Fallout Equestria: Shard, A Zebra's Tale

Prologue.

The jungle was quiet. The once vibrant and beautiful land was now lifeless, void of any of its old, natural charms. Once bright green trees now hung down towards the floor, blackened and charred from where the megaspells had torn through them. The air - now a sickly green – hung heavy in the canopy, slowly seeping down to the jungle floor. A few freakish plants stood tall amongst the rest of the withered flora, managing to adapt and enhance themselves among their new environment. These plants had shot up and spread out, engulfing much of what remained of the land around them, becoming known simply as Anathema. Animals too were now a rarity, with very few species managing to survive the intense explosions and subsequent radiation that had bombarded the land those 50 years ago.

The sound of chatter could be heard through the thick overgrowth. The jungle canopy itself was so thick with those radioactive plants that it would be impossible for any Pegasus flying above to see exactly where the voices were coming from. Though any Pegasus who had ventured so far from Equestria would surely rue the day they chose to travel this deep into Zebra territory.

Among the ponies of Equestria, little was known of the outcome of the Zebra Empire. Many considered exploration of their fate pointless. They had been wiped off the face of the world, bombarded by countless megaspell strikes. What could possibly survive that? And, truthfully, who would want to stumble across the hideous abominations that had done? As far as the ponies of Equestria were concerned, the few survivors of the Zebra Empire had reverted back into mere crippled tribes, with no strength left within them. And for those ponies, this was all they needed. Assurance that they would never return.

Lliko looked down upon his settlement. He was a rather stout and elderly zebra, his coat beginning to turn from its proud black and white into a rather more embarrassing grey. Only the red compass that was his cutie mark remained bright and youthful. With age he had taken to staying sat in his large, rather grandiose throne overlooking his camp. A large and intricate array of huts and rudimentary shelters were home to about 80 zebra stallions, mares and foals. They had constructed their homes themselves using wood and scrap scavenged from nearby factories that had been long abandoned, overtaken by the Anathema. The Anathema itself had once been a tiny, insignificant woodland on the outskirts of a pre-war zebra town known as Quagga. Now though, it had spread, burying any remnants of the town in its mighty roots. Lliko’s Camp was the only settlement for miles around that had not been destroyed, thanks to a force-field talisman that had been deployed within the Hearth.

The Hearth was Lliko’s pride and joy. It was why he had settled here, risked so many lives to beat back the Anathema, and destroyed so many innocent tribals that stood between him and his prize. The Hearth was - as far as Lliko knew - the only functional pre-war Zebra Munitions factory remaining in the entirety of the Kingdom that had not been destroyed by a tactical strike. A huge grey slab against its woodland backing, the crumbling Hearth dominated Lliko’s Camp. And it was all his. He was free to produce as many firearms and tools as he wished, limited only by the number of able-bodied zebras he had available to operate the temperamental machinery. With such power at his hooves, Lliko would surely be able to rally the other zebra tribes beneath his own proud banner, and march an assault on Equestria to finish the job his ancestors had failed before him. Unfortunately, Lliko knew his plan would falter with time. The force-field talisman was old and would soon need replacing, and the materials required to create another such talisman were dwindling. He knew he had no choice but to send out more scout parties.

He leant forward in his chair and called out to his subjects. They quickly fell in line beneath him, staring upwards. “My friends,” he cried, “as you are all so well aware the Hearth is a needy beast. We are currently producing firearms and equipment at a much slower rate, in an effort to maintain our ever-shrinking number of resources. Word from the other tribes has confirmed our fears. All the Zebran mines have been depleted; and so we must expand. Thus it is with great difficulty I must select a hoof-full of you to lead a scouting mission into Equestria, and pony-occupied territory.” Lliko paused, watching the eyes of his followers darting left and right. “Do not be afraid! Equestria is as weak a realm as us, I am sure! We shot first, and we are still on the assault!” He pulled himself up from his chair, raising a hoof to the sky. “We may have lost our footing, but we will stand strong again! Zebrakind will reach its rightful place as rulers of this land! We will complete the task Caesar failed all those moons ago! We will live again, and ponykind will suffer our swift and just punishment!” A cheer rose from the crowd as they thrust their hooves and rifles to the sky. Lliko’s speech had been a success.

“Now,” he turned to a small mare who approached his side, “choose twelve names at random from the terminal. These brave soldiers will be our ambassadors.” The mare quickly trotted down a wooden stairwell around the factory’s edge, before disappearing inside through two rusted double doors. They swung shut behind her. Shortly she returned with a list of twelve names, and hurriedly handed it to Lliko. He cleared his throat and read out the list. “The rest of you may return to your stations. As for our brave twelve, make your goodbyes. This may be the last time you see your friends and family for a long time. Then report into the Hearth for further briefing and arming. I shall see you there.” With that, he stepped back from view, and slowly trotted inside.

The interior of the Hearth was dark and cold. Usually it was much more an array of colours and sounds. But not now. Now it was running on empty. Huge vats hung limply from the ceiling, and motionless conveyor belts coiled around the floor like dead serpents. Very few machines were still working to full capacity, notably several bullet presses and a medical station. There was still an abundance of metals and medicinal herbs, but very few of the important talismans and gems. Of course, as far as the other zebras were concerned, there was still ample supply. Lliko’s followers never saw the material reserves, so they had no idea how bad the situation truly was. Lliko was anxious not to give details of the mission’s urgency to the general populace, for fear of creating a panic. The doors swung open, and light poured onto the factory floor. Twelve zebras marched into the hall, nervously awaiting instruction. They stopped and fell in line before Lliko, saluting.

“At ease friends. What I tell you is not to leave this room. Our material reserves are running low. Primarily, our talismans and gems. If we do not stock up on these soon, the force-field talisman will die, and the Anathema will engulf the Hearth. And if that happens, we lose all chances of winning this war. So you twelve will be split into three scouting squads, and will settle in different areas of Equestria.” He separated the zebras into three groups. He pointed to the first group. “You are Glass. You will be posted on the outskirts of Froggy Bottom Bogg.” He pointed it out on an old-world map mounted on the wall, slowly peeling away and decaying. He motioned towards the second group. “You are Beam. You will be posted close to the city of Vanhoover.” Again he pointed it out on the map. “And you are Shard. You will be posted here, to Baltimare. You all have three simple objectives. ONE! Locate a renewable source of gems. TWO! Locate an influential area from where we can establish a foothold in Equestria. THREE! Collect information on our enemies. Contact home on your radios when you make progress, and find us a method to win this war!  Good luck, my friends, you’re going into Equestria. The Wolf’s Den.”