Chapter One: End of the past
Author's Note
Hey everyone, Trgammill here. Just a few quick announcements. First off, I'd really appreciate all and any feedback you can offer, as long as it doesn't evolve to being rude to others in the comment section. I am always looking for ways to improve. 
Second, if anyone is willing to edit or prof-read for this story in the future, just hit me up with a PM.
Hope you enjoy, and I hope to see you next time.
Chapter One: End of the past
Quite.
The silence was almost deafening. Save for a few drops of water echoing through the halls and the faint sound of scurrying legs, there was nothing. The emergency evacuation notice had long since stopped working, leaving the roaches to scurry around the floors and walls in an eerie tranquility. One of said massive insects stopped on the wall, right next to the image plastered onto the wall; The stable-tech logo, the bold, if not faded, number '14' just below it.
The radroach's antenna twitched almost uncontrollably as it scurried to the floor, following it's senses as the soft thudding of boots hitting the hard concrete floor of the Stable, constantly getting closer. Then... it stopped. A squeaky door opening echoed throughout the halls. Curious, the over-sized bug scurried into the room the noise came from.
It never got a chance to see the source of the noise, however. A boot had firmly been slammed onto the radroach's abdomen, it's green slime splattering onto the already unclean floor. The boot, however, clearly did not belong to a pony, but to the single tallest thing the roach had never seen. Other than the most recognizable feature of the creature being bipedal, it wore a flashy blue and yellow jumpsuit.
It's only fur, located on it's head, was short and unkempt, as if the jet black hair hadn't been taken care of for the past one hundred eighty years. The flickering lights, just barely, lit his figure up, revealing the facial features of the man; most notably, the fish out of water expression etched on his face. The man stepped over the corpse -and it's gooey insides now all over the floor-, and continued wandering.
Now, the man wasn’t wandering aimlessly, either. He knew what he was looking for: The Stable’s security room. That single room should contain several things he needed, weapons and ammo, door controls and keys, and something to wear other than the god-awful jumpsuit he received upon entrance to the stable, supposedly to help protect him from freezer burn in the cryopod, or some other bullshit reason.
Then, he found it. The sign above the door easily told what the contents of the door was. Breaking into a jog, the human rushed up to the door. Much like the others, the door didn’t open for him. This is because Stable doors are not automated, and worked on the push of a button. Looking to said button labeled ‘open’, he found yet another obstacle.
The flashing red word on the small screen above the button read ‘locked’. This meant he had two options. Find the key to the room and hope that it’s still here even, several of the terminals he encountered did have a message; The Stable had been evacuated. It wouldn’t surprise him if a Stable Security officer locked the door and left with the keys. That left him with one option: Pick the lock.
Thankful for both the utility belt he picked up and the bobby pins he found in the locker cabinet, he looked for something that he could use to help turn the lock. There. He reached out for the tool box just next to the door and opened it.
Moving a few items in the steel box around, he found what what he was looking for; a flat headed screwdriver. Taking the tool out and setting it on the ground, he opened the small bobby pin box, removing just one and bending it to make it nearly flat before inserting the pin into the lock. Picking up the screwdriver he also fit the tip of it in. Making careful, almost practiced movements with his fingers, the lock finally gave in.
Then, there was a noise. A thump on the other side of the security door caused the human to move back a bit. The snarls of something feral from the inside prompted him to grab the first thing his hand landed on in the toolbox; a large pipe wrench.
The man breathed out slowly, adjusting his grip on his make-do weapon. He hovered his hand over the button that would let him in… and whatever was in there, out. He hesitated.
“Dammit, Jake, get a grip. You fought in the war, for christ’s sake.” The human spoke, a slight hint of anger towards himself. He knew there was nobody, or really anything besides what is behind that door, to listen. He didn’t mind, either. Soon enough he’ll be out of the Stable and back into Equestria that lies above, so why not berate himself?
In one, decisive motion, he slapped the button, resulting in the door opening. What was behind the door, was terrifying. Jake had fought alongside the ponies before the bombs fell, so being face to face with the rotten, shriveled up, yet still living pony was quite uncomfortable.
It wore what appeared to have been a Stable security uniform, an ID card dangling from it’s lanyard. The creature in front of him looked nothing like the mare on the photo. It looked like it hadn’t eaten or drank anything in years. It almost looked like a zombie of some kind.
It charged. The sudden movement startled Jake as training kicked in full force. He reared the wrench back and swung, earning a sickening crack as the tool slammed against it’s head. The force alone sent the former pony to the ground, blood falling through the hole produced in the temple by a shard of the creature’s skull.
The human watched, assessing the status of the threat. It wasn’t moving, not even writhing in pain. It was dead, a pool of crimson forming underneath the corpse. Slowly, he crouched down, and examined. It was, with no doubt, deceased.
While the man could have just left the corpse there, he knew that he should at least show some respect for the pony it once had been. Slowly running his hand down it’s face, he closed the long clouded, lifeless eyes before taking the identity card from the apparent mare’s vest.
“Secure Light;” Jake read aloud. “What happened in this Stable?” Deciding there is no point on staying, he walked into the security station.
There, on the wall, was one of the things he was looking for; the Stable’s all-access key. The man took it, taking note of the door named ‘Armory’. It just so happens that he had acquired the keys, too…
Maroon is in a bit of a pickle.
She had been separated from her caravan just a little bit ago. How would she, let alone her family, know raiders were holed up in the ruins this close New Appleloosa?
Sure, raiders are a common issue for all caravans, but she wasn’t the best with a weapon. No, she was best at fixing up injuries; after all, she was the group’s doctor.
This is not to say she is useless in a firefight, however. But against that many raiders? On her own? She wouldn’t stand a chance. So, she was on the run, dipping in and out of alleys, taking the occasional pot-shot with her 9mm as she went.
Ducking into the a hatch that the mare had almost missed, she covered her mouth with a hoof, trying keep her heavy breathing down. Her horn surrounded by an amber glow, her pistol levitated mere inches from her face as witnessed the silhouettes rush past the slight crack left by the closed doors.
After a few moments, Maroon let out the breath she hadn’t even known she had been holding, panting to regain her breath. Slowly, she turned her head, and let out a gasp at what she saw. About thirty or so yards away, was a massive, gear shaped door; the number in the center reading ‘14’. She had just stumbled upon a sealed Stable...
Jake had hit the jackpot. Not only had he found the clothes he had worn when the Stable sealed just over one hundred and eighty years ago, his Equestrian first infantry uniform; one of, if not the most prized possessions of his, but also a few other ‘goodies’.
The human hefted the familiar weight of a weapon he hadn’t used since his last tour for the Equestrian Army. Most civilians simply called it the ‘Combat Rifle’, but it was really named the R91. A smile that had played on his face vanished when the charging mechanism refused to budge. Removing the pins that held the upper and lower receiver together quickly revealed the issue, but still made things complicated.
The bolt and bolt carrier was rusted beyond repair, he’d need to replace the carrier group all together. Thankfully, that shouldn't be too much of a problem. Hell, he could fix that right here in the Stable. Besides, while there was only one of the exact model he needed -the one he was holding-, there was still more than a few R91A1's.
The only difference there was at all between the two is the A1 variant was designed so that pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns could use it, while the standard could only be used by unicorns and griffons. The biggest bonus, however, was that the both used the same feeding system; the same bolt carrier.
Upon removing the upper receiver, he noticed something. Something almost out of place. Slowly, Jake reached for the wrist-mounted computer peeking from the locker...
Fallout: Equestria
Tales of service
Chapter one: End of the past
For maroon, nothing scared her more than the Stable door opening; and not because the door opened. The noise it had generated surly would have let the raiders know where she and anypony still in that Stable was. But she couldn't panic, she couldn't afford to. Just as the Stable door rolled open towards the side, she could hear words that made her blood run cold.
"Found ya', bitch!" Taking a brief look over her shoulder confirmed her fears. The majority of the group she had been running from just fifteen minutes ago were just going down the stairs. They never left a walking pace; after all, they had her cornered with nowhere to run, and they knew that she knew it. Their minds swarmed with ideas on what they would do to her.
With only one why for her to go, Maroon ran into the Stable. "CLOSE IT CLOSE IT CLOSE IT CLOSE IT!" She shouted at what she had assumed would be a pony on the door controls. Maroons heart nearly faltered to a stop when she saw the creature giving her a confused look, despite her rather young age.
The trance on the two very different species was abruptly ended with the sound of a gunshot, the bullet landing just at her hooves. The human sprung into action, pulling the rifle slung across his back and vaulting over the guard rail, the safety being turned off with an audible click as the man and the raiders faced off.
Maroon, while shaken, wasn't an idiot. She herself had bolted to the nearest thing she could use as cover, some old sandbag wall. Normally, this would strike her as odd, but she honestly couldn't care at the moment. She dared not to look when bullets started flying.
Then, it was quite. Maroon heard the tell-tale click of a bolt being worked, though it sounded it was only pulled back without being released. Deep in her heart, she knew she was going to die as she listened as a weapon was being reloaded. She closed her eyes, waiting for what she knew was going to happen. But it never did.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" The young mare slowly opened her eyes. The creature that had scared her more than she would have liked to admit was right in front of her, squatting down as it set it's rifle down besides it. "Are you okay?"
Jake watched as the mare scrambled to comprehend what was going on. He couldn't blame her really, one hundred and eighty-five years would defiantly cause ponies to forget that Equestria ever had a human.
"I... uh... I'm fine?" She stammered, undoubtedly shaken up from all of what had just occured. "W-what the fuck are you?"
"I'm Corporal Jakob Riley, First Infantry, Equestrian Army. I'm human, the only to ever come to Equestria."
To be continued...
Chapter Three: Camping in the Wastes
Fallout: Equestria
Tales of Service
Chapter three: Camping in the Wastes
There were voices. Concern, trust, skepticism and distrust were feelings that the group behind Jake brought up. He couldn't blame them; His story didn't sound truthful, despite it being the truth. But honestly, he couldn't change it if they didn't trust him. Just as long as nopony else gets hurt while he's with them, he didn't completely fail.
He sat alone, outside the ring of wagons and carts the traders had set up around a fire. Inside, he truly wished he was closer to the fire; during the day the wasteland was cold, but at night? It was much colder without the little bit of light the ever so ominous clouds let through. Do the clouds ever move? Probably not; He and his platoon heard very quickly that Cloudsdale was one of, if not the, first cities hit by Balefire on that fateful day. The weather factory was most likely long gone, so the possibility for changing weather, aside from rain, was minimal. Are there Pegasi up there? He didn't seem to see a reason for there not to be; for all he knows there could be a safe-haven up there.
Jake lifted his head up; he heard something. Something behind him; not the chatter of the group of civies, but somepony approaching him. Jake placed his hand on his PipBuck, the light clicking on before turning to see his visitor. By no means has Jake had experience with one during the war; or even for much after he left Stable 14. The mare was caught by surprise by the sudden light, either that or by the PipBuck itself; Jake had mostly kept it under his uniform's sleeve. Jake lowered his guard upon realizing Maroon has the source of the noise. "You need something, miss?"
Maroon just shook her head. "I should ask you that. I realize that most of the others don't see it, but we owe you." She paused, half expecting him to interject like he'd done with her father. When he didn't, she went on. "I said I'd help you if you helped me. Well, you did, even if I had no expectation of you doing so. Come on, you're getting out of the cold." Jake could tell in her voice that this was no request; it was an order. Typically, military personnel don't take orders from civies, but he couldn't deny that he was shivering from the cold. He made a mental note to find or make a jacket for him to use, most likely the latter option. He opened his mouth to protest, but the mare's expression shot it down before he could find words to use, kinda like how his CO used to do. That mare was impossible to argue with.
Sighing at the very clear lack of room for argument, Jake rose to his feet and approached the mare. He actually had to try just to prevent a smirk from crawling up his face as she had to look up at him. While the young mare wasn’t that large -possibly not even fully grown-, the only two ponies Jake had ever met that were eye-level with him were the royal sisters. The rest, even Mac before he ended up KIA, rarely went past his belt line.
Several conversations stopped as the human sat down next to the fire, replaced by some ponies glancing at eachother, others nodding their welcome. The group really was torn on if they really want him; those who do understand that if he hadn’t agreed to Maroon’s terms, they’d all be dead and were thankful for the help. Others were grateful, but didn’t believe his motives, past or others of the sort. To them, he could have just repealed the raider attack just to put them into debt so he can up out of the blue demand something of them. The rest, didn’t trust him in the slightest. But all the same, they couldn’t just defy Nash’s wishes.
“Hey, Jay-cob, was it?” One of the guards spoke up, testing the foreign name slowly, hoping he got it right. With a nod of confirmation, the stallion continued. “You’ve ever been to New Appleloosa before?” His question was greeted by a soft laugh. It actually made sense to name a town after a old, pre-war town. Though Jake was unsure of its location -or if the town was the same as the one he remembered-, the mention of the town did bring a few fond memories, namely before the war started.
“Depends on where it is. If it’s in the ruins of an old town, then yeah.” He finally replied, his voice clearly displaying the nostalgia. “Shit, I thought I was actually going to die that hangover was so bad.” The added fact elicited quite a few genuine laughs from the group, including the man’s.
“Heh, do yourself a favor and don’t try to get that hammered in Old Appleloosa. Better yet, don’t go to that place.” The guard of whom had brought up the topic shifted his tone from joking to dead serious over the course of two sentences. He continued before Jake could even ask. “Unless you’re fine with the slavers taking you. New Appleloosa is north of that Slaver-cesspool."
The group looked at the man as he processed what he heard. Slavers? Was there slavery now? That idea made more sense than he ever thought -or hoped- it would. Was this just another day-to-day threat now? Being a slave? The idea sickened him. He had chosen to come to Equestria and abandoned Earth -and his own race- just in seek of the happier life he briefly got to have before the war started; the life he was promised in his dreams. "And not a single pony, griffon or whatever else there still is even bothered to try to stop them?" The looks he received was all that was needed for him to get the message; pre-war or even war-time values of law was irrelevant. Jake let out an agitated sigh. "Jesus, the world really did fall apart in the time I was in that ice-box."
Whispers broke out among the trading company. The human that had saved their lives, was so clueless on the world around him. Several ponies couldn’t help but imagine what would happen to him should he not learn how life is fast, he wouldn’t be around for a year. Jake took note of the facial expressions, yet one was more prominent among them: Worry. Whether for their lives or his, he couldn’t say. All voices stopped as a mare cleared her throat, and all gazes went to Maroon, who in turn gestured to her father.
“Alright, youngins. Here’s what’s going to happen tomorrow; We’re going to arrive at New Appleloosa. And we’ll be getting our new friend here a copy of that survival guide, while we’re there.” Jake pondered Nash’s words. A survival guide? He hoped that they weren’t old, scavenged copies of the Equestrian Army survival guide, he knew all the important bits from that. If it was, he’d have to skip the guide, no point paying for information he already knew. He proceeded to keep to his thoughts while the boss talked about his trade-plan. Jake knew one thing for certain, this world would never be the same.
Maroon shuffled in her sleeping bag again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t sleep knowing that the stallion that had kept her and her father safe for almost a week died in her hooves. Could she have prevented it if she’d just stayed with them? Of course not, at least that’s what she keeps being told. By herself, and the others in the group. Did she really save more lives by bringing the almost two century old soldier to them? Did the human even wantto be dragged into this?
She turned over, looking at where Maroon thought she’d see the sleeping man. Only he wasn’t asleep. He was sitting up on the sleeping bag that he was offered, despite being several sizes too small for him. Jakob was still staring at the smoldering embers that remained of the fire, lost in the deep pits of his own mind.
Maroon just watched, her eyes shifting. Either this man had no intentions to sleep, or he was in the same boat as her; his conscience keeping him awake. He said nothing, but he did glance at her every so often. Was he mad at her? Maroon began to worry before he waved her over. After swallowing the lump she swore she felt in her throat, she climbed out of the sleeping bag and slowly made her way to him.
“Can’t sleep, miss?” Jake asked in a hushed tone. Maroon only nodded her reply, her voice having left her at mach five. She heard him sigh. “Me neither. Even if Shell was a merc or something, I feel like I should have been faster. If I was… maybe he’d be here.” Maroon took a silent note. As a soldier, he must have seen civilians die. At least, she thought he had. But she felt he should know what Shell was before he bit the dust.
“Raider.” She spoke up. Maroon had seen confusion on his face in the Stable, but now she saw it up close. His eyebrow was raised high enough to be hidden by his hair, something else she hadn’t seen that close up before. “Shell was an ex-raider. My dad had found him in a bar a week back, figured he’d be up for a job that entitled to being to opposite of a raider, y’know? Was a bitch getting him off the rage addiction, though.” Jake nodded slowly, trying to hide his thoughts about it, but Maroon could read his face like an open book. He felt even worse about it.
Maroon felt the sudden urge to change the subject. She had no idea why she should. Learn about how he thinks? That reason made a lot of sense; if she knew how he functions, the better he can be understood. She came up with a question, more based off of one her own resentments than his time in the war. After all, Jakob must have lost a lot, maybe all of his friends because of the Balefire. “Jakob,” She started, surprisingly nailing the name. “Do you hate the Zebras? I mean, you fought them and it’s their fault this wasteland exist.” His reply, however, couldn’t be more unexpected.
“No.” He stated, his brown eyes barely visible with the very little bit of light the dying embers emitted as he looked her up and down. Maroon could tell that her face must have been contorted in shock at the response. “I don’t hate them. Yeah, I’ve lost friends you can only make by fighting alongside each other. Yes, most soldiers wanted them to suffer after what happened at Littlehorn and Shattered Hoof. Yes… they took everything I had known away, but I can’t blame them for everything. I’ve done it too many times, had my sights lined up with young zebra soldier -no older then seventeen- and wondered if I should have pulled the trigger. If that kid even wanted to serve, whose family would never see him again. Yet I did it. There is no good guys or bad guys in the battlefield.”
Maroon was baffled. The concept of a soldier who didn't think zebras were evil? She might as well believe there is a entire planet of intelligent creatures out there. Yet here it was, living proof there was. "I... What?" Should she bring up her negative feelings for the zebras? No, she figured that'd make him mad, if he wasn't already. Then again, he did mention that a lot of his fellow soldiers hated them, so maybe he wouldn't hate her? She was yet again baffled when the human picked her opinion up from looking at her face.
"I can't say I blame you for disagreement. You have the right to be entitled to your own opinion, but... Be careful with that topic. It's quite sensitive still." Jake sighed and rubbed his face. Maroon had noticed the claw-like appendages on his paws -if that's what they are called for his case-, but not in this detail. What she assumed to have been bony, if not blunt claws actually were mostly flesh. Not only that, but they were exposed to the open air; the rest of his hand covered by almost leathery brown gloves, with holes for the fingers. "I... I just want things to go back to how they were..." Maroon was so caught up in starring she almost failed to notice his muttering. Her ears folded when it clicked in place with her mind.
The world must have seemed like an inescapable nightmare, one he'd have to live for the rest of his life.
Author's Note
Alright. That took longer than I had expected.
Fun fact: I had named the owner of the caravan after a Fallout Character. Johnson Nash (Fallout: New Vegas) to be specific. I just thought that was interesting.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and that I'll see you when the next chapter comes up. Take care, and keep fighting the good fight.
