Fallout Equestria: Commonwealth - Ranger's Way

Chapters

Prolog
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chater 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

Prolog

Prolog - Memories

My hooves ached, my brown mane and beige fur were matted and sticky from sweat. I was stumbling through a desert, sand as far as the eye can see. Shrubbery, devoid of leaves and a slightly darker brown than the sand dotted the landscape. There were few clouds in the sky were white and fluffy, but offered little protection from the sun. I was on the verge of collapsing; my shaking legs could barely support my weight, let alone the weight of my equipment. My NCR trooper armor and service rifle became heavier and heavier during the six hour walk south from New Appleoosa to Camp Dry Sands. I was using my teal-tinted magic to levitate the heavy pack I was carrying, but I was so exhausted that my levitation fizzled and went out, dropping my gear with a loud clunk in the hot sands. It didn’t help that I ran as much of the journey I could, but who could blame me? I was about to join the NCR rangers! My father named me Ranger for this reason!

The camp’s outer walls were about three minutes away now. I was so close! Come on legs, just a bit farther. My head hung limp, I didn’t want to use what little strength and will I had left to keep it up. My legs needed all I had. I settled at looking at the sand beneath my hooves change with every step I forced myself to take. I heard a voice call out to me, but I was so delirious i couldn’t make out what it was saying. A shadow appeared on the ground before me and a felt a hoof on my shoulder. My head raised enough to look at the hoof. It was brown colored with black armor plating along the lower front of the foreleg. Shifting my eyes, i was met with the black body armor partially covered by a brown duster. I was face to ballistic-gas-mask with a veteran ranger!

“Ah asked if yer alright?” the ranger said, his voice deep and gruff likely due to age and experience. He spoke with an accent that was common to the Appleoosa region. His features were hidden under his armor. The armored gas mask he wore even covered his horn.

“Hu… Huh? Oh! Uh, yeah. I’m okay… I think,” was my jumbled and rushed reply.

“Ya’ look like hell, son. C’mon, let’s get ya to the med tent,” he said as he moved to my side to support my weight. “Ah’m Dust Storm. What’s ya’ name, son? Where ya’ from?,” he asked as he led me to the camp gate. Another gate guard, this one trooper Pegasus mare, ran over to help after shouting to somepony to get the medics. She sounded around my age, I’d guess she was around her late teens, early twenties.

“P-private Ranger reporting for duty, sir,” I sputter out, meeting Dust Storm’s red-visored gaze, “I’ve been sent out this way from Searchlight to be recruited to the rangers. My family live in Junction Town.”

“Ah, the ranger named Ranger. You run the whole way here?” he turned his attention to the mare on my other side. “Brush Fire, take ‘em to the med tent. I’ll let the others our new blood has arrived.” He left my side and walked across the camp toward a nearby tent.
I didn’t like the way he said that. It sent a shiver down my spine and made my sweat matted fur on the back of my neck stand on end. I was right to feel that way; because after spending a few days in the med tent to recover, I immediately went through the toughest training the NCR had.

I stood on a stage; side by side with my fellow ranger recruits in an ornate dress uniform. The uniform consisted of a green jacket with a variety of pins and medals. The ranger’s patch, a bear reared up on its hind legs with a star in front of its belly, was sown on the right sleeve. There had been fifteen of us when training started but now there were only three. I didn’t know exactly how long it had been; the days and nights seemed to blend together after the first five days. But here I was, standing next to my fellow graduates as Chief Hooflon spoke into a microphone, giving a speech that I didn’t pay much attention to. A ranger didn’t need fancy words. We were described as “quieter than a shadow and more ferocious than a hellhound.” An accurate description.

I stood in the middle of our graduating trio; as straight as i could without overdoing it, my head level, face neutral, eyes forward. It took everything i had to keep this look up. I was beside myself with pride and excitement, but i had to keep cool. Brush Fire stood next to me at my right in the same attentive way I stood. I had no idea that she would be going through ranger training too. I’m glad she made it through. We had grown close throughout training and our preferred combat styles complemented each other well. Brush Fire liked fighting with shotguns and submachine guns up close whereas i preferred semi-automatic rifles, lever-action carbines, and revolvers.

To my left was Auto Banger; a hard headed Earth pony stallion. He was more relaxed than the Brush Fire and I; wearing a smug look on his face. He favored fully automatic and heavy weaponry. He tried to butt heads with me on almost everything, saying that I was handed my position as some sick joke because of my name. Auto really likes to flirt with mares. This included Brush Fire, my twin sister, and pretty much every mare he saw in the streets. He told once that when he became a ranger he could get any mare to - and i quote - “open their legs up nice and wide.” I punched him for that and it sparked our dislike for one another; but i had to give him some respect. He made it to graduation, after all. That and he was a good support gunner.

Chief Hooflon, now finished with his speech, turned to us; ready for the main event of the ceremony. The medals were a silver star outlined in gold with three gold lines extending from the sides. He said our names as he pinned them on our jackets, each of us saluting in turn. “Auto Banger, Ranger, Brush Fire,” his amplified voice spreading to the crowd of our peers, friends, and family, “You have endured rigorous combat training and relentless conditioning. You have earned these medals and the right to call yourselves rangers. Let me be the first to welcome you.” Hooflon and Brush Fire saluted each other before shaking; he moved to do the same to me, then Auto. He turned back to the crowd before taking a rigid, attentive stance. “Rangers” he called out loud, voice filled with authority, “Dismissed!”. We all gave a sharp salute before walking off the stage, applause erupting from the crowd below, I swear i could hear my mom cheering the loudest.
We did it.
I did it!
I’m a ranger!

I was laying atop a hill about a mile and a half from a slaver camp. The Lightbringer had all but destroyed the slaver operations in this part of Equestria, but that didn’t mean that the problem was gone. Radroaches like these always tend to pop now and again. Peering through binoculars that I held in my teal levitation; I could see that they had four slaves in the open. What concerned me more was the number of slaves we couldn’t see. The rangers were tasked with dealing with the situation, so it must have been bad. My mentor, the elderly ranger that had helped me to Camp Dry Sands eight years ago, lay next to me. He held a the rifle in his unique, yellow levitation, focusing his magic on the points you would hold them in your mouth or hooves instead of grabbing the entire weapon.

“This ain’t gonna be easy. Guard towers, sixteen slavers by mah count. Assault rifles, SMGs, shotguns; typical slaver weapons. There’s a Novasurge rifle that Ah’m worried about, but a well placed shot should take care o’ that. Ain’t easy, but ain’t the toughest thing we ‘ad ta do. An’ once we get this done, ya get your black armor.”

“What?” I turned my head to face him. Already? I hadn’t been a Ranger for that long. Was he messing with me again? “You’re joking again, aren't you,” there was no way he was serious.

“Not this time, Ranger,” he replied, turning to look at me. I’d only heard him this serious about a few thing. “Ya done good. Ya earned it. I watch you in the field, ya know. Ya was able to master Gunslinger Levitation quicker than Ah did, an’ Ah created it. Ah watched ya clear out entire camps o’ raiders singled hoofed, puttin’ bullets in brains so fast it was like ya had S.A.T.S that never ‘ad to recharge. You could even give Deadshot Calamity a run for his caps!

“And dontcha' dare let Echagi know Ah said this to ya, but she said you could best her in hoof-to-hoof. And she knows Doom Bunny Style. In mah eyes, yer not my student no more, yer more than ready to be called a Veteran. Ah was gonna give ya yer armor today, but we got called out ‘ere.” He must have seen the overjoyed look on my face. “Now don’t let all this old buck’s praise go to yer head,” he chuckled, “We gotta make it through tonight first. Keep yer head on straight and try not ta eat a bullet. We can talk more ‘bout it later.” Dust turned back to his scope said no more. Following his example, I looked back through the binoculars while shoving the excitement and urge to rush down the hill and tell the rest of my squad the good news into the back of my mind.

My squad consisted of Dust Storm, Brush Fire, Echagi, and Shiana. Echagi is a zebra Veteran ranger mare that almost never wore her headgear and replaced her duster with a stealth cloak. She had several knives strapped to her armor and a suppressed 9mm pistol strapped to her left foreleg. She had the standard leg armor replaced with metal boots that increases her hoof-to-hoof lethality. Echagi hardly ever spoke, never saying more than a few words at a time. She was older than me by about 25 years and, like Dust Storm, had been earned a Sequoia. Echagi became Brush Fire’s mentor because they both favored close-quarters-combat. She was sitting at the base of the hill, her ears turning this way and that listening for any sound that might be dangerous.

Shiana, a beautiful griffoness with, was our support gunner. She had a minigun and missile launcher battle saddle; and although she was just recruited into the rangers, was more disciplined than most of the Veterans I had met. She was a proud griffon, and her stance showed it. Shiana is disciplined, often spoke her mind, didn’t much care for subtlety, smart enough not to speak out of turn or on sensitive topics, and was easily one of the most loyal people I’d met in the Wasteland. She wanted to be a Talon serving under Gawdyna Grimfeathers, but the creation of the NCR changed her plans and she enlisted. I was personally very happy that she was placed in my squad a year ago. I really liked her.

A tapping on my shoulder drew my attention away from the slaver camp. Shiana was laying next to me. “Recon wants to talk to you. Said it’s urgent,” she said, her steady voice gave away nothing, but sounded like music to me. Recon was my identical twin sister.

“What does she want?” I ask, crawling down the hill before standing up so I didn’t give away our position, “And why did she send you? If it was really urgent, Recon would have gotten me herself.” I turned my head to where Brush Fire was talking with my sister. I was to far to hear what they were saying, but I got the feeling that they were gossiping about me. Shiana shrugged and raised one of her forelegs. I levitated the binoculars to her waiting claw and made my way to the chatting mares at the base of the hill. Recon liked to embarrass me at every opportunity she got. I narrowed my eyes and they both waved me over. What were they planning?

“Howdy, little bro,” Recon greeted as I approached, a goofy smile on her muzzle. Despite the fact we were twins; she was born fifteen seconds before me, so she was technically older. Brush Fire beside her gave me a simple nod, the same smile on her face. I didn’t like their smiles and I told them such. It only made them smile wider, which made me glare. “Oh come on,” Recon said, leaning toward me slightly, “What’s with the face?”

“Because I know your face. That’s your ‘mischief’ face. And that mischief is usually directed toward me. So what are you planning this time?” I really didn’t want to deal with her now. Not when we were about to assault a heavily guarded slaver base. But until Dust gave us the command, I was forced to suffer through Recon’s and Brush Fire’s plan.

“He doesn’t see the signs, Recon,” Brush Fire said, turning to my twin. “Should we tell him?” Oh great. They were being cryptic. Just great.
“Might as well. He’d never get it unless we say something,” Recon replied, meeting Bush’s eyes. I got the feeling I was going to hate this. Recon and Brush Fire zipped to each others side and spoke in a harmonic, sing-song voice, “She liiiiikes you.”

What? “What? Who? What are you two on about?” This had better not be a prank. I hated it when someone toyed with me like this. That’s why Recon did it all the time. Her eyes usually had the same mischievous look to them as her face, but this time they were serious. She left Brush’s side and went to mine, wrapped a foreleg around my neck and used her other forehoof to turn my head to where Shianna lay atop the hill. She was looking down at us. At me. She quickly turned her head back to the slaver camp, taking one last glance at me from the corner of her eyes. No way…

Recon turned my head back to her, “That. Shianna likes you about as much as you like her.” Brush Fire’s voice quipped from to my left just out of view, “She thought you and I were a thing. Can you believe that? She jumped damn near three stories in joy when I told her we weren’t. I see you more of a cousin anyway.” Recon practically had to pick my jaw off the ground it hung so far open. Echagi chuckled at the sight playing out before her. Good to know my reaction was entertaining.

“‘Nough jibber-jabber,” Dust Storm’s authoritative voice called out from atop the hill, “Ah gots a plan. Echagi, yer gonna take Ranger, Brush Fire, and Shiana and sneak up to the camp. Recon and I will set up sniper positions outside the camp and cover you when the shooting starts. Echagi will leave y’all at the wall, swipe the collar detonator, and regroup before the shooting starts. It’s gonna rain soon, so the slaves will cluster up to stay warm. That means that most of the guards will be as close to the slaves as possible while staying dry. That means easy targets. They won’t expect us. Get this done quick and right, Recruits. Move out!”

I had way too much going through my mind, and now I was going assault a slaver camp that required Rangers to take them out?! I prayed to whatever goddesses that cared enough to listen that I could keep a level head.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I was able to calm myself by the time we reached the camp’s wall. The rain had covered our approach perfectly. Echagi held up a hoof, signaling us to hold our position. She put her hood up and disappeared. Although she was invisible, she had to she still had to be careful not to draw attention to herself. If the slavers saw the rain hitting a vaguely pony-shaped wisp, our operation would be screwed. I watched her invisible form move to the gate and disappear through the entrance. All we had to do now was weight for her to return. Shianna, Brush Fire, and I were left at the wall in the pouring rain. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, it was louder than the downpour around me. I still had my trail carbine strapped to my back, I couldn’t risk the sound and glow of my magic alerting the slavers inside. I’ve handled tougher situations than this, but I was so on edge. I had to calm down somehow.

Shiana placed a claw on my shoulder. She looked concerned. “You ok?” Her voice weighed heavy with worry. Those two words were enough to make heart my stop. I must have had a dumb look on my face when I looked up to her, because the worried look she had got worse when our eyes met. ‘Don’t just stand there slack-jawed, you moron! Say something’ I mentally screamed at myself. I was face to face with the griffoness I had a crush and she had a crush on me back, and i was blowing it! I was about to say something but i was interrupted as hooves wrapped around my head and pushed me forward. Shiana’s head got the same treatment as mine and my lips met her beak. A glance showed that Brush Fire held my head while Echagi’s still invisible form held Shiana’s. Echagi was in on this too?!

We struggled at first, managing to break the forced kiss, but our assaulters held firm. Shiana eventually conceded and wrapped her forelegs around me pulling me into another kiss, this time more passionate. I reached my hooves up to wrap around her neck, closing my eyes my leaned in. Her beak felt strange, but I enjoyed the tender moment in the rain. I would have thought it was romantic, but the fact that my teammates were right next to us about to assault a slaver camp ruined the mood. We broke away from each other gasping for air. “So,” Shiana said, panting, “We a thing now?”

Echagi stepped between us, “Unfortunately, we must commence the assault. I am happy that you have realized your feelings for each other. I pray for your safety. Let’s go.” I think that was the most Echagi ever spoke at one time. I drew my lever action rifle, wrapping my levitation around the trigger and fore-grip instead of the whole rifle, and loaded the .44 magnum rounds into the tube. Brush Fire placed a drum mag in her riot shotgun and loaded a shell. Shiana kicked the loading mechanism on her battle saddle. We all had a determined look on our faces. We were ready.

The assault ended only three minutes after it had begun. Dust and Recon had taken out the tower guards before they could alert their comrades below. Shiana had taken to the sky and began firing her minigun into any hostile she saw. I was beneath her, keeping her covered and taking out targets that she wasn’t shooting at. Brush fire flew up high, diving at her targets before pelting them with 12 gauge buckshot. Echagi dispatched slavers quickly and silently, sneaking up behind them and slitting their throats. Dust and Recon had taken out any slaver that tried to use the storm and battle to cover their escape. We were in the process of confirming our kills when they entered the camp. The rain had was less a down pour and more of a steady drizzle now. “Team, regroup. Ranger, status,” Dust commanded

We had gathered in one of the sheet metal shacks that the slavers had laid their bedding in. Only Echagi was absent as I gave my report, “All hostiles down. No friendly injuries. The slavers killed three of their captives, wounded another five during the battle. Four were already dead before we arrived. Twenty-three captives remain, Sir. Echagi is working on getting the collars off now,” I was a little upset that we couldn’t have saved them all, but I knew better to dwell on on. The wasteland had a habit of giving good things at a terrible cost. We had saved 23, but lost seven. It seemed that the odds weren't so bad this time.

“Thirty captives? Damn… Brush, you treat the wounded. Shiana, help Echagi with collar removal. Ranger, find the cart they used to transport the captives. Lotta these foak’ll be too weak to walk and we’ll need to get these ponies to a Follower outpost. Recon and Ah will keep an eye out incase more decide to show up.

“Hate to admit it, but they set themselves up good out ‘ere. Not quite ’ough to be a base, but perfect for a ranger outpost. Might even be ours if the NCR decides to keep it. Anyhow, let's hop to it. The sooner we get these ponies safe, the sooner Ranger gets his new-” he was cut off by a loud crash.

A unicorn mare had just kicked a makeshift door open and was glaring at us with her teeth bared. Floating above her in her red levitation was a missile launcher. The world around me flashed yellow before it was turned upside down as Dust threw away from an impending fiery death. The missile obliterated the shack a few seconds later, sending the flimsy scrap metal used to build it in all directions. One piece sliced my cheek oped just under my right eye.

Shiana was screaming off toward my right, her left hind leg a bloody, ragged stump. Brush hire landed next to me unconscious. I couldn’t see where Recon was. The slaver mare walked over to Shiana. She had thrown the missile launcher away and now had the Novasurge rifle floating beside her.

“You NCR fuckwads come into my place, kill my crew, try to take away my profit?! Hell no! I’m gonna mount your fucking heads on sticks after I’m done carving you up for what you’ve done,” she screamed at her in rage. She pressed the rifle to Shiana’s head. No. NO! I jumped to my hooves and tackled her. She was so focussed on sneering as Shiana that she never saw me coming. I slammed her to the ground and started pumbling her face. She tried to push me off her but it was no use. I was twice her size and fury had numbed my nerves. I kept punching.

I had no idea how long I’d been beating the slaver for, but it took the combined effort of Echagi, a now conscious Brush Fire, Recon, and two of the more able-bodied slaves to pulled me off the her. The slaver mare’s head was reduced to a bloody pulp of brains and skull fragments. I was covered in blood. I was punching the ground more than her face at that point.

Shiana had stopped screaming and her leg had been mummified. Dust was gone. The blast had torn him apart, thrown chunks of him this way and that. It made me sick to look at his shredded form, but I couldn’t look away. My friend, my mentor, somepony I looked up to and respected was gone in an instant.

I had slumped against a wall and sat on the ground, emotionally and physically drained. At my hooves was Dust’s Sequoia. It’s barrel was bent up and left, the hammer was gone, the trigger moved freely, the cylinder didn’t open, and most of the laminated wood on the mouthgrip was gone. It was utterly useless. But I didn’t want to use it. I was going to keep it as a memento. I secured the Sequoia in the straps of my armor and stood up.

I couldn’t sulk any longer. We still needed to get Shiana and the slaves to the Followers. I stood up and turned to my teammates. “We still have work to do,” my voice was hollow, “Load everypony in the cart. Get Shiana and Dust in the cart too. I’ll get hooked up.”

Brush Fire walked up to me and placed a hoof on my shoulder. “Are you OK?” Was I? My special somepon- uh, somegriffon was mortally wounded and my mentor and best friend was dead. My body was numb and I felt nothing, likely in shock, and I was fairly sure that my forehooves were broken. I was filthy; covered in dirt and blood that belonged to both me and the slaver. There was no way I was OK.

“No, I’m not. But there’s no time for any of that right now. Shiana’s going to bleed out if we don’t go now. Thanks for looking out for me, but I’m low priority.” The worried look Brush had on my face got worse and I could tell she wanted to argue about the words I had said; but she knew that time was short enough as is. I strapped myself into the the cart as.

Brush Fire, Recon, and Echagi loaded everyone into the back of the cart. I moved as fast as I could without making the ride unbearable for my passengers. Recon road atop the cart, scanning the horizons through the scope of her sniper rifle. Brush Fire flew above us, ready for trouble. Echagi was in the back with the slaves, doing what she could for the wounded. I kept moving, despite the excruciating pain that had slowly returned to my forehooves. I had to keep going. Shiana would die if I slowed. So I didn’t.

By the time I reached the Follower outpost, Shiana had fallen into unconsciousness. Echagi assured me she was alive, but I couldn’t handle losing her too. It felt like my forelegs were dipped in taint; the excruciating pain had partially blinded me through tears. It took everything I had not to scream in pain. Brush Fire had flown ahead and told them we were coming. I had reached exhaustion long ago, but I kept running. My sides burned and I was gasping for air.

The world around me began to warp and shift; a hallucination born from fatigue and pain. I was no longer in my green ranger armor; I was wearing my old trooper gear. The cart I was pulling disappeared, replaced with heavy saddle bags that contained ammo, a canteen, and basic medical supplies. A veteran ranger was walking up to me. “Are ya alright,” he asked. His voice was muffled and distorted, but there was no mistaking Dust’s voice. I knew he wasn’t really there. My answer was no before I fell limp in the straps of the harness, slipping into unconsciousness.

Years had passed, and the experiences I had hardened me. I adopted a mask of stoicism that I allowed to fall away when around only those closest to me. I was wearing my black combat armor underneath a brown duster coat. Chief Hooflon had given me my Sequoia a few hours ago. After the small ceremony, I was approached by a veteran ranger I had never met. She told me that my exceptional combat prowess had caught the eyes of her peers. After assuring that her little splinter group was loyal to the NCR, she told me to meet them after the party. They had me intrigued, so I figured I’d give it a look-see.

I was walking through the door of an old office building. The the cracked walls and ruined furnishings, somepony had put a lot of effort into cleaning this place up. It was still covered in dirt and grime, but there was little debris strewn about.There was no power in the building and it was lit by lanterns and a few lamps. A veteran stood behind the lobby desk and watched me as I looked around.

“Welcome. You’re Ranger?” he spoke in a pleasant enough voice. I nod and he continues, “Marvelous. Morning Dew had informed us you were coming. Follow me, and I’ll tell you about the Wolf Pack.” He motioned me to follow and I complied. He lead me through the halls, past offices and break rooms. “The Wolf Pack is a ranger splinter group formed of only the best veterans that earn a Sequoia. Along with your usual ranger duties, the Pack are called in to handle any situation that normal rangers can’t. We work exclusively for President Grimfeathers. If she decides that it’s a Wolf Pack situation; we go in and handle it any way we see fit, then go home.”

We turned down a hall and walked through a door into a meeting room. The desk was gone and there was a fire barrel in the middle of the room with a metal rod sticking out of it. There were six rangers standing around it, all of them veterans. One of them stepped toward me.

“I trust you know what your being here means. I need to know now. Will you join the Wolf Pack?” I nod. “Good. Now remove your armor. All of us Wolves have undergone the same initiation,” he pointed his hoof to the metal rod in the fire, “That is the Wolf’s Mark. A branding iron made in the shape of our symbol. Place it on the back of the base of your neck. Once this is done, you will be a member of the Wolf Pack.”

I gulped and complied, removing my duster and armor. Grabbing the branding iron in my levitation, I moved it to hover over the spot indicated. I take a deep breath, grit my teeth, and press the glowing end to my neck. The smell of burning fur and melting flesh fill my nostrils and i scream out in agony. The world swirls around me and fades away into empty blackness as I awaken from my memory dream.

Author's Note

Wow, ok, super nervous. Huge thanks goes out to Kkat for creating Fallout Equestria and to Crazyperson for letting me write this story in the world he created. I only pray that I can live up to expectations. This also happens to be my first story, so it might be a bit rough.
I decided to only capitalize Ranger's name and not the ranger soldier because I found it a tad confusing when he says, "I'm Ranger, a Ranger."
Anyhow, thanks for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy! :pinkiehappy:

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Getting ready

I lurched awake, breathing heavily and sweating. The branding on my neck stung and throbbed. It had been almost five years since I had gotten it; every time somepony mentioned the Wolf Pack I experienced phantom pains on my branding. I reached my forehoof to rub at the spot until the pain faded. I was laying in my bed at the house Shiana and I owned.

She had survived and I thank the Goddesses every day for that. We had gotten to know each other more over the years. Our relationship had blossomed to the point we got married. A traveling pastor had come to Junction Town a few years ago and told Shiana all about the pre-war ritual. As a result, I was wearing a silver colored wedding band around the base of my horn.

The ring was make-shift; created from the round end of one of Shiana’s wrenches. After she lost her leg, she was forced to retire from military service. Having nothing else better to do, she picked up a wrench and screwdriver and started tinkering. She found out she loved and and never look back. Our home was filled with her projects, ranging from an electronic alarm clock to a stove. There were things that unicorns could do that she couldn’t, but that didn’t discourage her at all. It was just another reason love her.

The griffon in question was standing at the door to the bedroom. She had her patented “you ok?” look. She gave me that look cence the Wolf Pack situation. Shiana was one of the few that knew everything that happened. She had light grey feathers speckled with black, darker gray fur, and orange eyes

“Another dream, more phantom pains. I’m ok,” I said to her, still groggy from sleep. I closed my eyes and rubbed them with my hooves. When I opened them again, Shaian was standing at the side of the bed, staring at me with a frown. “Really, Shiana. I’m fine. Just a nightmare.” She leaned forward, her face inches from mine, her eyes boring into me. I chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of her beak, “There, see?” She kissed me back and hobbled back to the door. My eyes lingered on her flanks for a few seconds before lowering to her stump hind leg. I really had to make that trip out to Dice once I got enough time off. Rumor had it that their cybernetics were the best in the wasteland.

Shiana turned her head to face me before walking down the stairs. “You lookin’ at my ass or my stump?” she spoke in a faux anger. The look on her face matched her voice but her eyes were nothing but playful. I chortle at her and tell her I was looking at both. “Whatever. Recon and Brush Fire are here. They wanted to meet up before you headed out.” They did? How nice of them. But why were they here so early? A quick glance at the clock next to my bed showed that it was 10:35 a.m.

“10:35?! Why didn’t you wake me earlier?!” My squad was supposed to head out soon and I just woke up! I jumped out of bed and ran to the closet that we had scavenged. Inside was a variety of ranger armor and outfits. I hastily grabbed my veteran armor and began putting it on. “Where’s my helmet? I need my helmet. And my mask! Shiana, stop laughing. I need to leave soon!”

“They’re in my workshop, silly. I’ve been working on them since last night. Just finished too. I came to check on you when I found Recon and Brush at the door. They’re downstairs. Go chat with em and I’ll go get your gear.” She said before stepping past me and leaving through the window. I had finished strapping on my combat armor and was levitating the brown duster to me before I left the room. For future reference, don’t try to walk down the stairs while trying to put on a duster. The result will be scrapes, bruises, possibly broken bones, and getting laughed at by your sister and her marefriend.

Picking myself up and brushing dirt of me, I turned to the two chuckling mares. Brush Fire was a red pegasus with a orange mane and tail with yellow streaks. Her eyes were matched the streaks in her mane. She was wearing her veteran armor, a black, pre-war Los Pegasus Riot combat vest, underneath a brown duster, faded blue pants, simple leather boots on our hind hooves, and armor plates on our lower forelegs and hooves. Her helmet, a pre-war combat helmet with a red visored ballistic gas mask, sat on the table next to where she sat.

Recon, my identical twin sister, sat next to her. We shared our beige colored coat and brown manes and tails; but her eyes were blue and mine were teal. Another easy way to tell us apart was the horn on my head. I was an unicorn and she was an earth pony. Recon was wearing her trooper armor, khaki combat fatigues with a armored breastplate adorned with the NCR’s symbol, and brown combat boots, with a bandoleer across her chest that held extra ammo and other miscellaneous supplies. On her head sat her 1st Recon beret; red in color with the 1st Recon’s symbol, a bear skull in front of two crossed rifles. Their motto, “The last thing you never see,” was at the bottom of the symbol. I’d like to think I was a good markspony, but Recon’s accuracy with a sniper rifle was scary sometimes.

“Are you OK? That tumble looked petty nasty,” Brush Fire spoke with concern. She had been my partner since ranger training and was one of my best friends. “It was funny too,” Recon added. Leave it to her to add a smart-ass comment. Brush Fire turned to her, a frown on her face, “You shouldn’t be so mean to your brother,” she scolded her like a child. It made me chuckle.

“She’s only mean because she knows she can get away with it,” I say, taking a seat across from her.

“That still gives her no right! Your sibling relationship isn’t healthy. You should be nice to each other,” Brush Fire stuck her nose up at us, continuing on about how we should act.

Recon and I shared a look. “Can’t you do something about this? She’s your partner,” Recon said to me.

“Don’t look at me,” I retort, “She’s your marefriend.”

“Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna play? Fine,” Recon turned to the still prattling Brush Fire. “Ahem, Brushie?” she said, the use of her special nickname caught her attention and thankfully stopped her rant, “Bite me.” Brush Fire gasped in shock, a surprised look on her face. Her look of surprise morphed into one of malice. I got the feeling I wouldn’t like what happens next. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” Brush Fire’s voice was low and dangerous. Uh oh.

“Wait wha- ow! Brush, what the hell?! Get off me! Don’t you dare! OW!” Brush Fire tackled her, puttering her into a submission hold taught to rangers for apprehension of live targets. Brush sat atop Recons back, her legs wrapped around Recon’s to prevent movement. She had one of Recon’s ears in her jaws.

“Wassa’ ma-er? I ‘ought ya ‘riked me bitin’ ya,” Brush Fire mumbled behind a mouthful of ear, causing Recon to blush. She called to me for help, but I was laughing too hard. Recon started thrashing about underneath Brush Fire in an attempt to break free of the hold. The lighter pegasus mare may have had Recon in a submission hold, but her superior earth pony strength meant that she wouldn’t stay for long. Recon was able to get her hooves under and lift herself and Brush off the ground. “Alright, you want a rough ride?"

Recon began running around my house, taking sharp turns and about-faces to throw Brush Fire this way and that. Brush Fire made noises that were best described as a mixture between laughing and screaming. To my dismay, their rowdiness was also destroying the house! I frantically caught the object thrown about in my magic: a lamp, a picture, a clock, a chair; if Recon sent it airborne, I caught it.

“STOP,” I yelled, “If you break anything, Shiana would be pissed. You do not, I repeat, do not, want Shiana pissed.” I looked the items over in my magic, checking to see if they were broken, and gently placed them back where they came from. My warnings about an angry griffoness worked. Recon stopped abruptly and sent Brush Fire flying over shoulder with a shout of surprise and crashing into a restored dining table.

I winced at the broken table, Recon next to me muttering a string of curses under her breath. Brush Fire groaned from her position on the ground. “Now would be a good time to leave. Before you break anything else,” I say, “Brush and I need to leave soon anyway, right?” Brush Fire nodded and stood up.

I walk around the destroyed table and toward a small safe. Shiana had been paranoid and rigged a spark battery to the safe to electrify it. She was paranoid about thieves, and being a ranger made me a bit of a target. I deactivate the safe and using one of the two keys that can open it. Inside the safe was a small bag of caps, a slightly larger bag of NCR bits, two Sequoias, four boxes of 45-70 ammo, and Shiana’s hand cannon. One of the Sequoias was mine, earned for 20 years of honorable service. The other was Dust’s destroyed Sequoia that I kept as a memento and good luck charm. I grabbed the Sequoias and placed mine in the holster on my foreleg and Dust’s in one of the pockets in my duster. I also grabbed the ammo.

“That reminds me, Dad’s coming to see you off.” Oh, wonderful. Father and I didn’t talk much after I joined the Wolf Pack and our relationship got worse after their betrayal. Today wasn’t going well at all. “Don’t make that face, Ranger,” Recon scolded me when she saw my scowl, “Please, Ranger. He wants to make amends.” I huff and walk out on the street, Recon and Brush Fire following me.

“He has a lot to make up for. I wasn’t the only one he treated like shit. MP hasn’t even mentioned Father since he joined the Followers. And you. When are you going to tell Father that you and Brush Fire are together?” my voice was cold. MP, short for Military Police, is my younger brother. Father had a stupid thought of, “If I name my children after the position the in the NCR military I want them to serve in, then that’s what they will do.” It didn’t work out that way for MP. When he decided that he wanted to join the Followers of the Apocalypse, Father threw a fit.

It didn’t help that Father was from Stable. Stable 50’s experiment was based on sexuality. From the files and recordings recovered, Stable 50 started out as normal stable, but eventually devolved into a fanatical heterosexual community. Father grew up believing that if a stallion didn’t like mares, tat that stallion was sick and the only cure was brutal beatings. Finding out that MP didn’t want to “live up to his name” and he liked stallions; Father damn near shot him. I stepped in and told him off. That started the rough relationship between my dad and me.

Recon refused to meet my eyes, suddenly finding the dirt more interesting, “I thought so.” He has been living the wasteland, where nobody gives a single fuck about who you’re fucking, far to long to still believe what he was told in the stable.

“Brush, when do the alicorns leave?” I felt bad about being so harsh to Recon, so I decided to change the subject. My squad was going to be sent out to the Commonwealth after a group of Follower alicorns. The Followers were hoping to make contact with a local group and spread their influence. The NCR liked this idea so much that they wanted in too. Our task was simple: protect allies and make new ones, establish NCR presence, and make the Commonwealth a better place. The unfortunate part; the NCR didn’t tell the Followers we were coming too.

“The left an hour ago,” Brush answered. I wasn’t sure why The NCR decided to keep this secret from our allies, but I had little time to dwell on it. If they left an hour ago, we were already far behind. The could fly a great distance at high speed. Brush Fire pulling a sky chariot would be our best bet at catching up. The alicorns could handle themselves, of that I had no question; so why send a squad of rangers just to act as assistants? There was more to this they weren't telling us.

“Then we had better get moving. Shiana should meet us at the train station. We can leave when I get my hel-” I was cut off as a small form crashed into me and we were sent tumbling through the street. I had landed on my back, my spinning eyes focusing on the foal sitting on my chest. He had an angry look in his green eyes and was out of breath from the run.

“You were gonna leave without saying goodbye, weren't you?!” he screamed down at me, “You were gonna leave and get hurt and die and all without saying goodbye,” he wailed, tears forming in his eyes now. My baby brother, a dark brown colt with a orange mane named Trooper, had ran halfway across town to tackle me. I laugh and ruffle his mane.

“You run through town like a mad pony to say goodbye to me? And who told you I was leaving, hmm?” I lift Trooper off me and stood up, “I’d never do that to you, lil’ buddy. And what was that about me dying?” I narrow my eyes and lean forward. Trooper starts stammering, trying to think of something to say. I chuckle and lift him onto my back with my magic.

“I told him, son,” a familiar voice spoke from behind me, deep and gruff with age and experience but soft enough to be kind. My father was standing in the direction Trooper had come running from. “I was going to come see you anyway, and Troop refused to stay behind,” he said with a small smile on his face. Usually he’d be accusing me of some horrible thing that led to an argument, but he was being civil. Maybe he really did want to make amends. “Listen, Ranger. Before you leave, I wanted to te-”

“Save it,” I cut him off with a frown, “Recon already told me. I’m glad you want to talk, really. But if you want things to go back to the way things were before… everything; then you have to talk to MP first. Reconcile with him, then we’ll talk after I get back.” Our rough patches started over MP and got worse over time, so I thought MP should be the start of making things better.

“After you get back? You’re going to leave without giving me a chance?” his voice was filled with hurt and sadness. I felt terrible, but I didn’t have much choice. I sigh and turn to him. His face matched his voice. His tan mane had began to go gray with age, his yellow coat was matted, there were bags under his bloodshot green eyes. He looked tired, likely from staying up all night working up the courage to do this.

I walk up to him,look him in the eyes, and wrap my hooves around his neck in a hug. I may not have had the best relationship with my father, but he was still my dad. He was surprised at first, but quickly joined the hug. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you want to make amends,” I meet his eyes again, “But I have no time. We’re already behind and I need to meet up with the rest of my squad. We’ll talk when I get back. I have no idea when, but I will come back. OK?”

“Make sure you do, son. I’ll be looking forward to it,” his eyes were full of hope now. I pat him on the shoulder and turn back to the train station. The train should be arriving soon. Shiana was flying toward us; my helmet in her claws and a scoped hunting rifle on her back. I floated Trooper off my back and turned to Shiana as she landed.

“It took a while, but I managed to wire some old PipBuck systems to your mask. Along with the standard Low Light Visual System, I hooked it up with E.F.S.! The mask was easy because it already had electronic systems,” she grabbed the rifle off her back, “Now this was a little tough, so Recon had to help me; but we managed to build a S.A.T.S. scope!” Where did she even get a PipBuck? And why did she think I needed S.A.T.S.? Nevertheless, I took the offered rifle and strpped it to my back.

“Now before you start going on about how you don’t need anything to help you aim,” Shiana, I love you but I hate it when you read my mind, “You don’t need help aiming. You have fantastic aim. With more than just guns,” I quickly cover Trooper’s ears and glare at her. Not while children are present! “Anyway, You’re a good shot and you know it, but you’re not so great at sniping,” OK, that was fair I suppose. I was a good shot, but sniping was not my strong suit.

“Where did you even get a PipBuck to cannibalize for this anyway? Those things are super rare. Why not just give me the PipBuck?” That would have saved them a lot of work and hassle.

“The PipBuck screen was busted beyond repair,” Dad answered.

“Just accept the damn gift, Ranger,” Recon snapped.

“Because that would have been no fun,” Shiana huffed.

“You hate how PipBucks look,” Brush Fire deadpanned.

“I dunno,” Trooper said innocently.

They all spoke at the same time; they all had valid reasons, except maybe Trooper. I looked at each of them before saying a simple ok. I take my helmet from Shiana’s outstretched claw and place it over my head. The visor was made by enchanted red glass that was clear when see through the inside of the mask. A compass was set at the lower left of the left lense and numbers on the lower right, both white in color.

“Alright, the green lines on the compass are friendly, red are hostile, and yellow are neutral,” Dad started explaining the new functions my helmet had, “The numbers on the left are how much ammo you have. Above the ammo counter should be the S.A.T.S. spell charge. Above the compass should be your-” Shiana cut him off.

“He doesn’t have all that. He would if he wore a PipBuck, but he only has the compass and ammo counter. The S.A.T.S. charge should be in the lower left of the scope. It’ll be transparent so it doesn’t make aiming through the scope a liability. Following so far?” I nod, “Good. No health monitoring because you don’t have the thing on your hoof. I trust you don’t need it to know how close to death you are.

“To activate S.A.T.S. you need to plug this little wire here into the IR/white light lamp on your helmet. That’s also where we hooked the E.F.S. by the way. It’d be a good idea not to let that take a bullet,” Well, that was self explanatory. Dad took over explanation again.

“S.A.T.S will freeze time. The target will be divided into segments that give a percentage on your chance to hit. It’s mostly thought controlled, so just think about navigating the segment, selecting your shots, and firing. Really self explanatory. I would offer you a test run, but the train’s pulling into the station now,” I turn to the station to see, sure enough, the train was pulling up. I had been so focused on their explanation that I somehow didn’t manage to hear the train rolling into the station. My father placed his hooves on my shoulders again, “You should be able to figure it out on your own. Be careful out there, Ranger. Good luck.”

He pats me on the shoulder and takes a step back. Shiana quickly wraps me in a hug that I gladly return. She says nothing to me; she doesn’t need to. Her presence is enough. I let her go and turn to Trooper. I ruffle his mane and say, “See you later, little buddy,” before turning to Recon.

Recon just gives a simple, “Look after yourself, little bro,” before sharing a quick look with Brush Fire. Recon begins walking off to tend to other duties she had to do for the day. Dad followers her shortly after and Trooper gives a wave before bounding after his heels. Shiana stays to see me off.

I turn to Brush Fire as she puts on her helmet. We share a look, a silent agreement to watch after each other and make sure we come back to our loved ones. We turn to the train in unison and walk forward. We enter the train car and sit across from each other. Brush Fire takes her helmet off and looks out the window. I take the rifle off my back and look it over.

We won't be on the train for long, only to New Appleoosa to rendezvous with the rest of the squad before heading out. Wouldn't be long at all.

Ranger- Level 34

Strength- 7
Perception- 5
Endurance- 9
Charisma- 4
Intelligence- 5
Agility- 7
Luck-5

Tag Shills-

Small Guns +15
Unarmed +15
Repair+15
Medicine +15

Traits-

Trigger Discipline-
You prefer to conserve ammo. You fire 20% more slowly than most wasteland ponies but are 20% more accurate.

Hot Blooded-
Pain pisses you off. When your health drops below 50% you gain +10% damage, but you suffer -2 to your Agility and Perception.

Author's Note

Not much to say other than the thank yous to Kkat for FoE, Crazyperson for letting me write this, and you for taking time to read. I hope you bare with a novice writer as he attempts to write a grand adventure. Feel free to give any advice or critism along the way.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Departure

The train ride allowed me to use my special talent on the S.A.T.S. rifle. I could take a gun apart, inspect the parts, tell if they need repairs or replacement, and put it back together in only a few seconds. My cutie mark was a magnifying glass and symbolized my eye for detail. Anything larger or more complex like miniguns ore magic energy weapons required more time and focus to complete the process.

I sat in a meditative state in my seat on the train, my eyes closed as the rifle's parts swirled around me my teal magic. I took in everything I could. Serial numbers, weight, length, wear on the parts, bullet caliber, and magazine size. It was an old rifle, bolt action, a long, narrow, wooden stock ran the entire length of the rifle. The barrel extended an inch or two past the body. The scope, mounted above the action, was the most high tech thing on the rifle. It was square in shape and had a box crudely attached and wired into the right side. The box was where the S.A.T.S. module, I guess I'll call it, was housed.

The weapon held five rounds of .308 ammo. The receiver looked brand new compared to the rest of the rifle. Shiana probably had to replace the old receiver for safety and functionality. This thing was old; but had been cleaned, repaired, and restored into firing condition only recently. I remember when my father showed me this rifle when I was just a colt. He said it was one of the first guns that Equestria made; that it had been used by our ancestor during the war, and he brought it with him to the Stable when the bombs fell.

Dad said it was once a powerful and reliable rifle, but 200 years sitting in a Stable had made the rifle inoperable. He always wanted it restored, but didn't trust any of the gunsmiths with the heirloom and lacked the knowledge to do it himself. The fact that it was floating around me in working condition was more proof that he wanted to make amends. It made me feel worse for having to blow him off.

A hoof gently shaking me brought me out of my trance. Brush Fire was standing next to me in the isle, "Wake up, we're here." I quickly assemble the rifle and stand up. There were a bunch of other ponies riding the train, but they kept to themselves; they had their own things to do. I forced myself into a stoic silence as we stepped off the train. Auto Banger waiting for us.

"'Bout fuckin' time you showed up. Echagi was startin' to get pissed. What took so long anyway? Were you two fuckin' or somethin'?" I glared at the stallion from behind my mask; if looks could kill, he'd be better off dipped in taint. Auto Banger had a blue coat and a yellow mane and tail with a grey stripe running through the middle. He wore the same ranger veteran armor that our entire squad had, but had his helmet off; Goddesses only knew where it was.

Brush Fire spoke before I had to a chance to tell Auto off, "He's married to Shiana and I like mares. He's like a brother to me. Say something like that again, I will break your jaw" I wouldn't have warned him. Auto joined the rangers just so he could revel in the glory of the title and get laid. I had hated him since training. In all honesty, he was only still in our squad because nobody else wanted him in theirs. That wasn't to say he was a bad ranger, quite the contrary; his attitude made him damn near unlikable.

"Fine, shit," Auto raised his hooves in surrender, "Echagi's just outside of town. We meet up, strap Brush to a sky chariot, get to Dry Sands to get geared up and briefed. Then we haul ass after the alicorns." Brush and I nodded. That was simple enough but a briefing? We all knew what we were going to do; why brief us on what we already know?

An NCR sky chariot was waking for us just outside of the town entrance. Scope sat on the back, cleaning his rifle. He was our squad's sniper; and was a long range fanatic. Scope had grey fur, light purple mane and tail, and orange eyes. He wore the same veteran armor we all wore, his helmet sitting next to him on the cart. Scope was the newest addition to our squad; he had just earned his black armor and was still young.

He looked up at us as we approached a brief moment before turning back to his rifle. His head shot up again; his expression one of shock and surprise. He set the rifle down next to his helmet and jumped off the cart an rant to me; covering the distance between us in just a few seconds. This earth pony was faster than some pegasi I knew.

"Where did you get that rifle!?! I've only seen them in books and inventory logs, but never with my own eyes! How old is it? Well, it's pre-war, so at least 200! Does it still use .30-06 rounds? How accurate? Max distance? Ranger, how did you get your hooves on a Springfield!?!" He sent a barrage of questions my way, keeping his eyes inches away from mine. Was he drooling? Brush Fire chuckled and trotted to the front of the cart to get strapped in. Auto jumped into the cart without a word. I guess help with this situation was out of the question.

"My father had it from the Stable. He said it was one of the first rifles made in Equestria, so I'd guess it's old. It has a .308 receiver. Haven't fired it yet. Before you ask; no, you can't. This rifle is a gift from my father and a family heirloom," I said as I walked around him to the cart. He trotted backwards, our eyes still meeting. I felt a little bad, but I had to crush the kid's dreams. I honestly didn't trust myself with the rifle; let alone anyone else.

"B-but that's probably the only Springfield in the wasteland!" he protested, "Can't I just hold it?" The poor kid was pleading. He saw the rarest sniper rifle in the wastes and he couldn't have it. The fact that I was the one who had it was an added insult to an already grave injury. I felt for the kid, really I did; but this wasn't my rifle to give out. I said nothing, walked around him, and jumped into the back of the cart. My silence was my answer.

The cart was empty, which was strange. NCR carts usually had seats along the walls but this had only the wood floor. Auto sat in the middle of the floor shuffling a deck of playing cards. Scope jumped into the cart and sat at the back with a huff, muttering under his breath. I hoped he'd get a grip soon. I sat near the front of the cart and leaned against the wall. The place across from me was distorted from Echagi's stealth field. She removed the hood of her stealth cloak and glared at me.

"You are late," she said. Welp, I'm in trouble. Echagi, a zebra mare with emerald eyes and a long mohawk mane tied into a ponytail behind her ears, is our squad leader. She had the same black combat armor, but replaced the duster with her stealth cloak, and never wore her helmet. She had knives of various shapes and sizes strapped all along her armor. She specialized in stealth and silent take downs. She was twirling her favorite knife around her hoof. Oh yeah, lots of trouble.

I sighed and hung my head in defeat, "I know. I'm sorry. I got held up earlier," I told her. Our mission was in jeopardy because of me; she had every right to be mad. "I spoke to my father in the first time in... a long time. Held me up. Sorry," She stopped spinning her knife and leaned toward me.

"Hmm... You spoke more than usual. And actually apologized. What's on your mind?" I looked away from her. She already knew what was on my mind; why ask? "Ranger, look at me. This isn't the usual dark cloud around you. Something has you in a bad mood, and I need to know if will interfere with the mission," she said sternly. She was right, but I didn't like letting myself be vulnerable; especially around Auto. He'd just find a way to ridicule me about it. Scope wouldn't understand; he had been sheltered in Tenpony Tower most of is life. I was honestly confused why he wanted to be a ranger. Echagi was different though. I trusted her, but not those around us.

"We'll talk about it. Later. Not around others," I told her. She narrowed her eyes at me, "I promise. Before we leave. We'll talk." She nodded at that and leaned back. She pounded on the wall a few times to signal to Brush Fire to get going. Brush lifted us off and moved as fast as she could. The six hour trot from New Apploosa to Camp Dry Sands would be cut down to a few minuets with the sky chariot. There was nothing much to do but wait until we landed.

We all sat around a table in the command tent at Camp Dry Sands. Our focus was on Captain Steel Horseshoe. He was going to be the one to brief us on our mission. He was a former Steel Ranger, had a light gray coat, dark blue mane, and slightly lighter blue eyes. Along with the standard NCR trooper armor, he wore a short camouflaged cape over his right foreleg, and a green beret. He stood about a head and a half taller than me and had a large muscular frame. He was defiantly intimidating and had a scowl that could make your blood run cold in he looks at you with it.

"Echagi, you and your squad are going to be sent to the Commonwealth after a wing of Follower aclicors. The Followers are hoping to make contact with a local organization that are trying to improve living conditions in the area. Reports on the Commonwealth are vague at best, so your team will be going in blind. We know next to nothing about the area. Your primary objectives are as follows; protect the alicorns, ally yourselves with the Minutemares, and make the Commonwealth a better place," that seemed simple enough. Making the wasteland less of a shit hole was my favorite thing to do.

"Your secondary objective is to find out why we can't make contact with the region. Best guess would be to check out the S.P.P tower," that would be more complicated. I could clear out raider bases no problem; but complicated machines and computers? That was out of my league. Scope tinkered on terminals almost as much as he did his sniper rifles. He should be able to figure it out; at least I hoped he could.

"Is there anything you have questions about?" He was met with silence. "Good. Get yourselves to the armory and gear up. After that, you'll be using a Vertabuck to catch up to the alicorns. It will also serve as a means for quick exaction should the need for one arrive. Remember, we don't know what you're facing out there. Prepare for anything. Good luck," he turned and trotted over to some other officers to discuss things that I had no interest in. We all exited the tent and made our way through the maze of other tents and shacks in silence.

"What do you think it's going to be like out there?" Scope asked, trying to make conversation. We had found the shack we were looking for and I opened the door. Auto pushed me out of the doorway and ran into the building. I glared at him from behind my helmet. I pushed the door open and waved the rest of me team through.

"I'm not sure, Scope," Brush Fire responded, "Horseshoe said prepare for anything. He could have sent any ranger squad out to the Commonwealth, but he chose us. I personally think that whatever we decide to bring along would be enough." She patted Scope on the shoulder and took her place in in the small line to see the quartermaster. Auto was already putting on his twin light machine gun battle saddle.

The quartermaster's call of "next!" brought my attention back to the line. Brush Fire had walked up to the old stallion sitting behind a cage. The cage had a small opening to allow him to give the equipment asked for. He was an old unicorn stallion with an orange coat, a greying mane and tail that still had some of its original yellow color, and light blue eyes. He wore simple NCR fatigues. He was walking back with the order that Brush had given him.

"Two 10mm submachine guns, one 9mm pistol, and one custom 12-guage riot shotgun; 200 rounds for each. Look after 'em this time, yeah? I just fixed 'em from last time; three weeks of work. I don't know why you neglect weapon maintenance when you have Ranger that can fix even your guns," Brush Fire was notorious for using her guns as clubs when she runs out of ammo, which was a lot. This lead to a lot of work for me and the gunsmiths. After taking he guns, she walked over to Auto and began shrugging into her battle saddle.

"Next! Well, if it ain't Dirt Mound. Still got your sniper I see. Yeah, yeah, you wanna be called Scope 'cause it 'sounds cooler and fits your occupation' or somethin' like that. Anyhow, you already have your rifle so you still need your back up. One 5.56 markspony carbine comin' up," he left the counter to find the gun while Scope grumbled about name choices. The quartermaster returned shortly with the carbine and ammo. "Same as Brush, 200 rounds each. You come back safe now, nephew. Next!" Scope thanked his uncle and walked over to the others.

"Echagi... Just your pistol huh? You never ask for anything else, even after all these years. I like consistency. Be right back, " he walked away from the counter over to a pistol rack and grabbed the only zebra made weapon in the armory. "'Ere ya go. Since ya hardly rely on it, I'll only give ya 130 rounds. Good luck out there. Next!" Echagi placed her pistol in her foreleg holster and left the line. It was my turn.

"How ya doin', old timer?" I say as I approach. He and Dust used to be drinking buddies. Dust dragged me along almost everywhere with him when I trained under him; especially the bars and taverns. I had gotten to know a lot of Dust's friends, including Muddy Puddle. Muddy used to be a trooper and was a childhood friend of Dust. He was forced to retire out of combat due to old age but insisted that he still serve the NCR; so they made him a quartermaster.

"Well, the silent one speaks! You in a good mood or a bad one? Bah, you ain't gonna tell me anyhow. Ya already have yer Sequoia and ammo fer it; but what's that on yer back, now?" Muddy asked as he noticed Dad's rifle.

"Gift from Dad; uses .308 ammo. Some AP and explosive rounds if you got them. And, of course, my lever action," I told him. His eyes widened at the mention of my father. He was one of the few that knew about my family issues, so he said nothing more on the matter and left the counter to collect my guns and ammo.

"One trail carbine, one .45 pistol; 200 rounds for each plus the .308 rounds for the rifle. I need payment for the specialty ammo, but I didn't have much; only five explosive and 15 armor piercing for 230 caps," shit, that's expensive. I'm honestly surprised that Muddy had any specialty ammo at all. I wasn't happy about the price, but I doubted I'd get the chance for ammo like this in a long time. I counted out the caps and floated the over to Muddy with my magic.

Pocketing the ammo and putting the guns in their holsters, I turned to where my team was only to find Echagi waiting there. "I told them to get the Vertibuck started and ready for take off. While they do that, we talk," she said with enough sternness that showed I had no choice in the matter. I nod and follow her out of the armory shack. She led me to a more secluded area of the base and turned to me. "Well, talk."

I sighed. There was no way to avoid this, so I might as well comply, "After years of fighting with my father about a lot of things, we finally decide to talk things out and make amends. But I have to go to the Commonwealth; a secluded region that we know nothing about for an unknown amount of time. My dad is stubborn. For him to make the first move to making things right between us took a lot of thinking, reflecting, forgiving, and pride swallowing. And I had to blow him off because the NCR are upset that the Followers of the Apocalypse had the balls to head out that way first," I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, " I'm not happy. I want to stay and make my family whole again.

"Not to mention that few that know about my ties to the Wolf Pack want to put a bullet in my head. The only ones that don't want me dead when they found was my family and you. The NCR doesn't trust me. After years of loyalty and sacrifice, they're waiting for the one slip up, that one mistake, this one reason for them to truly believe that I'd be a threat so they can get rid of me and dump my body in a ditch to be eaten by any hungry wasteland creature that comes across it!" I voice raised as I ranted, eventually ending in a scream. Echagi placed a hoof on my shoulder.

"You know that's not the case. You are to valuable to the NCR to just be thrown away because of suspicion. The good things you've done for everyone in the wasteland outweighs the doubts. You are a good pony, Ranger. There is no possible way the NCR would do something like that. You know deep down that you're just overthinking a lot of things. Will you be OK? I wished I knew about you internal struggles before deployment. We clould have found a repla-"

"NO! No, I'll be fine," I quickly cut her off, "I have a lot on my mind, sure; but I can do this. You're right, I'm just over thinking. I'm not one to let my thoughts weigh on my mind. I'll be OK. The others are waiting for us. We're behind anyway," I say and begin trotting toward the Vertibuck. Echagi Wanted to say more, but she knew what I said was true. We were late enough as it is. We had to go.

Brush Fire had the propellers spinning and ready to take off. I jumped in the open door and took a seat. Echagi entered shortly after me, "Alright, Brush, Let's get going."

Brush nodded and the Vertibuck began to lift off the ground. We'd be able to catch up to the alicorns in now time with this thing. The mission had begone.

Author's Note

Huge thanks to Kkat for creating Fallout Equestria and Crazyperson for allowing me to create a spin off story based in Commonwealth. This one came out a little later than I would of liked because of Destiny 2, but I'll try getting chapters done quicker.

Chater 3

Chapter 3 - Arrival

The ride was uneventful. A few raiders decided to shoot the big metal flying thing, but the armor plating was enough to shrug off the few shots that connected. We were moving as fast as the vertibuck could move. Our mission was to protect and assist Follower operations and establish NCR presence in the Commonwealth; we couldn't do that if we weren't in the Commonwealth. Alicorns didn't need protection, yet we were sent here for that reason anyway.

To get my mind of my family, I thought about my mission and orders. They seemed strange now that I analyzed them. The NCR didn't need to expand; they NCR practically owned the wasteland. Their territory was vast, as was their allies. President Grimfeathers had known the leader of the Followers, Velvet Remedy, from before the creation of the NCR; and we have some troopers who guard and many NCR ponies seek Followers out if they need aid. We even sent a few ambassadors to the larger groups in Hoofington. We had plenty of allies and supplies, so why did we need to go all the way out here; and why not scout the area before sending in the troops?

The plan was less logical and more ideal. "Go and establish NCR presence." What if we weren't needed or wanted? I could understand the Followers heading out that way just to offer their medical care, but sending rangers to establish a presence? Rangers were the best the NCR military had to offer; why send elite troops for hearts and minds? Troopers and ambassadors would be more useful for a mission like this. Something out there made the NCR want to send rangers. I was almost afraid to find out what it is.

"Hey, boss! I can see the Commonwealth now," Brush called from the cockpit. Echagi frowned at the nickname Brush insisted on calling her but got up to look out the cockpit windshield. We were flying above a forest, following old and rusted electrical towers. The trees were thin and leafless; looked like warped, mutated arms reaching up to drag our vertibuck out of the sky. I'd imagine that the mountains that dotted the landscape made travel in and out of the Commonwealth difficult; not to mention the hungry creatures living in those woods that want to eat the travelers that try. The storm had darkened the sky to the point of being mistaken as night.

The vertibuck shuddered in flight and made us all in the back stumble followed by a flash of lightning and a deafening boom of thunder. Brush called back with an uneasy chuckle, "Sorry, guys. Storm blowing in. Looks nasty. We should set her down somewhere; better safe than sorry." That was a good idea. The ride had gotten drastically rougher, and the storm only just started.

"There's a field just a the edge of the forest. Land there," Echagi commanded, pointing to the spot indicated. It wouldn't be far at all with the vertibuck, but the storm was getting worse by the second. Lightning struck a tree just outside the window I was looking out of, briefly blinding me. I clenched my eyes shut and turned away from the window.

I shouted to Brush over the sound of the storm, "I think we should try to go lower. That lightning is getting way too close for comf-" lightning struck again, this time hitting the left propeller. We were thrown from our positions by the impact. The vertibuck was spiraling out of control. Brush Fire was doing what she could, but it wasn't enough. Scope had slammed into the door during the spiral and burst it open. Echagi jumped toward him and grabbed at his hoof before he was sucked outside; but she couldn't hold onto him and keep her footing at the same time. I saw them fall out of the vertibuck and preyed they'd be alright. Auto grabbed a parachute from the cockpit and jumped out of the open door; either to look for Echagi and Scope or to save his own skin, I wasn't sure.

"Brush, go! Get out of here," I yelled, stumbling closer to the cockpit. She could get out of this mess.

"What?! Are you crazy? There's no way I'm leaving you in this death trap," she yelled back, still trying to keep the vertibuck under control. The lightning had shorted out everything up here, there was no use. I began to unhook her from the pilot seat. "What are you doing," she struggled in my grasp and I wrapped my hooves around her midsection and lifted her up.

"You can fly, but I'm too much for you to carry. Find me after this thing crashes," I managed to get her in front the open door, "From there, we look for the others and continue with the mis- agh!' The vertibuck' struck something and sent me flying into the opposite side, dropping Brush out the door in the process. I hit the wall head first. My helmet saved me from most damage, but the impact was still jarring; my vision blurred and my ears rang. I thought I could hear Brush screaming, but I couldn't be sure. Everything began to fade to black.

I don't know how much time had passed before I regained consciousness. It was still raining, so it mustn't have been long. I was laying in a small shed propped up against a shelf. My head was still throbbing and everything else hurt. To my left was a tall, rusted machine. I guess Brush moved me here after the vertibuck went down. Where was she now? My guns were laying on the table. Trying to lift them with my magic caused my vision to blur and my splitting headache to worsen. So, no magic. Trying to stand up sent pain up my right hind leg. looking back at it revealed it to be bent at on odd angle.

Great. Concussion, magical burnout, and broken leg. What else could go wrong? I limped to the door and pushed it open. It was still raining but wasn't coming down as hard as before; no lightning either. Opening the door to the shack allowed me to see that I was still in the forest. I could see the electrical towers through the trees. The vertibuck's tail rotor was still stuck at the top. That must have been what knocked me out.

The vertibuck crashed not far from the tower. It looked like there were ponies picking around the wreckage. I could see the spikes and scrap metal used to make their armor. Raiders. I was in no shape to fight, even these few. It would be best to try and get away from here. These raiders had to have been close if they were already at the crash site. It looked like they were just starting to look around, so If I moved quick they wouldn't know I was here at all.

I limped my way around the shack and began following the electrical towers. I caught sight of what looked like lights in the distance before the vertibuck went down. Raiders usually aren't smart enough to understand how lights work, so I'll try there first. I hope there are good ponies living there. There was a small blue tent in front of me and a camp fire farther away under another electrical tower. Judging from the burned meat next to the fire, this was where the raiders came from. Not good. The veritbuck was trashed and their camp wasn't vary far away, not good.

Raiders aren't smart enough to see hoofprints, but the muddy ground and my hobbling trot made my hoof step far more obvious. Getting close to the camp would be literally leaving a trail for them to follow. I changed my direction and went wide to the right; it was rockier and tougher to traverse, but it was safer. I had to stop to wipe the water from the lenses of my mask, it was getting hard to see. Voices behind me made me stop. I could only partially see but the raiders were coming back. Sight or not, it was time to move fast.

I crouched low and moved as fast as I could. The sky was still dark because of the storm and it gave me a natural camouflage as I snaked my way through the trees. The rain on my visor slowly got worse until I could barley see. I didn't risk stopping to clear it; I could end up getting caught by the raiders if I did. I cold make out vague shapes, and used those to follow the electrical towers. I couldn't see the ground under me end before it was too late.

I tucked my legs in to avoid further damage to them as I fell. Unfortunately, my head took the impact... again. I already had trouble focusing because of the knock I took in the vertibuck; now my vision blurred beyond functional. If I didn't have a concussion before, I definitely did now. My ears rang, the rest of my body throbbed from the landing, and my breath was knocked out of me. I coughed and hacked as I attempted to catch my breath. I landed on my back and stared into the sky.

A pony's head filled my eyes, but I couldn't make out any details. I expected the pony to be a raider and shoot me, but they were looking me over instead. My vision focused enough to see him wave at something behind him before I blacked out again.

I opened my eyes slowly as if coming out of a deep sleep. I was laying on a mattress on the floor of a narrow hallway in a crudely built wooden shack; a small blanket covering me. I was really getting sick of the throbbing in my head. I looked around slowly so I didn't make my migraine any worse than it already was. Not that my efforts helped; somepony had banged against the shack I was laying in. Bandages were wrapped around my head and hind leg.

I pulled the blanked over my head and rolled over in a attempt to block out the offending noise and attempted to remember how I got here. My eyes shot open as I recognized the noise. It was a gunshot. Somepony had shot a gun, seemingly right next to me. There was a mare crying and screaming, overshadowed by cruel laughter and shouting. I jumped out of the bed and fell on my face.

Peering out of a gap in the shack's wall, I saw seven raiders were spread out around a farm. A young mare was laying dead and bleeding from a hole in her head. An older mare with a dirty blond mane wearing a green jumpsuit was being held back by a stallion in a flank-length pale trenchcoat; I assumed these were the owners of the farm. The raiders had their guns pointed at the helpless ponies. They look like they were made their guns out of spare parts and wood.

One of the raiders, the leader I guessed, stepped over to the corpse and knelt down, "Ya' see this? This is what happens when you fuckin' try to stand up us! Now your fuckin' bitch daughter has a hole in her head," he lifted the dead mare's head, turned it so it looked at her parents, and pointed to the bullet hole.

"Now, I'm a reasonable guy, so I won't send you to join her. We need somepony to tend to our crops after all. Me and my boys are gonna leave, give you fuckwits some time to prepare tribute, and maybe; this is a big maybe here, maybe I won't kill the rest o' ya'. Sound good? I thought so," he grabbed a small silver necklace around the dead mare's neck in his teeth and yanked it off her neck. "Lesh go," he mumbled around it, turning around and trotting off; his lackeys following him. They were laughing and snarling at the farmers and each other.

A young mare came running from my left and out the door to her family. The mother was holding her dead daughter, crying into her breast. I stood in the doorway, not knowing what else to do. The farmer stallion turned to look at me, tears streaming down his face. I gave him a look of sympathy, turned around, and walked back to the bed I woke up in. They needed time to grieve.

I needed time to recover and plan before I went after those raiders.

Author's Note

Hell of a welcoming party, huh? Thanks to Crazyperson for letting me create this spin off and to Kkat for Fallout Equestria as a whole. Now that we're in the Commonwealth, I'll do my best to keep Fast's stories and Ranger's separate. If you have any tips to give me, feel free to give them.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Getting to work

Upon my return to the bed I woke up in, I found my armor and guns set neatly on boxes in between the bed and wall. Inspection showed nothing was tampered wit or taken. These ponies removed my gear to check me for other wounds, yet didn't use any of the heeling potions I had in the pocked of my duster. They had used everything they had to help me without using any of my supplies.

I checked my leg using basic first aid. It wasn't broken, only sprained and slightly swollen. My head on the other hoof was an entirely different matter. It took way too many hard hits in too short a time. My vision would still blur witch would cause my ears to ring every once in a while. Thankfully, these issues would be fixed with a healing potion.

Attempting to grab a potion from my coat with my magic caused a sharp pain in my horn. Magic was still a no-go. Hopefully the potion would help fix that. Using my hooves to pop the cork off the top, I grabbed the top of the bottle in my mouth and chugged the potion. I felt my nerves tingle as the potion worked. The throbbing in my head subsided and I watched the swelling in my leg go down.

I stood up, without getting dizzy, and put weight on my hind leg. It only gave a slight twinge of pain, but didn't give out. I would have a slight limp for a while at worst. It would be gone by the time the raiders come back. Perfect.

My magic was a different matter; it gave a sizzle and pop before giving out as I tried to lift my body armor. I really didn't need it, but It was a perfect to test my magic. I was disappointed at the result, but I didn't need magic to take out the raiders. It took more groveling and begging than I care to admit, but I eventually got Echagi to teach me how to fight and shoot while standing on my hind legs. The combat stance wasn't one seen often and I could use that to my advantage.

I trotted out of my temporary room and took a moment to look around the house the farmers built. It was entirely built out of wood using the electrical tower as a foundation. A walkway lead to an upper floor to my left, and toward my right was the front door. In the center of the room was a small dining table where the farmer and her other daughter sat, they were holding each other, crying. I placed my hoof on the mother's shoulder and she looked up to me. Her eyes were red and puffy. I knew how she felt.

"You have my condolences, ma'am. I wanted to thank you for helping me," I told her in the softest voice I could manage. She stared at me a long time before slapping my hoof away. Her sorrowful look was replaced with one of anger. I took a step back from her as she stood up.

"I don't want your pity," she shouted, "I don't want your thanks or 'condolences'! I want my daughter back!" She took a step toward me with every shout. I stood my ground and stared into her eyes. Dust told me a longtime ago that the eyes are the gateway to the soul. Her eyes gave everything away; mine revealed nothing.

I sighed and said, "I know." I walked around her and out the door. I stood on the porch for a few seconds looking at the puddle of blood the dead mare left behind. The raiders would come back; there was no doubt about that. I needed to know when. The farmer mare couldn't help me until she calmed down. The stallion on the other hoof would be all too eager. He had the look of somepony who wanted revenge, but knew he couldn't do it himself. All I had to do was offer.

I found him behind the house a few feet away. He was digging a hole to bury his daughter. No pony should go through this alone. Lucky for me, there was another shovel resting against the house. My magic was weak and made my head hurt, but I was determined to help. I owed these ponies. He turned to me at my approach and I nodded in a greeting. We said nothing as we dug.

It was about midday by the time we finished. My magic had gotten gradually stronger as we went along. I wiped the sweat off my brow and jumped out of the hole. It was hardly a pot hole when we started, now it was a proper grave. I turned and stuck my hoof out to help the farmer out of the hole. He took it and fixd me with an odd look.

"Not that I'm not thankful for your help, stranger, but why are you? Looks to me like your injuries have healed, so why stick around? You could just leave," he said. I stuck m shovel i the ground and turned to look at him.

"I'd be worried if you didn't ask, sir. You found me half dead, dragged me back to your home and tried to patch me up. All without knowing if I would shoot you when I woke up. I owe you my life. I intend to repay with several. I hate raiders. The organization I work for sent me out here to help make the the wasteland a better place. What better way to start helping than with the ponies that helped me," he frowned at me. That wasn't a good sign.

"Help? You're limping and you could barely hold that shovel. How are you gonna go after them like this?!" he yelled. He brought up very good points, but I had already thought of this. I didn't like to repeat myself, so I told him to wait until his whole family was hear to hear my plan. He frowned when I said that, but he didn't have much choice in the end. He wanted the rest of his family present when he buried his daughter anyway.

We went back into the house. He needed to get his family for the burial and I needed to collect my gear. The mare and her daughter were holding each other again, but they weren't crying anymore. I nodded to the farmer and went to my gear; I was beginning to feel naked without it. It would be good to be in my gear again; the familiar weight, the comfortable clothing covering every inch of my body. I left the duster off so I could strap on my pistol holsters; my Sequoia was strapped to my side and my .45 on my hind leg. Now that I had those, I put my duster on and strapped my foreleg armor plates. A creaking floor board make me turn around. The farmers' daughter was standing there, looking away with a small blush. Oh shit. How long was she standing there?.

She cleared her throat and said, "We're uh... waiting for you. Dad said he wanted you there too." He did? Well, no need to disappoint, I thought and finished strapping the foreleg plates on. My rifles could wait for now. I walked out of the home to the grave site. The farmer had wrapped his dead daughter in a sheet and placed her in the grave. I nodded to the farmer stallion and grabbed the shovel from where I had left it from before.

After we finished burying the daughter, I stood back and let them mourn. It was sunset by the time they turned away. "I need to talk to all of you. Inside. You should be as comfortable as you can for what you're about to hear," I told them. They wouldn't like it, That I was sure of. Just how much they wouldn't like it remains to be revealed. Each of them took a seat at the dining table.

"I want to thank you all for helping me. Most ponies in the wasteland would have took everything I owned and left me for dead. I want to repay you. But you need to leave," as I suspected there was a cry of outrage from the mother and a worried look from the daughter; but I continued without skipping a beat, "The raiders are going to come back in a day or two for their tribute.

"I don't want them to take any more from you then they already have. I want you to find someplace safe when the shooting starts. They sent seven last time, so this time there should be only about half this time. I want to take them out and then go after any left in their base; but I don't want any of you caught in the crossfire." The mare was angry, as I expected. The daughter looked around nervously. The father looked determined.

"You want us to give up our house? To somepony I barely know?! You wanna burn our crops while your at it?!" the mare yelled. her husband placed a hoof on her shoulder.

"Cotton, calm down. He wants to get rid of the raiders without us in the way," he turned to me, "I won't lie to you, Ranger. We're just farmers; but we aren't going to run away from a fight. Especially one for our own home. We... couldn't stand up to 'em before; But with you now, we could fight back and win." His eyes held a conviction that I hadn't seen in a long time. It was good to see, but not in this situation. I knew that they wouldn't let me handle this on my own.

Oh well. Plan B. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "OK. I know better than to argue this. Just stay low. I can handle them on my own. Provide cover fire if you must. We should have plenty of time to form a plan before they arrive. Try to leave one of them alive so I can get some info out of them. I'll need to know anything you could tell me about the Commonwealth too; cities, factions, places to avoid, places that need the most cleaning up." Good deeds tend to spread. If I start helping ponies, word will get around. It could lead to my squad, if they're alive.

Over the next two days, I spent time getting to know the farmers. Bush Abernathy had been a farmer his entire life. He built his home and managed to grow crops here with his wife, Cotton Abernathy; she would handle any trading when ponies would visit the farm, or when a caravan would come by. They had two daughters together, Melon and Leaf. Melon was the one killed by the raiders and Leaf helped with the farm work. They told me all they knew about the Commonwealth. In return, I told them about the NCR and the rest of the wasteland. It made them slightly uneasy now that they knew I was an elite soldier, but they knew that the NCR and I were on their side.

Once the story telling was over, I went to the roof as a look out. The pathway leading up to a second floor turned out to be a rooftop balcony that I used as a vantage point to watch for the raiders return. The Springfield's scope allowed me to see them before they even hoped to see me. I wondered how long it would take for them to show up. I was getting board and my trigger horn was beginning to itch. If they didn't show up soon, I'd have to go hunting them down. If there was one thing I hated more than failing, it was waiting for my targets to sho- oh wait there they are. Only four? Well, at least it would be easy.

I left my position and walked down the ramp into the house. "Heads up, ponies. They're coming. Remember the plan, up to the roof with you," thankfully, the did as told. Bush locked the door and gave me the key before walking up the ramp. "Good luck, Ranger," Leaf turned to me with a strange look on her face. She was scared and was trying not to let it show. She wasn't doing a very good job, she was visibly shaking and strands of her mane were standing on end. "Don't worry. I've got this," I tell her. Leaf nods but doesn't look convinced.

Peaking through the gaps in the wall, I analyzed my targets. Only two raiders stood out to me. One was an earth pony that had more muscled than anypony really needed. The thick sheet metal that covered his hide was crudely made and left many gaps that could be exploited. It looked uncomfortable and had to weigh a ton. He looked like a walking metal box. He didn't wear a helmet, which seemed strange. There was a sledgehammer on his back that had a equally crude metal box welded onto it. They didn't send this raider when they killed Melon.

The Other raider of interest was an earth pony mare flanked by two unicorns. Unlike her hulking companion that had his armor built around him, she was averaged sized and the armor plating she wore was strapped to her body to protect her vitals but was still made of cobbled together scrap. She also wore thick leather barding and an old Equestrian Army helmet. She had one of those crude rifles slung across her chest ready in case she needed it. I remembered her. She was there for Melon's murder. She would be the one to give me answers. One of her unicorn lackeys had several had glass bottles with rags stuffed into the tops. Molotov cocktails in a dry field and wooden house; I would have to take this one down quick before he destroyed everything the Abernathy's worked for. The other lackey had nothing noteworthy.

"Alright assholes, get out here and give us your shit," The leather clad mare called, "Hurry up, I ain't got all day." She was met with no response. Good. "I know you ain't gone, you woulda' took your brain dead fuckin' brahmin with you if you were." She was annoyed and knew they were still here, not good. I can't believe I forgot about the brahmin!

"We should just burn the place down, Crisp. There are bigger farms that we could raid. Just toast this sad little hut and move on," one of the raider unicorns sneered to the mare he stood next to. One of the bottles floated off the straps on his chest in his orange levitation with a sadistic chuckle. A spark of flame ignited at the base of his horn. I was dealing with a pyromaniac. Wonderful. The lead mare, Crisp I guess her name was, struck her fire obsessed with a backhoof that would make Echagi proud. He was sent flying back a few feet from the blow.

"Ack-ack wants this place bad. You can chose to burn the place down on your own and you face her when she finds out," she shouted in her comrade's face; she was quick to anger, "You really want to get strung up my Ack-ack and that little fuck nugget Nail Board?! I didn't fuckin' think so! Crusher, open the door!"

The oversized stallion grunted and walked to the door. I reared up on my hind hooves and grabbed my lever-action in my fore hooves. I couldn't see through the gaps anymore, but I didn't need to. Come on, you big bastard. Take the bait. I heard the brute try the door handle and turn back to Crisp, "Uh, it's locked, boss," he said. He was an idiot. Perfect.

"Oh, you don't say? Kick the fuckin' door down, stupid," her voice was a shrill shriek that hurt my ears. There was something else to her voice, a weight to it that I couldn't figure out. Something to figure out later. The brute raider was attempting to break the door down. First it was a few simple kick, then full bucks. The shack shuddered and cracked with each powerful blow. I floated the key into the doorknob ready to spring the trap. The brute began to walk back to his friends. He crouched down low and dragged one of his fore hooves through the ground, his breath visible as he snorted, ready to charge. The key in the door turned, unlocking it. My Sequoia floated up to to my head and I kept my magical grasp on the doorknob. My fore hooves gripped the barrel of my rifle tighter, ready to swing.

The brute let out a war cry as he charged; his hooves thundering towards the flimsy wooden door. Almost there. He ducked his head down as he neared the door. I turned the knob; a little closer, you big bastard. I flung the door open as he reached the porch; his head shooting up in surprise. I swung my rifle like a club, the flat side of the stock collided with his muzzle and I felt his skull give way with a sickening crack. His corpse continued into the house and took my rifle with it, but I had my Sequoia. I lined the sights up with the pyro unicorn's head and fired. The sack he wore over his face did nothing to stop the .45-70 round as it traveled through his head and exploded out the back in a glorious display of blood and skull fragments.

The other unicorn let out an anguished cry, likely a sibling or something to the pyro; one .47-70 round later and the only noise left was the echo of the powerful shot. The leader mare looked to her fallen comrades in shock; in the span of a short few seconds her entire crew was wiped out. I walked toward her slowly for dramatic effect. She frantically grabbed her rifle in her teeth but a well placed shot sent it flying out of her grasp. The moldy wood and rusted pipes used to build the weapon couldn't handle the large bullet shot from my Sequoia and broke apart at the impact. She took a step back for every step forward I took. She was afraid. Good.

Her eyes were nothing more the pin-pricks. She turned around and ran. Or she tried to at least; I was after her immediately. It didn't take me long to catch her at all. I jumped and tackled her; we rolled around together before eventually coming to a stop with me on top of her, our eyes meeting. They were filled with terror and I could see myself reflected in them. Her helmet had fallen off during the tumble. I pulled my hoof back and struck her forehead, bouncing her head off the ground and knocking her out. I stood up and slung her across my back. I trotted back to the Abernathy's.

They were upset that she was still alive but settled down after I told them my intentions. I needed things from her that they couldn't tell me. The conversation I am going to have with this mare when she wakes up is going to be long and very unpleasant.

3% xp for next level

Reputation Change!

Abernathy Farm - Liked

--These ponies helped you out of the kindness of their hearts and you decided to return the favor. Taking care of the raiders attacking this small farm and making friend with the owners is a good start in your mission. Taking recent frustrations out on raiders is just a bonus!

Author's Note

First fight scene. Woo! Thanks to Kkat for the creation of Fallout Equestria and to Crazyperson who let me write a story in their world. I really gotta think of more to put here than just thank yous.

Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Brave New World

I dragged the unconscious mare to the water tower not far from the farm and tied her to one of the pipes. I had removed her barding and belongings and noticed some strange things. Her orange fur coat was too clean to be a raider and her cream mane wasn't cut into a spiked mohawk or other styles common to raiders. Her cutie mark was a.. slice of pie? This pony didn't seem like a raider at all. There was something more to this mare. I intended to find out what. She let out a small groan as she came to.

"Good morning. Enjoy your nap?" I spoke to her in my usual gruff monotone. She groaned again and looked up to me, her eyes struggling to focus. "Come on. Wake up. I have some things I need to ask you," she noticed the the bindings around her hooves and began to struggle. It didn't take long for her to realize it was useless to struggle and she looked up to me terrified.

"W-who are you?" she asked. Her reaction wasn't like any other raider I had in this position before. They would be struggling uselessly and swearing at me, telling me they would rip me open and eat my guts while fucking my corpse. Not her though, she was afraid. A normal pony's reaction.

"Already forgot? I'm the pony that killed your crew and knocked you out. Here's how this works; I ask you questions; and if I don't like the answers, I hurt you. Understand? Please be compliant. I don't want to get any blood on my armor." she nodded frantically tears starting to form in her yellow eyes; they weren't sickly or bloodshot like other raiders. "Good. Your crew. Where are they hold up?"

"A-an o-old radar station. Northeast. Y-you can see the radar dish in the d-distance." Way too quick to sell out her friends. I could probably use the radar to try and send word to Manehattan or get a message to my squad.

"How many of your friends are left?" her head shot up.

"Friend?! Those blood thirsty sadistic psychopaths are not my friends," she yelled. Her fear momentarily replaced by anger. Interesting.

I raised my hoof to strike, which caused her to flinch and turn away, "How. Many. Are there?"

"TEN! There are t-ten of them left," she curled up the best she could in her bindings and started sobbing. I watched her silently, observing. This was strange; not the reaction I expected at all.

"What's your story?" I asked her softly. My change in tone caused her to look at me. "You don't seem like the pony who would go raider. There's more to this story," I tell her. She lets out a dry chuckle and looks up at me.

"Why do you care? You're just going to kill me," her voice was heavy with regret, anger, and... sadness? This mare had me intrigued; I had to know her story. Scope said once that everypony had their own story and I'd be surprised if I listened. Not sure a raider captive is the best start, but why the hell not?

"Famous last words?" my sarcastic offer got her to chortle a little, so I made good progress.

"Fine. I suppose somepony ought to know," the color drained from my vision as I focused, "I used to be scavenger. Me and my... best friend were poking around the ruins of Poncard. We were looking for cooking supplies, believe it or not," every detail; the pause, the way her voice brightened at a fond memory, "He found an old cook book about pre-war pastries and we didn't have anywhere near enough caps to buy ingredients from restaurants; if they had them and would sell.

"He figured that we could search the kitchens in the boarded up buildings for anything useful. I'd like to think I'm a pretty damn good cook. Anyway, some raiders headed out to the city to attack the last of the Minuetmares and found us instead. They... k-killed him," her voice dropped with sadness, "Some wanted to kill me too but their leader held them off. Wanted me; wanted somepony to pass her 'grand empire' to. Not sure why she chose some random wastelander. I went along with them so they wouldn't kill me or worse. I had Ack-ack's personal protection and focus. She... did h-horrible things to m-me," that shudder, the emotion was way to raw to be fake, "She picked up Nail Board from the few that survived attacking the Minuetmare. He's the one that came up with the plan to attack the farm and killed that mare."

"Why'd you stick around if you hated them so much?" her answer would save her life. If it wasn't what I was hoping for, I'd put a bullet in her head and move on.

"Because I want them dead," her eyes stared into mine, showing conviction and determination. She gave a momentary pause once she noticed the change in my eyes, but continued, "I want to kill them for everything they did to me. They were watching me too closely for me to make a move. I needed to wait and gain their trust. Endure until they accepted me. Then when they don't expect it, I kill them all; or at least Ack-ack before they take me out."

I see, she's just another victim. "I see," I tell her as color returns to my sight. I turn around and trot away from her back to Abernathy Farm.

"H-hey, wait! You're just going to leave me here?!" I ignore her as she keeps yelling after me. I needed to get some things before venturing out. When I returned she had slumped over in her bindings, crying again. She heard my approach but didn't look up, "You come back to kill me?" I threw her leather barding on the ground where she would see it. She looked up to me in confusion.

"You wanted to kill those raiders right? Here's your chance. You will follow my orders. If I tell you to do something, you do it without question," I started loosening the ropes around her hooves as I spoke, "If you don't, I will kill you. If you try to betray me, I will kill you. Try to run, I will kill you. Understand?" she nods. "Good. Your name?"

"Crispy Crust. My name is Crispy Cru-oof," I finished untying her and she dropped to the ground. I levitated a .10mm pistol I looted from the unicorn raider with all the ammo he had and set them down in front of her leather barding.

"I'm trusting you not to try anything, Miss Crust. Prove to me your story is real. Get your stuff, we're leaving," I turn and started walking in the direction of Poncord. Crispy frantically hurried after me, tripping as she shrugged into her barding as she followed. Bringing her along was a risk, but it was one I was willing to take.

"What happened here?" We missed a war. The street was littered with bodies; many of them were ripped apart. There weren't many things in the wasteland that could rip bodies apart like this. There were only raider bodies, but a Hellhound in the area was still bad news. There were a few ash piles still being blown away in the breeze. One of the buildings had a large whole in the wall. A nearby alleyway was scorched black and I could barley make out the charred remains of a large creature. Whoever managed to take the hellhound out has my respect if they survived.

"From what Nail Board said, this is where the Thundega raiders tried to attack the Minuetmare. He didn't want to talk about it because he got his ass beat and ran like a bitch; but he did mention power armor and a Hellhound. Not sure how everything turned out, he refused to talk about it anymore," Crispy told me. She was good at filling me in on anything that Bush couldn't; she was being surprisingly cooperative despite me shooting at her a few hours ago.

"The Minuetmares? Who are they?" Crispy mentioned them often. Were they a mercenary group of some kind? It was kind of nice to get proper intel.

"You don't know? Aren't you a... nevermind. The Minuetmares were a group of ponies that just wanted to help ponies. It was a good idea, they had my support; but something went wrong. Not sure what happened, but they were mostly wiped out. The last Minuetmare was chased here and I suppose they fought off the raiders. The Thundega raiders won't give up though. Nail Board let it slip more than once that they were after something that the Minuetmares had." Interesting. If these Minuetmares wanted to do good, I'd have to seek them out later.

"Doesn't look like the bodies were searched. Something to come back to," I say. We couldn't spend anymore time, the raiders would begin to wonder what happened to their pals. That would set them on edge and make this tougher than it already was.

Crispy turned to me with a frown, "You're a pretty cold motherfucker, ain't ya? Usually I see you guys being more sadistic, but your just... cold," there was no way she was talking about the NCR. Who did she think I was working for? That was a question for later.

"Enough talk, it's wasting time," I say and walk slightly faster.

"There, see? This is what I'm talking about. You say you want to help, but they you act like this. Ponies would believe you if you were nicer," I really didn't want to have this talk again. Shiana, Recon, Brush Fire, and Echagi have told me this before. "Don't let yourself be too cold" they say. I don't, only to those I don't trust yet. Crispy Crust was a raider until a few minuets ago, I trusted her about as far as I could throw her. Which would be pretty far now that I think about it... huh.

"We'll cut through the forest once we can," Crispy said after a few moments of silence, "We could follow the road, but I get the feeling you'd say it'd take longer. That, and you like going off the beaten path," that was true on both accounts. I nod and gesture to her to lead the way. Crispy sighed and took the lead through the dead woods. "You could be more of a conversationalist, you know," she said behind her shoulder at me. We still had a ways to go, I hoped she wouldn't whine like this the whole way.

"Fine," I sigh, "What are we going to be facing we we get there?" now would be a perfect time for a plan.

"Not what I had in mind, but ok. They have the usual; double barrel shotguns, .10mm pistols, pipe guns, and molotovs. Ack-ack, she's the boss, has a minigun. Not sure where she found it, but she has it and plenty of ammo. Should be two outside; One in the shack on the radar and one in the building. The rest are inside. Oh, and we have pet molerats! That... we uh... strap mines onto and send them out to attack ponies that get too close," she shuddered at that.

Molerats were ugly little mutated rats with no fur, wrinkly skin, and deadly buck teeth. They usually live underground and only come up to attack if somepony gets too close to their den. They burrow through the ground like miniature Hellhounds. Molerats make great stew if cooked the right way. The thought of Shiana's molerat and mutfruit stew made my mouth water and my stomach growl. It also reminded me that I hadn't eaten a proper meal in these past few days. Leaf Abernathy had brought me some fruit and water, but I refused take any significant amount of their food.

"You, uh... hungry, huh? I could cook for you... I-I mean if you w-want me to that is," Crispy said as she blushed. Why was she embarrassed to offer to cook?

"That would be nice, thank you. But not until we take out the raiders. A proper celebration." Crispy seemed to physically brighten at that. She even walked with more of a bounce to her step. It was a good sign, she must have not been a raider long to still be this sane. "We're getting close. Are you ready?" I could see the buildings that Crispy described. Sure enough, I saw a raider leaning against the wall of building attached to the radar dish. Crispy nodded to me and drew her pistol.

I took Springfield off my back and looked down the scope. Now would be a good time to figure out the S.A.T.S. scope. I grabbed the small wire that Shiana showed me and connected it to my helmet. The world around me froze and the scope zoomed in on the raider leaning on the wall. His body was segmented and his head was highlighted next to an 80% chance to hit, The torso showed 95% and the few legs I could see offered 62%. I wanted to wipe these scum out so selected the head. The little spell charge gauge dropped a significant amount when I selected the shot. The more difficult the shot was, the more the spell charge was used up; good to know.

I was only able to select two head shots with the spell I had. I was still a rather poor sniper and didn't quite trust this S.A.T.S. stuff. I wondered if there other targets in my view. As if on cue, the scope panned down to a molerat on the slanted walkway that led to the building the raider was leaning on. It had landmines strapped to its back that were highlighted. I could shoot the mines... It took me no time at all to remove one of the headshots on the raider and queued up two shots on the mines with what remained of the charge. Time to make an entrance. I accepted the shots.

It was some of the worst moments of my life. I have terrible fear of not being in control of my body. Having S.A.T.S. freeze me in place and adjust my aim for me was horrific. I wanted to panic, to scream, to drop the gun and hide, but couldn't. The crosshairs of the scope lined up with the raiders head and I felt myself pull the trigger. The sound of the shot was deafening and I seemed to follow the bullet as it traveled through the forest. Nononono no no NO, put me back! The bullet hit the raider in the eye and painted the wall behind him with the contents of his skull. I was looking through the scope again as it slowly panned down to the molerat. It turned to the source the gunshot, making the mines harder to hit. The second bullet missed, grazing the front leg of the small creature and sending it sprawling.

The land mine was now in prefect view and the scope followed the molerat and lined up with one of the mines. Stop! Give me back my body! Control returned to me as if the spell heard my plea. My legs gave out from under me and Springfield dropped out of my levitation. One of the raiders started shooting at us and Crispy dragged me behind a tree for cover.

My breathing was out of control, my heart pounded in my chest and I could hear the beat in my ears. I couldn't focus. The branding on my neck throbbed in tune with my pounding heart. Crispy was patting me down and looking me over for any wounds; trying to ask if I was OK but she was drowned out. She had the right idea but was looking in the wrong place; this damage wasn't physical.

I took a few deep breaths to calm my self and placed my hoof on her shoulder. I looked up to her and she helped me up. "Oh, hey! You OK? You like, completely broke down there. What happened?" She dusted me off and look into my visor.

"Something triggered a bad memory. I'll be fine in a moment. What's the situation?" from the look on her face, she didn't trust me.

"Only one of them know we're here. He doesn't know where we are though," she peeked around the tree, "I think we can take him out before he realizes what happens."

"A good plan, but a little basic," she turned to glare at me, "Let us expand. Here's what I think we should do.

Two gunshots were heard in the direction the raider was shooting. They weren't the loud, heavy rounds rounds from before; they were small and one right after the other. The raider kept shooting where he saw the muzzle flashes. A shout stopped him, "Stop fuckin' wastin' ammo, you fuckin' dumbass," a mare shouted. The raider knew this mare.

"Oh shit, Crispy! Where the others? Did you get the tribute?" the raider asked as Crispy limped up the hill with Springfield on her back. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Those fuckers hired a mercenary. He killed Crusher and the Abernathys killed Cinders. Embers threw a molotov at the place and burned it down before he got shot. Took me a while, but I limped back here to find some fucker snipin' you idiots and you shootin' as many shots as we got. You wanna tell Ack-ack that you wasted all your ammo?" Crispy started yelling at the raider. slipped back into her harsh attitude with no problem.

"Alright, chill the fuck out. You kill the fucker that was shootin' at us?" Were raiders usually this dumb?

"No, I just took his gun and walked up here. Of course I fucking killed him you stupid piece of shit," Crispy shouted. She was laying on a little thick.

"Goddesses, you're more of a bitch than usual. Your time of the month or something?" Really? Crispy, can I kill this guy already?

"No, I'm just stalling until my new friend gets behind you and kills you," Crispy said with a smirk.

The raider got halfway around before I wrapped my forelegs around his neck and used his momentum to flip him over my back and slam him to the ground. A quick twist and his neck snaps like a twig. I stand up and brush some dirt of my duster. "Holy shit, that was so cool! Where did you learn how to do that?! Can you teach me?" Crispy was in my face with a barrage of questions.

I gently push her back, "Standard hoof-to-hoof combat training I went through when I enlisted. Maybe I'll teach you a thing or two, if you have the patience for it," the smile on her face was so bright, "Later though. We have other things on our to-do list," her smile drooped and I felt terrible.

A beeping drew my attention to the walkway. The molerat with the mines was hobbling our way making pained hisses and snarls. From the look of it, the bullet must have grazed its foreleg and went through the hindleg. I felt bad for the poor creature and drew my .45 pistol to end it's misery. From what the Abernathys told me, .45 and .44 rounds were rather common out here, but the .45-70 rounds that my Sequoia needed were unheard of; best to save those for when I need them. I was about to pull the trigger when Crispy smacked the gun away and ran to the molerat.

"Crispy, what wa- hey, stop!" I was expecting an explosion and chunks of mare raining everywhere. What I got was Crispy scooping the molerat up in hooves and throwing the mines away. Um... What?

"Cuddles! What happened to you?! Did Ack-ack put those on you? Oh, I am going to skin her alive. And your legs! Who did this to your legs?!" Oh, this was her pet. I shot her pet.

Fuck.

"Uh, that was me," she whirled on me with fury in her eyes, "Sorry. Here," I floated a healing potion from my coat and pulled the cork out of the bottle. I walked over and Crispy snatched it out of of the air and poured half of the potion on the molerat's legs and the other half down it's throat. I had seen ponies do this before with their dogs.

"You trigger happy merc! You almost killed Cuddles! This little moleratty got captured shortly before I did. They threw me in the room they kept the molerats in and this little guy defended me from the ones that wanted to rip my throat open. In turn, I gave him a little spot to hide when the raiders came around," she gave the molerat a pat on the head. They shared a bond formed from a traumatic situation. Many of my friendships were made the same way.

"I see. Glad it's still alive then," I floated my pistol back into it's holster and walk into the building. There was a makeshift armor workbench behind the door and a short hallway led around a corner. There was an overturned desk and ransacked filing cabinet with a Dash inhaler sitting on top. "Shall we?" Crispy followed me through the doorway before turning back to the molerat.

"Stay in the radar building until we come back, Cuddles. You know that thing I always told you about? This gunner is helping me do it," the little creature gave a fer sniffles and a hiss, "I know you want to help, but you can't with your legs all tore up. Let the potion do its work. We'll be back soon, I promise." Crispy gave the molerat a quick hug before shooing it outside.

I opened the door and held it open for Crispy. It lead to a stairway that sharply turned around a corner. "You know the layout of this place. After you," I said as I motioned her through.

"Aw, who knew the gunner could be such a gentlestallion?" she said as she passed. She was calling me "gunner" too often; did it mean something? She was already halfway down the stairs and walking round the corner by the time I moved. I was making too many rookie mistakes. The blows I suffered to my head must have been worse than I thought. Even though I knew this wasn't a good enough excuse, I still told myself that.

The stairway wrapped around a few times before reaching the bottom. Crispy was crouched at the bottom of the stairs next to the wall. In front of her was four little red lazers.

"Ack-ack rigged this up for ponies who wanted to wipe us out; showed us few competent ones how to turn it off and on when we leave. If the lazers didn't scare them off, then they would have to walk through and get zapped by a lightning trap. They scream as they fry and let us know they're here. Then the fun starts," she sneered as if speaking to a pleading victim. Ack-ack wouldn't send Crispy to get the supplies from Abernathy Farm if she wasn't trusted. What worried me was what Crispy had to do to gain this trust; you don't stay sane when doing those kinds of things.

Crispy turned to me and smiled as the lazers deactivated, "Safe to go through now. How we gonna play this; guns blazing or sneak around and take 'em out one by one?" I liked how she planned ahead, but she missed a few options.

"Not quite. You know how to play dead, right? Let's go make you presentable."

"Are you sure about this?" Crispy wined as we walked back down the stairs, "What if they don't buy it? What if I'm not convincing enough What if they can tell all this is fake?" We had returned to the surface to briefly to make it look like she was bleeding to death. It involved cutting open a dead raider and covering Crispy in his blood and stuffing some of his intestines into her barding to make it look like she had been gutted. She was a raider lieutenant, so being covered in blood and guts wasn't a new experience.

I sigh and turn to look at her, "You'll be fine. You got them to trust you so you must be good enough at acting. Make them scared, warn them, 'die,' then all hell breaks loose. Once they're distracted, you pop up and help me out. Got it?" Crispy looked at me for a moment before nodding. She was scared and hesitant; it worried me. Hesitance could lead to death, for both of us.

We reached the end of the stairs and and enter the room beyond. It was ransacked and far less graffiti than I expected. Three filing cabinets with their contents thrown about the room. Only one of them remained up on the right wall. There was a desk opposite the upright cabinet with a working terminal sitting atop it; a wire ran from the terminal to a locked door. These raider must really hate doors, several have been removed from their hinges. There was nothing in the closet, a few ripped apart terminals, boxes of files; a few bottles of clean water was the only thing of use in the small closet. Small windows allowed me to look into the room beyond.

I could only see a single raider leaning over a metal walkway that wrapped around a large, round, metal pillar; likely the base of the radar dish. There were more out of view; I could hear them talking below and what sounded like a dog panting.

"When the fuck is Crisp comin' back with the food. I'm starving," a mare said.

"Me too," a stallion, "If I don't get me somethin' to eat soon, I'm killing her rat and cooking that up." This comment caused laughter of several raiders.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Nail Board, lay off Crispy," a different stallion spoke, "Ack-ack's gonna chop your balls off if she hears you talkin' like that."

"Ah, you're just standing up for her cause you wanna fuck her," the voice now identified as Nail Board sneered. He was the one who killed Melon Abernathy.

I turned to Crispy and placed my hoof on her shoulder, "Showtime. Where do you want to make your grand appearance?"

She thought a moment before speaking, "I'll take the stairs on the right. The hallway to the left will lead to the walkway above them. Gives you a perfect place to shoot them from."

"Alright. Good luck," With those parting words, we went our separate ways. I crouched and moved slowly through the hallway. There was a room ahead that I could hear somepony in. Peaking around the corner revealed it to be a restroom with a raider inside. Crispy's harrowed cry of "Ack-ack" caused the raider to turn around. I reared up on my hind hooves and ran at him. He attempted to draw his gun in his levitation but quick strikes to his throat and horn stopped that. With his windpipe crushed, he couldn't warn his friend; and breaking the tip of his horn off meant no magic. He fell forward and I caught him before he hit the ground; I placed one of my forehooves on his snout and the other on the back of his head and twisted. His neck snapped and he fell dead.

Leaving the room and moving through the hallway, now stood over the raiders on the walkway. I had a decent vantage point, but there was a fusion reactor blocking most of my view. The raiders were gathered around Crispy who was now laying on the ground. They were looking at each other and muttering fearfully. Good. I crept along the walkways until I could get a good view of them all. Once in place, I drew my trail carbine and took aim. Somepony shouted at me as I fired my first shot into a raider mare's skull. They started to scatter as my second round found a new home in a stallion's throat. By the time my third shot was ready, they started shooting back which caused me to seek cover. There was none on the walkway but plenty of filing cabinets and monitoring equipment.

I jumped from the railing and ran through the doorway that Crispy came from. There was a table that one of the raiders had taken cover behind; peaking her head up to see where I had gone rewarded him with a bullet to the head. Six down, four to go.

I was about to move when pain erupted on my hindleg. A look back to see what happened revealed the mongrel hound I had heard earlier with its jaws around my leg. I was in the process of floating my pistol from underneath my duster when a raider ran at me with a tire iron. Five bullets hit her head and a two more made the dog release my leg with a pained yipe. It attempted to snap at me again, but a shot to its head.

"Yer 'elcom," she mumbled around the the mouth grip. I nodded my thanks and pulled out some magic bandages from the medical pocket within my duster. A potion would be more effective, but I didn't want to risk taking off my helmet to drink it. No matter how skilled I was, I could always get killed by a lucky headshot. I wrapped my bleeding leg in the bandages before stepping over the the raider Crispy killed.

We were about to enter the room with the work table when another raider jumped into the doorway with a sawed off double-barreled shotgun clenched tightly in his snarling teeth. The blast of buckshot didn't get through the riot armor I wore but it still knocked the wind out of me and hurt like hell. It made my magic give out and my pistol dropped to the floor. Crispy had started shooting before the second blast was sent her way, throwing off the raider's aim. Most of the pellets struck the wall behind her, but a few found their mark and peppered her hide. She didn't have the benefit of pre-war riot armor and cried out in pain.

The raider retreated as I picked myself off the ground. I helped Crispy to her hooves and floated a healing potion to her in my teal levitation. She took it gladly as I leaned on the wall to catch my breath. There were only three of them left. Crispy wanted vengeance on Ack-ack for all she had done to her and I wanted to have a few with Nail Board before his death. The raider that shot us didn't matter to me; he would die like the others. He stood in the doorway again with his shotgun pointed at me; he must have ducked back to reload. I didn't want to take another shotgun blast so I quickly fired my pistol form its position on the floor at his leg. One of my bullets hit his knee, causing the leg to crumple beneath him. He screamed and swore dropping his shotgun in the process.

Opportunity just knocked on my door and brought me fresh muffins. I grabbed the shotgun in my levitation and and pressed the barrels to his skull. One trigger pull later and the raider didn't have a head anymore. A brief inspection of the weapon revealed glowing orange runes carved into the barrels. When I found Brush Fire, she would love this thing; If I decide to part with it.

There were no more raiders rushing us, so it gave me time to catch my breath. It was still tough to breath, but it was getting easier. Once I was in good enough shape, I gave Crispy the signal to move and we entered the room with the work table. It was nothing special; there were lockers along the walls and shelves with cardboard and wooden boxes with nothing of value in them. An opening that used to be double doors greeted us on our left.

Movement in the corner of my vision caught my attention. Two little red lines were sitting above a compass; one was still and another was darting back and forth, but both were getting larger in size. I honestly forgotten I had E.F.S. With the sound of hoofsteps getting louder, I figured that size equaled proximity; the closer the red mark, the larger it got. Were they coming to face us head on? They were; a mare wearing a leather trench coat with a green button up shirt underneath trotted into view. She had pale blue fur and a blond mane styled two ponytails. Her bloodshot brown eyes were surrounded by dark stains and her cheeks were cut in a way to give her a wide, grotesque grin. A minigun followed her into the doorway wrapped in the same sickly green glow around the mare's horn. This must be Ack-ack.

The minigun started to spin and I ran back to the hallway. Crispy ducked behind the work table as the bullets started to fly. They stopped and the mare spoke, "What the fuck have you done, Crispy?! I gave you everything! A home! Safety! Food! Me! And you throw all of that away for a Gunner?!" she shouted with fury. This mare had been betrayed by somepony she trusted with her life. I could hardly blame her, but that didn't mean I sympathized with her. She was a raider and deserved to be put down like a rabid animal.

"'Gave' me? You took like raiders always do. Took away my happy, life. Took away the pony I loved and forced yourself in his place. This Gunner let me come along to kill you for everything you did to me," Crisp shouted back with equal rage. Ack-ack screamed and fired again. From what I could see, she wasn't trying to kill Crispy, just keep her pinned. The other red mark began moving away. I had an idea.

I ran up the stairs to get back to the walkway I stood on when this gunfight stated. Springfield was floated out next to me and I worked the bolt back and forth to eject the rounds. Once those were out and floated back into my ammo pocket, I exchanged them for three explosive rounds. I worked on enough miniguns to know how to exploit weaknesses. Plus, it would even the playing field for Crispy. I reached my destination and looked down the scope. My breathing was unsteady, the S.A.T.S. still fresh in my mind. I focused on the spinning barrels; they were red hot from continuous fire. They would be weakened by the heat and a perfect target for the explosive .308 round. I pulled the trigger as something slammed into my head. I rolled away from the impact with no way to know what happened below.

A raider wearing scrap metal armor wielding a wooded board with a large quantity of nails stuck through one end stood with me on the walkway. Why do raiders name themselves after their weapons? "You're Nail Board? Where's the locket?" It was so good to see my target was so eager to meet his end.

"You here for the locket? Abernathy hired you? How'd he manage to hire a Gunner with the meager amount of caps he has? Bet he whored out his daughter. And his wife. Once I'm done with you, I'll go pay them another visit; maybe get the same treatment," his cruel laugh echoed through the building. I really wanted to put a bullet in his head and be done with it, but I wanted to beat him to death with my hooves more. "How about this; you and me, one on one. A contract. You Gunners like contracts, right? You manage to beat me and I'll tell you where I have the locket. Deal?" he asked smugly. He was up to something. So was I.

My pistol floated out in my magic and his smug look disappeared. My bullet was supposed to hit his shoulder, but he ducked and fell back behind the radar, "What the fuck? You Gunners never pass up a contract," he shouted.

"Not sure what a Gunner is, but I'm not one of 'em. I work for the NCR and they sent me here to clean up the Commonwealth. That means wiping out raiders that prey upon good ponies that work hard on a farm. So you're going to tell me where you have the locket so I can kill you quick," I started walking forward while keeping an eye on my E.F.S., "Or I'm going to beat it out of you slowly." I stomped on walkway as I walked toward him with my pistol floating next to me. I could hear his terrified breathing; my intimidation tactics worked but he managed to get a hold of himself.

"You think you can take me down? Me?! Fuck you," he shoutes at me, "You're just some high and mighty merc; like that griffon bitch! When I'm done, the rest of the NCR are next!" He lunged from behind his cover and knocked my pistol away with his board and I had to duck to avoid his back swing aimed at my head. He raised the board over his head and I jumped back to avoid being smashed. His board gave him more reach and there was little room to dodge on the narrow walkway. I needed to change things up.

I crouched into a combat stance and I could see Nail Board's body tense up in response. I ran at him and used the armored plate on my foreleg to intercept his swing. It didn't block all the nails from entering my leg, but it was a minor pain that I could ignore. Batting away the board with one hoof, my other hoof slammed into his jaw and sent the board tumbling to the ground below us. I grabbed the safety rail with my hooves and used it to launch myself into him with a harsh kick to the chest. He reared up by slammed his hooves into my chest, sending me skidding back across the walkway until I hit the safety rail.

I was a good fighter, but I couldn't stand up to natural earthpony strength. The color faded from my vision as I began to take in the details. Nail Board's crooked jaw, his stuttering, heavy breathing, the twitch in his eye, even where the nailed board he used as a weapon landed behind me. A cruel smile formed as I made my plan.

I picked myself up and looked at him; he was forcing his dislocated jaw back into place as he glared at me. I tilted my head side to side, making my neck crack and pop. I lifted my hoof and waved him toward me. Raiders hated being taunted and the infuriated look he had was further proof. His nostrils flared and he bared his teeth in a snarl before he charged at me and I ran forward to meet him. He didn't expect me to roll onto my back as he passed and use all four of my hooves to launch him into the air and over the railing right onto his board. The scream he let out as he landed on it was satisfying.

I wasted no time and jumped over the railing after him. My entire weight landed on one of his hindlegs with a sickening crunch. I knew from the books that Littlepip was able to piece together some unique curses, but this raider was giving her a run for her caps with the words he screamed out at the top of his lungs. I got into his field of view and and said one word, "Locket." He focused on me and spit on the lens of my mask. I slammed my hoof into his face.

"Where is the locket?" I asked him again.

"Go fuck yourself," was his reply and he attempted to hit me with his foreleg. I caught the limb with one of my forelegs and raised the other.

"Wrong answer," I say before bringing my foreleg down upon his elbow, breaking his leg and rendering it useless and making him scream in agony. "I'll ask again. Where is the locket?" He didn't answer, the only sounds coming from his mouth were whimpers and groans. I placed my hoof on his chest and pressed down; making the nails on his board go deeper into his back. "Last chance. Where's the locket?"

Nail Board coughed up a mouthful of blood before answering, "I... I don't know. G-gave it to A-ack-ack. Not s-sure what she d-did with it. Just let me go."

I chuckled at him, "Your victims begged for their lives too, didn't they. And you just laughed at them. You shouldn't have told me that," I rolled him over onto his stomach, "I don't need you alive anymore. Your just another raider that I get to put down," I grabbed the board still in his back with my magic and ripped it out of his back. The scream he let out hurt my ears. "Killing raiders with the the weapon they named themselves after is one of my favorite methods of execution." I swung the board at his head. He shouted in pain and started babbling incoherently for me to spare his life. My answer was to hit him with the board again. The first strike cracked his skull and the second left him a twitching, bumbling mess. Before I could dislodge the board from his head for the killing blow, a furious yell caught my attention.

Crispy charged into view from the room we were pinned down in earlier. With Ack-ack lifted onto her shoulders, Crispy slammed Ack-ack into a wall before throwing her to the ground. Both mares were battered and bruised, the result of a brutal brawl that started after the destruction of Ack-ack's minigun. I thought about helping, but this was a personal fight for Crispy; Ack-ack had ruined Crispy's life and she now had the opportunity to get revenge. Did I really want to interrupt that?

I did. Revenge was a terrible quest that only resulted in death, hate, and emptiness. The fight I was watching wasn't between a mare that wanted payback, it was between two raiders. From the stories I heard about Lightbringer and Security, they gave up everything for the concept of "do better." The Rangers were created to make the wasteland better. Last time I checked, revenge was not better.

I drew my Sequoia and leveled it at Ack-ack's head; she had gained the upper hoof and was sitting on Crispy's chest; punching her face. The click the hammer made as I pulled it back made her pause her assault on my new friend and look up to me. She only had a brief second to realize what was going to happen to her before I pulled the trigger; the .45-70 round entered her head right between her eyes. She fell back, off of Crispy, with a large hole in the back of her head.

Crispy slowly rolled herself over and I walked over to her to help her to her hooves. She rounded on me, anger flaring in her green eyes, "Why did you do that?! I had her! I would have gotten my revenge on her and you took that away from me!"

"Calm down, Crispy," I told her. It was a warning I desperately hoped she understood.

"Calm down?! I had my hooves around the neck of the mare that ruined my life and you shot her!"

"Take a moment to think," I snapped back at her, "Think about what you were doing. How you were acting. You said they killed the pony you loved. What would he think if he saw how far you went for revenge? You became a raider for Celestia's sake! What would he think?" My words seemed to bring about a realization. "Revenge only destroys ponies. The ones that seek it and the ones that are victim of it," I remembered the words that Dust told me three days after I became a Ranger. The words I took to heart.

"Ha. You sound like you believe those words. Why did bring me along then? Huh?!" Crispy yelled back. I didn't know why. Dust's wise words were something I lived by. I never went back on them if I could help it. Why I did now... I had no answer. It felt as if something came over me; the thought made me shudder. I couldn't let Crispy know that though.

"To teach you a lesson. To show you how badly you're destroying yourself just to get even," I lectured her, "A wise old pony once told me, 'Don't do something for selfish reasons like greed or vengeance. Do it because it's the right thing to do; so they can't hurt anyone anymore.' What I saw was a fight between two raiders," her anger flared and she cut me off.

"Don't you dare call me that. You were able to see through my act. You gave me the benefit of the doubt and spared me. Gave me the chance and you call me a raider? I thought you believed me...," her anger faded into sorrow.

"I do," I told her, my voice softening, "And I think you didn't want to be a raider. But the things you forced yourself to do to gain their trust... It'll be long and tough; but we can do it. The first step is already complete. If there's anything you need share or get off your chest, don't hesitate."

"I don't think I'm going to share my innermost thoughts with a stallion I know nothing about. How about a name first?" Fair enough.

"That's fair. My name is Ranger. Nice to meet you Crispy"

38% xp for next level

Quest Perk Added!-----------------------

Strength of the Wolf--
--The stress of combat gets to even you sometimes. You can't explain it, but you seem to lose yourself and forget about the promises you make to yourself and others in favor of completing the mission by any means necessary. Once you've gotten a hold of yourself, you're left with blurry vision and a splitting headache.

Companion Perk Added!-----------------------

Wasteland Chef--
--She's a damn good cook! Any food cooked with Crispy Crust in the party will remove radiation damage, heal one extra point of health, and keep you full longer. As a bonus, it tastes better!

Reputation Change!

Satellite Station Raiders - Bringer of Death

--Your job as a Ranger means the world to you. Taking out raiders that prey upon innocent, hard working ponies is part of that job; and your favorite part. The raiders at Satellite Station Octavia were wiped out with nopony left to truly know what happened.

Author's Note

Well, so much for getting these out faster, huh? I got distracted by new video games, and I'm a filthy filthy procrastinator. Anyhow, while proofreading my other chapters, I noticed they were a tad short, so I'll be try to make them longer. This means they might take a while as this poor novice learns how to develop his characters and pace his story. Bare with me folks, and thanks for sticking around! Until next time.