Fallout: Equestria - The Ranger of Seamane

Chapter 13 -- A Rocky Venture

“Gangs are like hydras; you cut off one head and two more will appear, fighting against one another for the same resources, ignoring that it feeds the same body.”

Bang!

The ground in front of me exploded once again. Reflexively my shield formed around me as gears shifted preparing for a fight over a dialog.

“What do we have here? A lone pony comes to play hero?” snarled who I assumed to be the raider leader, a bulky earth pony stallion with a scowl and an absolute mess of a mane. As he came around the corner I saw that his battle saddles were kitted out with four light machine guns, similar to the ones mounted on Saint Clover.

I always found the term light machine gun humorous, having never encountered a ‘heavy’ machine gun. Regardless, this was the wrong time to ponder terminology as I had four currently pointed at me as well as what I assumed to be rocket launcher tubes. Whoever he was, this bastard was strong.

“I take it you don’t give a fuck about the hydra and its kin coming this way?” I shouted as the stallion looked me over with a bemused expression.

“It just means we need to fight harder and faster!” He shouted, his mortar crews hollering their agreement in the background.

“Fucking moron,” I muttered.

“I heard that!” He taunted.

I flinched. He wasn’t just strong but perceptive as well which was going to make this hard. It helped that I wasn’t feeling particularly persuasive at the moment, not unless you counted murder as a convincing argument.

Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was the large stack of injuries I had accrued. All I knew was I wanted to put the stallion down and be done with him.

“If you won’t help. Then I’ll just have to take your place.” I shouted as I prepared a fire blast. With the loadout he had the best bet I had was to try to cook off his ammo.

“Try me, hornhead.” He mocked and I heard the sudden shriek of a mortar coming down.

I let loose my fire spell and hopped backward once it was away. A moment later I was thrown into the air, quickly using my magic to toss myself further from the blast and shrapnel, strain-induced headaches be damned. The shield I had partially formed In the split second before the blast barely protected me from the worst of the pressure wave, fresh cuts opening on my face and legs though my barding caught most of the debris.

That was too close.

“Five feet to the left!” The leader shouted. “Twenty feet to the fore!”

Through the cloud of dust that had been kicked up, I spotted the bastard grinning as he rolled his shoulders, the loud clack of his machine guns racking fresh shells rang through the air. His glee was visible; he wanted to play and was happy I had survived his first attempt on my life.

You have got to be kidding me! This isn’t a fucking fair fight but somepony forgot their helmet at home so a good shot to the head should kill him. Make it two; he’s a thick stallion so his skull is likely just as thick as his muscles.

“I hope you enjoy dancing in the rain, little mare!” The raider leader laughed as he opened up with his light machine guns. The howl of a trio of mortars sent skyward joined the din.

“MOTHER BUCKING. FUCK. SHIT. NO.” I couldn’t coherently think or swear as I fired blindly at the raider leader, praying something would connect as I used my magic to perform a combination of telekinesis to hold my guns, fire arcane blasts, and shield myself from the rain of shrapnel.

As good as I was at multitasking spells, I wasn't as good as I needed to be. Dozens of new cuts traced along my coat and barding, bullets glancing off them as I made a run for it. I rolled into a doorway and quickly pulled out a speed loader to reload. My heart was in my throat, my head pounding. The wall behind me shuddered as it was hammered with bullets.

Fucking hell, is this what the wasteland is like? What the fuck is this shit. I thought it was just gangs of raiders wanting shit, extorting ponies. What the fuck is this buck?! This is some fucking comic book bullshit.

I took a deep breath. Okay, calm down. Bastard hasn’t taken a hit. I’m not one hundred percent physically but magically I’m doing fine. Just need to get him into a situation where he’s at a disadvantage.

A round punched through the wall and cut my ear making me wince. I rolled to my side and started to crawl with my rifle in my mouth, keeping my horn dark as I repositioned.

“Hornheads like you always think you are so tough until the bullets start flying. Oh how I love killing you arrogant fuckers!” The stallion cackled, the gunfire suddenly dying down.

Then the door frame I had been taking cover in just a minute ago exploded inwards.

“Huh, looks like you moved. What a waste of a rocket though, points for not being like the last hornhead!” He taunted as I heard something hollow and metal fall to the ground. I didn’t dare look as I continued to crawl amongst the rubble.

“Resume fire on the town. I’m going to keep an eye out for our little miss hero.” He ordered. The mortars soon began firing again, their long howl joining the roar of the Hydra and the distant gunfire.

His tactical skill is not what I would expect. Maybe he was descended from a member of the Military? This is dangerous regardless, I need to surprise him. No, he’ll expect that. Damn it, I need explosives and trip wire. I can’t just try to overwhelm him with physical strength. Not immediately at least. Returning fire is suicide. Random fire from unexpected spots won’t cut it. I need to trip him up and get him annoyed. Pocket sand? No, he will just blast my guts out if I stand in front of him and do that. I didn’t even get to see if he had goggles or not.

“Ready or not, here I come!” Taunted the raider leader, enjoying his chance to have some fun killing me as the crunch of his hooves drew closer.

Well, that solves the issue of the giant open space between this building and his perch. Unfortunately, he still held most of the cards. Though he really doesn’t like waiting, I might be able to use that against him.

I quietly skulked about the ruins, keeping an eye out for the raider boss.

“I see you.” He called out. I caught sight of him moments after, seeing that his eyes were glowing. Was it a drug, spell, mutation?

“Fuck you!” I shouted as I unleashed lightning from my horn. The effect was instant as the bolt hit his face and made him scream. His eyes constricted to pinpricks, his body disobeyed him due to the electrical shock, and his machine guns fired indiscriminately. I didn’t dare stick around and darted off instead of trying to get a few greedy hits in. He soon recovered and started swearing at me, a few were even creative.

“I’m going to fucking cut off your damn horn and legs for that. I was just going to kill you, now I’m going to fucking torture you!” He screamed as he thrashed about.

I didn’t have a line of sight on him but I heard the rubble shift before a section of the building we were in was tossed my way. Without thinking, I put my shield up to block it. I gasped as the shield absorbed the impact and I slid back on the tiled floor. It was a huge mistake to have done that. I felt coldness spreading along my stomach as my injuries opened back up from my attempt at bracing against the impact.

“Huh, oh there are ya!” He laughed, firing over my head. “Give up and maybe I won’t kill you after I’m done torturing you!”

Well, a bigger mistake than I thought. He didn’t know I was actually here. Fuck.

I snapped off a shot at him, hitting his chest and making him gasp. At least he isn’t bulletproof, he’s feeling what I’m dishing out.

“I kind of enjoy my body's integrity and autonomy.” I retorted. “So I reject your offer. But please, let’s keep negotiating.”

“Good shot.” He coughed. “But it’s going to take a lot more than that.” He wheezed then, to my horror, began to produce an unholy number of chems. “We’re going to have so much fun together now.” He laughed maniacally before injecting himself with something, moving on to an inhaler, then a healing potion, and then another injection.

I, foolishly, stood there in awe, partially hoping his heart would just explode from taking all of those chems at once. In all honesty, I was just dumbstruck by the display.

“What?” He laughed. “Are you holding hope I’ll put on protection, maybe eat some breath mints first before we get rough?” With those charming words uttered he charged me, moving far faster than he had before.

I gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of me. It quickly became apparent that I had been knocked off my hooves. A strangled yelp escaped my lips, and the sensation of something hard pinning me to the wall filled my mind. Then there was a pop in my back, a painful one as my body tried to deal with the pressure. Then came a crunch, external this time, as the wall cracked and gave way. Thankfully the wall was only sheetrock and rotten wood or I would have been in a lot more trouble. Still, this wasn’t good on my already battered and barely healed body.

He didn’t stop with one wall and we soon hit another. He was going to keep beating me until he ran out of walls or I ran out of things to be broken. I could feel something wrong in my chest as we hit the second wall, a sharp pain in my barrel as my rib cage moved in a way that wasn’t right. Given what had happened so far, it was likely he had broken at least one rib of mine.

Aside from the physical pain, I felt something else. The pull between the grey of hopelessness and the red blindness of endless rage came for me. My mental fortitude was failing. The edges of my vision were turning black. My gaze drifting down I could see the bandages around my lower half heavily soaked in a deep red of my blood.

“How nice of you to have held still. What a silly mare, almost like you wanted me to catch you.” He grinned that sickening grin, keeping me pinned with one massive hoof. “Now for that precious horn of yours.” His other hoof pressed down on the tip of my horn. “Time for it to go.”

Act.

It was a singular thought. I knew where he was going to strike next. Resolve filled me; it was time to violate another cornerstone of magic. Instead of pushing down those emotions filling me I grabbed them and stuffed them into my horn, using them to fuel a fire within me, within my horn. I was going to put every last ounce of magical might left in me to burn his hoof off before he removed my horn.

And so I poured all of my anger, desperation, love, and passion into my horn. Drawing in every scrap of emotion running through me.

The pressure within my horn grew as his hoof pressed down upon it. It felt as if small cracks were forming in the magical bone as his hoof shifted slightly in its angle. Resisting, I pushed more magic into it, tensing up my body to keep me in place. Failure meant being hornless and likely knocked out from the pain if my skull caved in from the followthrough.

Spots filled my vision, twisting into spirals as darkness closed in on the edges of my sight. Conversely, the room itself was getting brighter, and from the shadows cast it seemed to be coming from my horn, the normally green light flaring into a brilliant white as pain flowed back into me. Painful heat spilled from my horn as the magic waited for direction. Too much longer and I’d just remove my own head with the ticking time bomb of magical energy.

But I wouldn’t and I couldn’t wait any longer if I wanted to keep my horn, let alone my life. Without the certainty of ending this bastard’s life, I mentally braced myself for whatever magical backlash was about to happen from the concentrated magic.

And then I let go.

The room became blindingly bright for a second, waves of heat crashing over us. When the light faded my vision was a mess of multicolored shapes and static. My stomach twisted in knots and my brain felt like his hoof had punched through my skull anyway.

We were both screaming in pain when my senses returned. Beyond my clouded vision, I could see that his left foreleg was gone, the left side of his face was black from burnt fur, and at the point where his shoulder met his neck, a furrow was burnt into his flesh. From what remained of his left foreleg fat ran like wax as bone burnt like a wick. He had a stub of a leg now, just a bit of bone past his shoulder. Even if he lived past today he was not going to be the same stallion.

I decided then and there to make certain he didn’t live another hour. Preferably not another minute.

Where the ray had hit the ceiling a long channel was cut into the concrete, glowing orange to a hot white where it terminated, liquid dripped and sizzled as the crater cooled. As I lay against the wall breathing the best I could with the broken rib I took in the damage.

For my fortune, the stallion was lost in his injury and hadn’t noticed the bit for his battlesaddle had fallen from his mouth, the controls for the left half of his machine gun array severed by the magical ray. Unless he sat down, a horrible mistake, he wouldn’t be able to get the bit back in his mouth. For the moment his cannons were silenced.

Gently touching my horn it was warm, wet, and stung to the touch. The fluid that touched my horn was more viscous than blood. Removing my hoof from my horn there were strands connecting to the hoof from my horn of an orange glowing fluid as it was cooling and dissipating into motes of light. This was as clear a sign as any that I had pushed my horn too hard, especially given the surface of my horn now felt smooth. There was a new curve to the sharp point of it too, likely from being pressed on while full of potent magic. Frankly, I didn’t know bone could curve like that when heated. I thought it just burned and broke.

“You-!” He started but I wasn’t giving him a chance to talk.

Swiftly I got to my hooves and swung around kicking him in the chest and hitting his new injuries. The buck did its job as he gasped for air and I felt the crunch of bone breaking. I winced feeling the pain lance through my body, praying I killed him before bleeding out.

As soon as my rear hooves landed I bounded and made distance between us, leaving the dripping glass of the ceiling as a line between us. The scorched air stung against my horn and lungs, but I was relieved that I could still feel anything, let alone my blown-out horn. Worry ate at the back of my mind about my ability to cast given my horn’s condition, more so given it was still slightly glowing from heat.

Giving into curiosity, I tested my horn. Instead of a spell, my magic just failed and the same viscous fluid rolled down my horn and between my eyes, glowing bright enough that they were expressed as pure white with rainbow after images.

Well so much for my magic.

“Time to finish this the old-fashioned way.” I spat.

Like a spring bounded forward and spun on my forelegs letting my hind legs spin and at the last moment I gave a proper applebuck to his throat. He choked and sputtered as he struggled, gasping for air as his one good hoof went to it, the other stump wiggled uselessly tossing ash from the remains of it. He fell over and kicked as he gasped for air.

Good.

My teeth gripped tightly onto a knife handle and pulled it out of the sheath on my chest. Now armed, I stalked towards the downed stallion only to get kicked away when I got too close. This time I landed painfully on my already sore back as the knife spun away across the ruined tile floor.

We both groaned as we lay on that cold hard floor. I tried my magic again in desperation and got nothing, not even a rebounding of my spell. For a moment I closed my eyes to ground myself before I rolled onto my side and pulled out a few chems from my saddlebags with a hoof. One hoof slid to my prior injuries to apply pressure as I searched for what I needed.

If you can’t beat them, join them.

Stampede, Rage, Buck, Dash. My heart went from wanting to explode to feeling like it took up my entire body. I got to my hooves and drew another knife and ignored my blood dripping onto the floor from my bloody stomach.

It has to be this way, doesn’t it?

With a scream, I broke into a canter and jumped at the last second twisting myself in the air intending to slam my hooves into the stallion’s ribs. Instead, I found myself grabbed by his teeth and spun using my own momentum, flung back first into another wall. The dust from my impact made me cough as I fought to get back onto my hooves. The stallion struggled to do the same on his three hooves, eyeing the discarded knife between us.

“Alright, tell me. What’s your name?” He asked and I could hear the pain in his voice as he leaned against a wall trying to get the bridle triggers to his mouth. “I want to know the name of who’s done so well against me. To remember, or take to my grave.”

“Moonlight Grimoire, from Seamane,” I answered, finally getting to my hooves and drawing another knife. I only had five more before I had to start picking them up.

“Bit far from home aren’t you?” He laughed wetly. “Well Moonlight, consider it a badge of honor that you got me this beat up. Not even the Steel Rangers could stomp me but then again they didn’t really try. Didn’t have anything they wanted, see.”

He gave a soft smile. “They call me Rocky Venture because any Venture against me shall be Rocky,” Venture said before swinging his body to slam against the nearest wall.

I didn’t give a shit how stupid his name was. All I desired was his death; that red-hot desire to rip his throat out, to spill his blood, to spring into action like a gryphon. Old wiring awoken.

Motivation flooded me but instead of launching into action, I stood there. Even as my mind screamed to pounce the bastard and drive home my knife into his throat, to use my talons to rip him apart. Instead, I just stared him down as my body locked up.

A moment too late I saw Venture had used his swing to get the bit back in his mouth. I scurried out of the way as gunfire started back up again, bullets biting into me and ruining what was left of my armor.

While half of him was useless, he could still act as a living turret until I was dead. Thankfully I managed to find cover among a pile of rubble and furniture just out of his cone of fire.

As I lay behind a desk, I could feel blood starting to pool under me, a very bad sign if my medical training was in any way accurate. I half lay there, trying to stay calm as I cradled my stomach out of fear the stitches there would give way.

Mentally I hissed at myself for failing to disarm the stallion’s dangerous arsenal when I had the chance. He had chosen to play with me, to toy with me in hoof-to-hoof combat. I was nothing but a plaything to him, he could have fired at any time and put an end to me.

Now though it seemed losing a foreleg had sobered Venture up, which was fine since the pain he gave me was doing the same. There was only one thing left in my mind: ending the draft horse that stood between me and saving Four Corners. The tink of metal on tile caught my attention and I blearily saw the knife I had been holding in my muzzle on the floor.

I had collapsed and blacked out for half a second I realized. My position could not be sustained and I was on my last legs.

Fuck, I can’t let it end like this! Come on, get up damn it. Move. Drink a health potion. DO SOMETHING.

My mental commands took root as I struggled desperately to move. Gasping from the pain, I managed to get a healing potion to my lips, though unfortunately, only half the liquid made it inside my stomach. Turns out that inhaling potions is rather ineffective given you start coughing it up.

Regardless half a potion was more than none and it would be enough for now. It had to be. Less jittery now that the healing magic was flowing through me, I quickly pulled out bandages and stuffed the fresh wounds with sphagnum moss. The stinging as I applied the bandages was a small price to pay for survival and keeping my insides where they belonged.

“You’re probably just bleeding out back there, aren’t you? Be a good mare and just fucking die already. I’m done playing games with you.” Venture yelled as I heard something metal hit the ground near me.

It took only a fraction of a second to spot the distinctive metallic apple, because of course everything the Ministry of Technology did involved apples somehow. Years of experience told me what it was: a proper grenade, unlike its cobbled-together wastelander variety. Instinct kicked in and I tried to grasp the grenade with my magic only to find myself grasping for the stars that filled my vision as the spell rebounded inside my skull.

My options were swiftly running out, fleeing had been off the table for some time. Given my physical condition, nothing clever would work so it was time to throw a fastball. Using the one good hoof that wasn’t holding moss to my stomach, I scooped up the grenade and hefted it back toward Venture’s voice.

“Right back at you, you fucking monster!” I cried out.

For a moment I let go of my stomach to support myself as I let the grenade fly. Once it left my hoof I let myself collapse onto the floor, allowing the ancient tile to hold my body together.

A moment later the grenade detonated, I doubted it had flown far enough to detonate on Venture but it would at least leave him in worse condition than myself. The sound wave was as sudden as my loss of hearing and soon all I could sense was the scent of explosives and blood. I could feel new warm wetness leaking from my ears making me grimace. Given how today was going I’d soon be a rust colored unicorn.

Ringing crushed all other external noise, the loudest sound that of my thundering heart. Bracing myself, I closed my eyes and shakily got to my hooves. It was time to finish this.

No, not yet. Not. Yet. Keep going damn you.

When I opened my eyes it was to see Venture was glaring at me, a small crater bridging the small gap between us. As one, we roared from the bottom of our lungs, our war cries filling the ruin as we stared each other down, sizing our injuries and working up the energy to make our next move. Our last move.

Slowly I drew another knife with my muzzle, holding the hilt firmly between my teeth as I panted and bared my teeth at Venture.

His eyes were focused on me, his ears likely bleeding just like mine from burst eardrums, and his brown hide was covered in lines of red from where he had been cut by shrapnel. His bridle and bit lay severed on the floor. Instead, he had drawn his own knife into his muzzle.

I should have agility in this fight even though he would have strength, at least I hoped so. I had no idea how well he could maneuver with a half-cooked offleg.

Without an exchange of words, I climbed over the counter and stalked towards him, sizing him up for where to strike. Venture for his part stood his ground, waiting for me to strike. He was no fool, keeping himself on a defensive footing. Both of us hurt bleeding animals looking for a way to get the kill on the other for their pack.

Damn.

We stared at each other as we stood lengths apart. I noticed a revolver on his chest, he noticed the pistol on mine. I could see the gears in his head turning, how he could easily land a shot on me if he switched to his sidearm. I knew because I was thinking the same thing.

What a gambit.

A minute passed, and the constant thumping of mortar fire outside continued unabated. We continued to bleed, staining his coat, staining my bandages. I weighed my chances; whether a nine-millimeter round would be enough, whether I could even get a good shot in the first place. He had more blood than me and wasn't bleeding out as I was. If I waited I’d pass out first from blood loss.

Unfortunately, I had to be the aggressor.

A tile cracked under my hoof and I sprung into action.

Loosening my grip on the knife in my mouth, I swung my head first one way then snapped it back in the opposite direction, launching the knife flying at Venture. The attack wasn’t meant to harm, I doubted it could even break the skin with how weak I was. No matter the case, the blade flew true and hit Venture on the cheek, cutting his exposed coat.

I didn’t stop to even check if the attack had landed. The moment the knife flew free, my muzzle dipped down, and undid the button holding my pistol in its holster. With a fluid motion, I drew the gun and gripped it fiercely in my teeth, the mechanical safety built into the gun releasing with the smallest click.

I closed my left eye as I felt liquid roll down my forehead onto it, sighting down the pistol’s barrel, and aimed for the center of mass; for Venture’s large, bloody chest. Adrenaline hit hard as I pushed the trigger down with my tongue. Time slowed to a crawl as the trigger clicked to set off the first round.

Remember what Dad taught us. Exhale, pull the trigger and count the remaining rounds.

Eleven. The first shot went wide and hit the shelf Venture had been leaning against. The recoil jarred me a bit as I aimed again.

Ten. This time in my EFS a reticule showed up. The round landed where I wanted it to, slamming into his nose making it blossom into a flower of gore.

Nine. The third shot went low and failed to do more than leave a gash on Venture’s throat, his hide was too thick.

Eight. The fourth shot removed his left eye in another blossom of gore.

Seven. His mouth was opened in a wet gurgle. The round went down his throat and out the back of his neck.

Six. The second round into his mouth, teeth shattered.

Five. Round went through his ear, superficial damage.

Four. Round bounced off his skull from the shallow angle of impact and ricocheted into the ceiling. Useless.

Three. Round impacted his bandolier and destroyed the trigger of his revolver.

Two. Round impacted his shoulder with a shallow impact. Stayed inside, likely lodged in his shoulder joint.

One. Round went into his chest, with no exit.

Zero. Round missed and hit the wall behind him. My vision swayed to the side.

Click. Click. Click. Click

The empty gun fell from my muzzle, clattering to the floor as I leaned back against a ruined display case. My hind legs had gone out from under me at some point, my forelegs were weak and shaking.

Venture fell over, dead or in shock it was hard to tell. As if in disbelief, my gaze first turned to my fallen machine of death as it lay there, lightly smoking and demanding more ammo to be fed to it before I slowly gazed back up at where Venture lay.

Blood was pooling around him. He had passed on and the world around us suddenly fell silent.

I felt numb.

There isn’t time to reflect on this. What is done is done. We need those mortars, now.

I pushed myself to collect my gun, holstering it before moving to loot Rocky Venture’s body.

How do I make them obey me? Sever his head and hold it up so they see I am the strongest?

The idea of severing someone’s head was enough to make me feel ill. I quickly pushed the notion aside and tried my best to ignore the reflexive dry heaving. It was also at this point that I felt all the adrenaline leave my system, leaving me hyperventilating and terrified.

The stallion was too heavy to drag outside but proof of death would be required. While deliberating what to do, I stripped the stallion of his gear and greedily drank down one of the three healing potions he had on him. Given his state of being was now past tense there wasn’t any associated guilt from taking his stuff.

I felt the healing magic work its way through my system, helping mend my wounds, return strength to my limbs, and giving me a moment of clarity to steel myself for what I had to do.

It only took a few minutes to get his bulky battle saddle tightened around me and the trigger bridle working again. I wanted a backup plan in case any of his crew wanted to take revenge for my slaying of Venture. Four automatic rifles spitting 5.56mm rounds was a good backup plan. The only thing left to do was figure out how exactly to break the news that I had slaughtered the raider king.

Level up! Welcome to level five! That was sure fast but then again you were busy doing stuff that you learned from! This time you’re Extra Special for being such a tough little filly so enjoy your endurance going up by one. Maybe you should have taken that point in luck instead? Then again, would just one point fix your dismal luck?