Fallout:Equestria - Burning Hope

Chapter 0: Beginnings
“You can’t fix dead!”

Three months and 19 days earlier, 1 day’s flight east of Manehatten:

*BANG*

A loud boom echoed around the valley as my sniper rifle fired, promising a swift death to the mare at the receiving end of the weapon. I lowered my rifle and flicked the safety back on with my hoof, looking down as I did so. Just as expected, a few hundred meters downhill, my target had dropped dead with a fresh hole in her skull.

My mother’s words came to mind, “All ponies are children of the Goddesses, and should be respected. Never kill, or disrespect another for we are all equal.”. What would she say if she saw me now, killing ponies for a living.

I felt a feeling of guilt strike me. This mare had once had a life, she probably had a family too. Feelings, thoughts, ambitions and dreams. Was I a bad pony for ending her life?

However, these feelings of guilt evaporated quickly. Most of the ponies I had ever killed were scum anyway and deserved death. If they had done nothing wrong, then ponies wouldn’t be paying me to kill then, would they? This was my life, and I couldn’t let something as stupid as guilt stop me from doing my job. After all, this mare was no different from all my previous ‘targets’.

I brought up my slightly battered pip-buck and checked my EFS, making sure there were no hostiles around. Many times I had killed a target only to find there were a few dozen raiders nearby with the same idea, and dealing with raiders was just a waste of ammo.

Pretty sure that I was alone, I slowly stood up and stretched my long legs happily. I must have been sitting on that rock for a few hours waiting for that mare to turn up, and sitting on a hard surface for that long was something I could never get used to.

My large wings spread out and stretched before I flapped them a little and glided down to the body. As I did so, my orange eyes scanned the area, making sure nothing had slipped my EFS. It had happened before, usually when magical creatures or complicated tech were involved, but one thing that I would never be able to spot were fucking stealth bucks. Even though I owned one, I was of the solid belief that pip-bucks were a plague on the wasteland. I could get shot by a dumb pony fresh from the stable who had never held a gun before, just because they were using SATS. Made any contract involving a dumb stable dweller a nightmare. I didn’t even need SATS that often, I could easily shoot stuff without some dumb targetting system. The only reason I kept it was because of the maps and radio.

My eyes fell on the dead mare as I landed beside her, folding my wings closely to my sides as my hooves touched the rough ground below. I examined the mare I had killed with slight curiosity.

She was a grey pegasus mare with a thick and curly red mane. Her wings showed signs of bad grooming, honestly, some pegasi had no idea how to properly care for wings. I looked at her badly cobbled together armor, which had probably been taken from a raider judging by its shit condition. A dashite brand was only just visible on her flank, figured really. Why else would she be on the surface.

The pony who hired me was some stupid ex Enclave officer with an equally stupid name that I couldn’t quite remember. I wasn’t quite sure why he wanted this mare dead, just some ramble about how she got him stuck on the surface. Not that it was any of my business, all I needed to do was to grab some necklace from her and I’d be on my way.

I smiled at the thought of the sweet cash I would be getting for this job. Many ponies told me that life had no price, but I had a price list on my pip-buck. An average wastelander cost 300 caps, and then the price would just go up depending on various factors. My best ever payment was 1500 caps for a Steel Ranger Paladin.

Of course I had never got a better contract than that, and most jobs usually got a little less than 400 caps these days. Honestly, it was like ponies had run out of assholes they wanted dead. I was getting 375 caps for this mare, nothing amazing really.

My eyes drifted to her saddlebag and I seized it in my hoof before yanking it off her back. I popped it open and tipped it upside down, letting the bag’s meagre contents fall to the floor. Unfortunately for me, it seemed this mare hadn’t owned much. Her possessions had consisted of a laser pistol with no battery, a couple of cans of food, some photographs and some strange outfit which I assumed was Enclave uniform. I kept everything but the uniform and the photos. Enclave ponies were despised down here and I had little need for it anyway. The photos were faded and old, nothing useful for me.

My hoof ran down her neck, searching for the proof of her death. It eventually touched a thin chain and I pulled it off her and looked at it. The necklace was made of a metal chain with a small pendant in the shape of a wing on it. I sighed and tucked it into my pocket, happy that the job was done.

Making sure that my sniper rifle was secure on my back, I flapped my wings and rose into the air, dust blowing around me as I did so. For most pegasi, flying was something stupid to do over long distances. It was all too easy for a raider to spot you and blast you out of the sky, but there was no way I was walking all the way back to the rotten apple. Anyway, I was pretty agile when I needed to be, despite the weight of my reinforced armor and weapons.

Below me, the dusty wasteland seemed to go on forever. There were very few notable landmarks to see, just the odd pre-war wreckage and a few rotting corpses that littered the road. Not for the first time, I wondered if any of those rotting skeletons were results of previous contracts, but I didn’t dwell on that thought. My wings kept flapping and I continued on my flight to the city, listening to the joyful music of Sapphire Shores on my pip-buck radio.

Some ponies questioned this line of work, saying that it was immoral. But for me it was a job, a way of life. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.