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!