The fire crackles low. A soft glow forms from the dying embers in the fire pit. High above, the night sky is littered with multi-colored stars and grand constellations. A gentle breeze works through the Fall air, carrying a slightly sweet scent from the nearby apple orchards along the ridge.
Next to me, a beautiful batmare sleeps, her face peaceful and full of youth. When we had first met, her sleep was punctured by night terrors and nightmares, making her look haggard and ready to snap at any moment. But now, those nights are long behind us. Opposite of me, a unicorn Ghoul sits, his translucent eyes staring up at the stars. Some time ago, this very ghoul tried to betray me, offering me up to a group of psychopaths who wanted to do unspeakable atrocities to everyone and everything.
From our vantage point up here on the cliffs, we can look down and see the scarred landscape of Zhutrotsky's Valley. On the western end, countless pillboxes, artillery camps, machine guns positions and endless trench networks cover the landscape. On the eastern end rests a boneyard. Two-hundred years ago, this boneyard was once an entire Zebra Legion, over three-thousand strong. It was to be their final assault against the troops of Zhutrotsky's 3rd Army. Had the bombs not fallen, the Zebras might have been able to punch through the defensive lines and right into Stalliongrad.
Now, only their armor and skeletons mark where they had fallen, a testament to what could have been a swift victory for our foes.
The ghoul shifts, looking down from the stars to me, then to the landscape around us.
"Hard to believe how quickly life has taken hold here." He says. His ragged voice carries an old accent from the Trottingham area, a region lost to time and history. "How long has it been? Fifteen years?" he continues.
"Give or take a few years." I reply. "Seems like Apple Seed has been taking good care of this place." I say, gesturing to the nearby orchards.
"With a name like Apple Seed, I would hope so." says the ghoul with a chuckle. "Damn...fifteen long years..." he trails off. "Seems like it was only yesterday when we first met." he says, his gaze going past me as memories started playing in his mind.
"Reaver, remember what Doc Stretcher said about remembering things?" I warn. Reaver blinks and shakes his head a bit.
"Right, sorry..." he says sheepishly. At that moment, the batmare stirs and huffs.
"How long are you two going to chatter about the past?" she asks, propping herself up to glare at us. I lean over and place a kiss on her forehead.
"Sorry Ebony, didn't mean to wake you up." I say, giving a little smile. Ebony cranes her head up and our lips briefly meet. She pulls away, giving a small yawn.
"You better get some sleep, Timeless." she says, curling up closer to me. "We have a long hike tomorrow."
I look to Reaver, who gives a nod of agreement. "Go on, I'll keep watch." he says, standing up. As he does, his joints all give cracks and pops as he stretches out. The ghoul then moves over to a weapon case, opens it with a flare of his horn, and withdraws a drum barreled machine gun. Holding it in a grey field of magic, Reaver checks the drum magazine, then the firing chamber. Seeing all was clear, he loads the magazine back in and begins to walk off to walk the perimeter. I watch the ghoul disappear into the dark. Once I lost sight of him, I shift myself down to lay next to Ebony. Without hesitation, the batmare buries her face into my chest, giving a happy sigh.
Laying there, my mind starts to wander as I gaze at the stars. Memories of the past start to surface in my minds' eye. Familiar faces no longer with us. Voices that carried both anger and merriment. Perilous situations and near death experiences. The sights and sounds of a supposedly dead city.
"You know, all that would make for a great story." I mutter to myself.
"What would, dear?" asks Ebony.
"The adventure we all went through. Everything about it has the traits of a thrilling story. I bet everyone would love to read it." I say, a small smile coming to my lips. Ebony moves her head and looks up at me through half-lidded eyes.
"I'll help you out." she says with a small smile. "Someone has to make the story believable, after all." she jokes with a giggle. I huff a bit and grin, knowing she meant well. In truth, I do have a slight tendency to over-exaggerate things, throwing in random details to fluff up a story.
"Then it's settled. I know there's a pencil and some paper in one of the travel packs. I should probably get started on writing before I forget to." I say, starting to shift myself so that I can get up. Ebony however, moves herself on top of me to keep me in place. She gives a deadpanned expression as she stares at me.
"No. You are getting some sleep. You are going to lay there and be my pillow too." she says firmly. I huff again, but rest my head down and stare back at the stars.
"Fine. I guess it can wait until the morning." I mumble. Ebony nods her head and rests it on my chest again, giving a little purr before slipping off to sleep. Soon enough, sleep catches up with me too, floating me away into its comforting embrace.
Chapter One - Reaver's Last Day
Two-hundred and fifteen years ago...
I watch as the armored column of tanks and armored cars roll along the muddy road, their treads and tires digging deeper and deeper into the churned earth. Each of the vehicles carry infantry on their backs, so that the troops didn't have to slog through the mud. Every one of the soldiers is wrapped in thick layers of thermal jackets and wrappings, with only their faces exposed to the cold, poking out from under thick fur hats the locals call ushankas. Their expressions are all the same; Worn down, exhausted, tired, and cold. In the distance, smoke rises into the gray skies, while aircraft of various natures soar overhead towards the billowing smoke.
"Sergeant Reaver!" calls a pony. I blink and look towards the caller. Private Mallet waves for my attention before trotting over to me. "Sir, the briefing is happening soon. You should get over to the Lieutenant's tent." he says. I nod and take the lead, crossing the road while another armored column approaches. Mallet falls in beside me as we enter the infantry camp. All around us, soldiers chatter and huddle around barrel fires, warming their hooves while talking among themselves. Few stand before small mirrors, shaving their faces and heads, while others clean and maintain their weapons. Passing by the packed mess tent, the smell of burnt oats assaults my sense of smell.
Thankfully, I've smelled worse things than burnt oats.
Soon enough, we enter the space where all the officers had set up their tents. Approaching one of the larger tents, Mallet and I enter. A couple of Privates on their way out of the tent step aside and give me a salute as I pass. I return the gesture and approach the table situated in the middle of the tent. On the opposite side, Lieutenant Shika pours over maps and intelligence reports gathered from the front. Around him, other soldiers stand, giving glances at my arrival. Snapping a salute to the Lieutenant, Shika looks up and smiles before giving a lazy salute.
"Thank you for finally joining us Sergeant Reaver." he starts. Looking to the other soldiers, he moves his gaze back to the map. "Gentlecolts," he starts, pointing a hoof to a circled area. "Right here is the Nineteenth Regal Regiment of the Kaiser's Storm Guard. They're been holding the area of Novoro for quite sometime now, and have been proving to be quite the tough nut to crack. Our air forces have been struggling to get past not only the anti-air batteries located here, here, and here," he continues, gesturing to smaller circles on the map. "But our artillery can't get close enough to barrage the area due to the defensive trench that the zebras has dug here," he adds, gesturing to a series of red lines that half encircle the town of Novoro on the east side. "The moment their scouts at the forward line see our batteries setting up, the dragons are called in from an area two miles west of Novoro." Shika says. He looks up and catches our collective gazes.
"This is where the you boys come in." he says. "The 395th is going to perform a night drop behind their lines." he adds. Myself and the others all give a groan. Night drops were tricky operations, and they required top-notch communication, cooperation, and coordination. If one group fails in their objective, it causes a chain reaction of foul ups throughout the regiment.
Thankfully, the 395th was the best in the business.
"Your objectives, should you choose to accept them, are to drop in behind their lines, sabotage their telegraph network, and eliminate all forces within the trenches. You have a time window on this one. All objectives are to be completed by dawn. We are working with the boys on loan from the Cloudsdale weather factory. They will be making a fog cover for our artillery batteries to take position. When dawn comes, the first salvos will be fired. You are to be in this final trench to assault Novoro after the initial bombardment. Hopefully, those striped swines will be too shaken up to mount any kind of defense. You drop at oh-one-thirty hours, so get some rest while you can. Dismissed." Shika finishes, giving a salute. We all return the gesture. As the others all begin to shuffle their way out of the tent, Shika gestures for me to stay back. Once we were alone, I raise an eyebrow.
"Yes sir?" I ask.
"I have a special objective for you, Sergeant." he starts. "I need you to gather any and all intel you can find on a project the Zebras have been working on. Rumors have been circling about from the front line units that the Zebras have been deploying rather... unorthodox tactics. Casualty reports have stated that troops have been suffering from," he stops, picking up a report to read from. "Savage, almost animal like attacks conducted by unknown Zebra combatants." he says, putting the report down. "We're assuming that the Zebras are using a new type of combat drug, but we need to be sure of it. Gather what you can and bring it back to me, understood?" he asks.
"Sir, yes sir." I reply, giving a firm nod. Shika salutes, I return the gesture, and I leave his tent without another word.
Hours later, 23:45...
The moon hangs high, peaking through the gaps in the clouds above. Myself and the rest of the 395th mill about the edge of a dirt runway, using flashlights to check our gear and ready ourselves for the jump. For the past two hours, we have been waiting for an aircraft to arrive, one that we can board and jump from. However, due to some combat flaring up to the south, our aircraft has been delayed by an hour and a half, having to take an alternate route through friendlier skies.
Sitting there on the run way, me and four other paratroopers sit in a circle, checking our packs and smoking on cheap cigarettes. A letter sits before me, half written and resting on my helmet. My horn glows with a gray glow, hovering a flashlight to illuminate the paper while a stubby pencil floats over the paper.
"Who are you writing to, Sergeant?" asks one of the troopers, a Private Caliber.
"My wife." I say simply. The others give a collective "Ooooo!". Caliber leans over.
"What's it say?" he asks, trying to pry into my business. I push him away with a hoof and chuckle.
"Family matters. My son got straight A's on his latest report card." I say, putting a slight tone of bragging into it. One of the troops gives an impressed whistle, while another gives a simple "Damn! Nice work!"
"Got one of them brainiac kids, don'tcha?" asks Caliber. "Gets it from you, huh?" I chuckle and shake my head.
"No, no, he gets it from Cherry. If I were smarter, I wouldn't be a grunt. I'd be back in Stalliongrad working a desk job for some General." I say, laughing. The others join me in the laughter, giving nods of agreement.
"Well, it's a good thing you're not some desk pounder then!" says one of the troops.
"Yeah, you're a ground pounder! And a damn good one at that!" says Caliber, patting my back. At that moment, the a low droning echoes through the air. Immediately, a Captain stands and starts barking orders.
"There's our ride! Everypony on your hooves! Stick with your squads! Make sure the safeties on your weapons are engaged! Stay in a single file line!" he barks. Looking down the runway, I can see the landing lights of our aircraft approaching. Judging by the rumble, it looks like we were given a four-engined aircraft for this mission. Soon enough, we were all lined up along the side of the runway, watching the aircraft taxi into position.
"Oh, fuck me! They gave us a junker!" yells a Corporal down the line. Indeed they had given us a junker. The aircraft was known as a TB-3M-17-32, an older model of bomber used roughly ten years ago. Nowadays, they were used for reconnaissance and light cargo delivery. Once the lumbering beast came to a halt, a door on the left flank of the aircraft lowered down. From within, a pegasus poked out, rolling his hoof for us to come on board.
We all looked at each other with uncertainty. At that moment, another TB-3M flew over head, followed by a third and a fourth. The three aircraft fell into a holding pattern, circling the airfield and waiting for their chance to land and pick up the paratroopers.
The Captain who had barked at us minutes ago was the first to approach the idling aircraft, followed quickly by the rest of the line. One by one, the paratroopers pulled themselves through the doorway and shuffled into the belly. Soon enough, I pulled myself in, entering the dark beast. As I passed by the pegasus, he poked back out and halted the line, saying that the aircraft was at capacity. Looking through a small window, I watched as the others shuffled back towards the edge of the runway. The pegasus reached down and pulled the side door up, slamming it shut and locking it. Shuffling past us, he climbed a small ladder at the front of the aircraft and closed a hatch. Within moments, the engines outside roared to life and we were rolling down the runway. The bomber bounced and jostled as it rumbled down the uneven surface, rattling us to the bone as it picked up speed. Soon though, the sensation of flight overtook us, and we were in the air.
One hour later...
We flew in total silence and darkness. In our time, having conducted at least fifteen drops throughout our tour, we've developed a kind of pre-drop habit. In this case, our habit was to be totally silent. It allows us to reign in our focus on the mission at hoof. For the officers, including myself, it gave us time to review the mission notes and form strategies on the way to the drop zone.
The darkness was suddenly punctured by a red light mounted in the ceiling of the wooden and fabric aircraft. We all stood, and the hatch the pilot had closed on take-off opened once again. Captain Mahogany climbed the ladder, prompting us to follow his lead.
The ladder led up into an open cockpit, from which the pilot and co-pilot controlled the lumbering bomber. Behind them, a small space was available to pass through, followed by a set of twin turrets that sat on the left and right of the aircraft. Seeing us, the co-pilot reaches over and pushes open a small panel behind him. Captain Mahogany holds onto a small railing built into the low cockpit walling, climbs over the open panel, and onto the bombers' wing. Within minutes, roughly twenty of us are holding onto dear life on the wing of the aircraft. A twin-light fixture sits on the outside of the bomber, near the side door we had entered before take-off. Captain Mahogany watches the blank lights, waiting for the signal to drop. After what seemed like hours of waiting, the light closer to him turns white.
We all huddle down, readying ourselves to jump.
Moments later, the white light turns off and its twin turns green. Mahogany springs forward, launching himself off the wing of the aircraft, plummeting into the darkness below. The soldier behind him follows suit. A third jumps, followed by a fourth. Without thinking, I jump into the inky abyss below. Air rushes past me, nearly deafening me as I plummet. I look up, spotting other paratroopers making their jumps from their respective aircraft. After a couple minutes, white canopies begin to fill the night sky. One by one, the soldiers meet the ground, quickly packing away their parachutes. I touch the ground and throw myself into a roll to break the momentum. Righting myself up, I flash my telekinesis and pack away the parachute. I make a scan of my surroundings. Nothing but bushes, shrubbery, and a few scattered trees. In the distance, I can see the once sleepy port town of Novoro. No lights are on in the town, making the buildings almost blend into the night time landscape.
On this side of the town, nothing but open farm land sits. The land is slightly battered, containing a few craters strewn about here and there. Nearby, a few heavy diggers and bulldozers sit, a sign that the Zebras intend to dig trenches on this side as well.
A twig snaps.
I spin towards the sound, my rifle level with a nearby bush.
"Iron." I call, waiting for the answer phrase.
"Steel." responds a voice. From behind the bush, Captain Mahogany emerges. He kneels down besides me and looks towards the town. After a few minutes, we are joined by the other soldiers who made the jump. Mahogany takes a headcount of those with us. Thirty troops in total, making us combat effective. Mahogany starts giving orders and tasks to the squad leaders, sending them off to ready themselves for the assault. Above us, the clouds part, allowing pale blue moonlight to rain down onto the land. An eerie glow highlights everything, making the sharp edges of the buildings stand out in harsh contrast to the land.
"On my mark." Mahogany says, pulling out a whistle from within his coat, placing the tarnished silver object between his lips. The squad leaders give clicks and whistles, signalling that they were in position. With a low tweet of his whistle, the thirty soldiers in his command emerge from their cover, moving as a three-pronged formation across the open ground. Tension gripped my heart; At any moment, we could be cut down out here. This was a risky move, leaving us with no cover should an enemy machine gun nest spot us. The buildings ahead of me seem to stretch themselves away, my mind making it look like the distance that needed to be covered was greater than initially thought.
We reach the first cluster of buildings undetected. Mahogany signals for us to group up. The ten of us press out backs to the building, keeping a tight formation. He peaks around the corner, eyeing the adjacent street.
"Empty." he whispers. I can hear confusion rising in his tone. With a roll of his hoof, we follow Mahogany's lead as we round the corner of the building, trotting down the street in a staggered line. Our rifles sweep the area as we move. A few break off and peak into the buildings around us, seeing nothing within their dark confines. After a while, we make it to the town square. Second and Third squad emerge from their entry points and join us.
Confusion has taken a hold of the officers.
"Captain, this place is a ghost town." says a the Sergeant for Second Squad.
"Has anypony found anything of interest in their sweeps?" Mahogany asks, looking to the other troops. They all shake their heads. Mahogany points to a group of soldiers. "You three, scout out the other side of the town where they are entrenched. If we're lucky, then those striped bastards are all grouped up in their trenches. Keep low and stay quiet." he says. The three soldiers give small nods and quick salutes before trotting off. Mahogany signals for everyone else to group up. "We're moving towards the train station." he says.
Few hours later...
Dawn has risen. The atmosphere is charged. A feeling of unease has rested in my stomach. It started when the scouts returned two hours after being dispatched. They said the trenches sat empty. With further investigation, they discovered that the zebras left nothing behind to indicate when they had left. No paperwork, no important transcriptions, not even a speck of food in their mess area. This gave Mahogany all the more reason to be paranoid. After setting up a radio in the train station, Mahogany reported in to Lieutenant Shika, telling him of our findings.
"What do you mean 'empty', Captain?" Shika asks, disbelief in his tone.
"Sir, they're just...gone. My scouts said that their trenches were abandoned too. Novoro is a ghost town right now." Mahogany says. Silence falls between the two. After a few minutes, Shika speaks up.
"Establish a perimeter, Captain. We're sending in some reinforcements to help you secure the town. Await further orders, you and your boys might be needed to help break another town. Shika out."
So, for the past six hours, myself and the rest of the platoon have been sitting here with nothing to do but watch the landscape for movement and for the arrival of our reinforcements. The boredom hasn't helped the strange feeling in my gut. I haven't been able to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. I tried bringing it up to Captain Mahogany, but he just dismissed it as nerves getting the better of me, that I had worked myself up thinking that we were going to be fighting for the town.
But this wasn't nerves. This was something else, something more primal, like a sixth sense going off.
We weren't safe here. My eyes scan the horizon, expecting the Zebra Legion to peak over and rush towards us. Eventually, the feeling in my gut turned to panic. I start to look at the other soldiers around me, unsure whether they were getting the same feeling as me. But every one of them seemed to be minding their own business, chatting among themselves, or taking a nap.
And yet, the feeling persisted, growing in urgency. It felt like a clock was counting down in my mind, to what, I couldn't say. I was starting to get jumpy, hyper aware of everything around me. I rushed into the train station, seeking Captain Mahogany. I find him working with the other squad leaders as they look over a map of the region.
"Sir." I call. Mahogany waves me off. "Sir!" I yell. Mahogany stands up and turns his gaze on me.
"What is it Sergeant? If you've come to me with another complaint of tummy issues, I can't help you." he says, irritation in his voice. I shake my head firmly.
"No sir, we need to find cover." I say quickly. Mahogany stares at me with confusion.
"Cover? Boy, have you lost it? This place is a ghost town. Reports indicate that there isn't a single speck of zebra presence in this whole area! What do we need to take cover from?" he presses, anger now rising as he approaches me. I start to fumble over my words as my sixth sense goes into overdrive.
Something bad was definitely coming.
"S-Sir, I-" I start, but Mahogany cuts me off.
"Sergeant Reaver, if you're starting to show signs that you are unfit for duty, I'm going to have to relieve you of duty! Now stop wasting my time, and get your shit together!" he barks. I grit my teeth and snarl.
"SIR! WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, SOMETHING IS VERY WRONG!" I bark. Mahogany stares wide eyed, rage filling his features. He begins to open his mouth when a resounding KABOOM rocks the air. I turn on my hooves and bolt for the station entrance, Mahogany hot on my heels. When I reach outside, a horrible sight presents itself to me.
A sickening green cloud, shaped like a mushroom, breaks the horizon. All around the station, the other soldiers scream in agony, their eyes burning in their sockets. A wall of green is rushing towards Novoro, spiraling and twisting with malicious intent.
"Everyone! Into the station! NOW!!" I yell. Mahogany stands back, helping those who can still see into the building. Those who's eyes were too damaged stumble and fall over objects as they scramble for safety. The wall of green rushes closer and closer with each passing second. The earth begins to rumble, signalling that we had mere seconds to live. Just as the last soldier makes it into the station, the entry way collapses due to the shaking foundation, sealing the entrance. I can hear the soldiers outside screaming and pleading, trying to get over the rubble. I look over to the ticket booth and spot a doorway.
"Mahogany!" I yell, pointing to the doorway.
"Everyone, into the basement!" He orders. Ponies begin rushing towards the doorway, some throwing themselves down the staircase as the others jostle for entry. The shaking ground threatens to shake the whole station to pieces. I can hear the wind growing louder now. The ponies outside are screaming now, pleading and praying for salvation. Mahogany yells for me, gesturing for me to hurry up. I run to the doorway, but time seems to slow down.
The doorway and the connected walls begin to bend towards the right, cracks showing in their surfaces as a great force pushes them. Wood splinters and rains down as the roof is ripped away. I can feel my hooves leaving the floor as I am picked up in the pushing wind as well. I watch as a wooden beam breaks and falls, impaling Captain Mahogany through the top of his skull. My world becomes a swirling, twisting mess of colors and sounds of total obliteration. My body is thrown like a rag doll. The last thing I remember seeing was the picture of my wife, Cherry Pop, falling out of my pocket and into the swirling mess around me.
Then, everything goes black.
Author's Note
Level Up! You have Reached Rank One!
Perk Added! Ghoulification - Congratulations! You've been exposed to a lethal dose of radiation! However, instead of dropping dead, you have now become a Ghoul! You gain a +5 Healing factor when you are near any radioactive source. This increases in strength with each point you put into this perk.
Author's Note: Hello there readers. Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. This is my seventh attempt at a Fallout: Equestria story of my own, and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Help me deliver a better product to you, the reader.
