grunting as he fell under his own weight, blood staining the dirt and splashing against the rail line.
'Move.'
He watched as a raider with a meat cleaver began running toward him with a crazed look, as all the guards had retreated towards the guard towards, composed mostly of old railway cars, for better cover.
"Sprocket, get outta there! What're doing? Snap out of it!" He heard Trigger call out to him from behind a haystack.
'He's right. Move.'
Sprocket could see the dried blood on the raiders race, that crooked smile of broken, yellow, tobacco stained teeth holding the cleaver showing that they were going to make him their next victim.
"Sprocket!"
'MOVE' Sprocket reflexively closed his eyes.
"I'm gonna use yer balls as a fuckin' hacky sack!" The raider called out as he was ready to swing his meat cleaver.
But that swing never came, he never felt the dull, chipped blade, dig into his flesh. Instead he heard a barrage of bullets and the thud of a body. Slowly opening one eye, he saw the raider, staring at him with empty eyes, his life now represented in a growing pool of blood on the ground, seeping towards his hooves. Sprocket began to shake, looking at all of the blood. He could feel his stomach churning, growling and flexing, bubbling and burning his insides.
He turned to the side and heaved, spittle hanging from his mouth before his lunch followed, splattering on the ground. He leaned there for a while longer before realizing something.
The gunfire had stopped.
So had the insistent, and lewd, howls of the Raiders.
His body tensed nonetheless as he felt a hoof nudge his shoulder. "Ya'll right?" A familiar voice asked out. Sprocket turned his head to see the rusty colored pegasus staring at him with a half cocked eyebrow and steaming dual assault rifles lowered now that the threat was over.
Sprocket wiped his lips of bile and coughed, sitting up, though still shaking, and nodded his head, "Y-yeah... Helluva time to show up, Calamity."
"An' exactly that too, the only reason ah' ahm' here is cause of th' caravans." He patted his back and chuckled as Sprockets glasses slid down his muzzle.
He gave a half chuckle, more forced than anything, before giving a dead panned look at Calamity and forcing himself to stand up with a grunt.
The pegasus continued to stare at him as the unicorn walked over to the steaming generator, "I uh... I need my tools.... We need to fix this up."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Present*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Grinder laughed, "Good thing Candi had those muscle relaxants huh? Bet you would still be shaking right now without them."
Sprocket rolled his eyes, Candi was a good doctor if not their only doctor, and perhaps a little... off with how she looks at him when he comes in for his 'Fix' as she calls it, he brushed off the thoughts as he came up to see the gate opened completely, able to see the mangled mess of the chain that ran it and also preventing it from closing, or at least, just a few of the links. He sighed happily at it, he could fix it before raiders could get through it this time.
He slowed to a trot, then a canter as he halted at the gate, the heavy chain swaying softly in the wind. He felt a bead of sweat trail down the side of his head and wiped it off, frowning before being lurched forward by a push on the back.
"Come on, bud! It can't be that bad, there are no raiders coming to kill you, and specifically you, this time."
"Thanks." he responded blandly as he levitated out a few tools, more specifically a grease injector, a hammer, a clamp, and a thin pin that had a mushroomed end for being hit. He removed the damaged links with his magic and levitated the replacement parts up and connected them, rotating the gears and cycling the now repaired chain drive and making sure it moved correctly. He nodded to the pony operating the lever and he pulled it.
*CRKTHUNK*
Sprocket stared at the hulking gate even after it closed, his muscles twitching at the thought of everything out there. No... He hadn't even been out there and he had almost been killed.
It seems the world is too much even when he is confined to a small part of it.
He turned to Grinder and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, scratching the back of his creamy brown windswept mane, brushing along the cropped edges along the back of his neck, "Listen... uhm... I'm going to be at the bar if you need me." He said as he turned around and headed towards town.
"We'll try and give you some time to yourself, no promises if ol' Trigger Hoof breaks everything again."
He laughed and shook his head, "It's his talent, to fuck everything up."
After a few laughs and sharing insults, though not particularly towards one another, Sprocket head into town, seeing most of the traincarts lights off though the street lights one, giving the morally mutual town a certain charm he enjoyed. Looking up he could see the crane from the freight yard looming over, the hook swaying and creaking, letting its sounds echo through the streets.
He decided to take back his prior thought and replace it with 'charming and also creepy', and passed by a rather sad sight. Three traincars fused together to create a familiar store and housed... or once housed, one of his favorite, er... undead ponies.
'Absolutely Everything!', for all your needs, whether it be down with tin cans, up to food for your meals and the least irradiated water you could find, not to mention weapons and armor. Though, the doors had been closed for a long time, Ditzy Do had yet to come back from her last delivery.
He missed her... Sure she couldn't talk, due to missing her tongue and all, but the ghoul could truly listen and give him wonderful ideas for side projects. She even let him help out with fixing some of her armor she had scavenged every now and then.
You could NEVER find someone as kind as Miss Ditzy.
He frowned and continued walking through town until he found the bar a set of four freight cars welded to one another, making a massive room for a venue. He walked through the door to see a few ponies sitting at a table and a couple at the bar, drinking whatever they were drinking. He nodded at one of the ponies, a guard taking his break and drinking a bear while chatting with his friend.
"Hey, Scatter" he greeted, "Hope the shift is going well."
Scatter smiled and tilted an imaginary hat, "No raiders bud, don' reckon there will be any anytime soon either"
Sprocket gave a sigh of relief, "Thank you"
"Don't mention it."
He sat at the bar and looked up at the barkeep, giving her a tired look "Atomic Apple Whisky, and... can I keep the bottle?"
"I'll give you the rest of this one then" She leaned under the counter and pulled up a bottle with a faded sticker, though still able to make out the words. It was about a third full, and slowly pushed it over to him, "Listen, I know how it's been for you for the past few days, especially what happened last week, just... don't drown yourself this time."
He gave her a half smile, his magic enveloping the cork in a soft steel colored glow, about to pop it off and slowly drink it down until he was so hammered he would get his sleep for sure. But he just stared at the bottle. She was right...
The glow dissipated, and he looked back up at her, "You know... I'll uh... I'll save this for later... make it something special you know? How about a beer..."
She smiled and nodded, "Nice to see you're coming back to your senses. Two beers coming right up."
"Thanks, I- two?"
"Yeah, one for you, one for me. It's boring with the night shift after 12, all the story telling and drunkards are gone, which leaves the guards, you, and me, and I only know you as 'That cute stallion that stays hidden in his shack blowing stuff up now and then.'" She sat one beer in front of him and opened it before opening her and taking a swig.
"I like building stuff, no shame in that." Sprocket circled the tip of his hoof around the lip of the bottle before levitating it to his lips and taking a drink.
"There is when you worry the town with blowing it up like a balefire bomb."
Sprocket took the time to swallow the bitter elixir, before snorting, "You need to brew a LOT of weird stuff to make one of those, and a garlic clove, for the steam."
She stared at him, as though believing him.
He shrugged, "In all honesty I have no idea how to make one, don't worry, its mostly just messing with circuits from radios...Either taking them apart, putting them back together, turning them into something new, stuff like that."
"Aaaah.... Speaking of radios, think you could fix mine?"
He smiled, "How'd you break it? Thought you said no one really messes with your stuff when you're around."
She rolled her eyes and crossed her hooves, "Couple of slavers thought they owned the place and 'Accidentally' knocked my radio off the counter, hasn't worked right since."
"I see..." He leaned back, nodding his head and clacking the brown glass against his teeth, "Lemme see it then, I'll get it working in no time."
She turned around and picked up a radio, the case cracked and rattling things about, "Yeah, I don't think its suppose to make those sounds."
Sprocket used his magic to multitask, taking a drink while taking off the cover of the radio, to see several circuits disconnected and wires just hanging about it. He gave it a nonchalant look and re-attached the wires to their boards and closed the case, turning the knob to the side with a:
*Click*
Hello, once again, this is your ruler, Princes-
"Hate this station."
*Click*
Oh baby, right there, ah! AAH! O-
*Cough...* *Click*
WAKE UP WASTELANDERS, Haha~ That's right, its morning so get your gears in motion already!
"That's better"
This is DJ-Pon3 here for your latest, and greatest, news. Just kidding, it's usually bad news, such as your weather forecast! We have reports showing a radiation storm heading through Ponyville, glad nopony important lives there, which is to say, those pesky raiders! Let's give that recap in a few hours, shall we?
And an update, remember my faithful listeners, ponies have been disappearing lately, and I don't mean it as a magic trick. We don't know if it's because of those nasty, merciless raiders, or because of something else, but remember to lock your doors, barricade your windows, and do what you normally do every day.
And now, some music.
I don't want to set the world, on, fire
I just want to start a flame, in your heart....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Finally, glad to have some music and a familiar voice keeping me company. Thank you, Sprocket. Tell you what. Here's some caps, and the drinks are on the house." She gave him 10 caps and placed the radio back on the counter before showing him the drinks were paid for with a click of the cash register.
He smiled and hoof bumped, "Nothing beats free drinks."
"Don't get carried away now." she raised her eyebrow at him
"Right."
Footnote:
S.P.E.C.I.A.L
STR: 3
PER: 7 ( +/- )
END: 3
CHR: 5
INT: 7
AGL: 9
LCK: 6
Whats that? We just started! You don't level up yet, but congrats on that radio, you just realized your perks!
Tinker Boy (Ranks: 5): You have a knack for this! You can create light weapons and armor from items you find laying around (Ex. toy cars, tin cans, scrap metal, scrap electronics, wonderglue)
Four Eyes: It seems you have bad eyesight, better put on these glasses. Without glasses you suffer a -2 to perception, with them you receive a +2 to perception
Author's Note
Parts inspired by characters from Kkats original "Fallout Equestria" and many, many new things seen from the E3 presentation of Fallout 4.
