Chapter 4: That Ain't Right

Passage taken from “The museum of the present,” Lucky 38 MuseumThe Desert Rangers are an ancient order of protectors who operated throughout southern Nevada and Arizona since the end of the Great War, safeguarding the survivors of the War from raiders and preserving old world knowledge of warfare, medicine, and survival. In the mid-23rd century, they held the line against Caesar's Legion for over twenty years, albeit with significant difficulty and heavy losses. In 2271, the Desert Rangers were close to breaking, and likely would have crumbled within months if the NCR had not arrived in the Mojave. In order to protect Nevada from the horrors of the Legion, the Desert Rangers signed the Ranger Unification Treaty on October 7th, 2271. As a result, they were absorbed into the NCR Rangers in exchange for NCR's protection of Hoover Dam and Nevada from Caesar's Legion.

If you traveled from NCR territory to the Mojave before the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, you’d’ve seen the giant statue overlooking Mojave Outpost, marking the union of the two organizations for the common good of the Mojave. However, if you have visited the Mojave Outpost after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, you may have noticed that this statue is conspicuously absent. This is due to the fact that, as the NCR has failed to provide it’s protection to the Mojave in recent years, the Desert Rangers are no longer bound to serve the NCR. As of 2284, every remaining member of the Desert Rangers has left the NCR and returned to the Mojave (all legally and through the official channels, of course).

Today, the Desert Rangers serve as the national guard for the New Vegas and it’s foreign territories. Operating alongside the Mojave Alliance Defense Agreement (But outside it’s direct control) the Desert Rangers are the highest authority in matters of justice, second only to The Courier himself. When a Ranger speaks, it is always wise to listen.

While Rangers often mediate the law throughout the Mojave, occasionally they must enforce it. And they are more than prepared to do so; their armor is of nearly unrivaled quality, offering protection equal to a suit of T-45 power armor at a fraction of the weight. They wield custom-cast revolvers chambered for .45-70 rifle rounds, as well as bayoneted M1 Garand .308 rifles and as many other weapons as they can operate.

So, a word of advice for visitors and residents of the Mojave alike: pray you never need the Rangers. And when you see one, pray you have done no wrong.

While Luna recognized that Isaac was, technically, telling the truth, she still felt every right to be angry at him for ‘trolling’ her, as the youth referred to it. She couldn’t bring herself to irritated, though; she was too fascinated by the machine to muster the concentration it would require. She could tell that the box was moved by more than a simple ‘animate object’ spell; the constant rumbling beneath her feet indicated some form of engine, though one much more complex than any ever conceived by Equestrians. The magical power and sophistication such a construct would demand was staggering, especially when moving such a large object.

When she first laid eyes on the interior she assumed it was a cottage or some other kind of personal lodgings. It wasn’t an unreasonable assumption; there were certainly all the elements required for a home: a stove, sink, storage cabinets, a workbench, bed, dining table, and something she could only assume was some sort of icebox (though she could only speculate the function of the flat glass panel mounted on the ceiling). She thought perhaps that was simply the style of housing in this world; all the necessities of a home collected in one room. It was certainly efficient, and promoted the tenant to spend more time outdoors.

She assumed, initially, that Isaac simply wished to acquire some items from his personal abode and set off as soon as possible. This assumption caused a considerable amount of confusion when sat down near the end of the room and began fiddling with the assorted accoutrements across the window pane. She would have inquired about his intentions when that spherical satrap nudged her into the box.

Shaking herself from her reminices, Luna turned to Isaac. “Any idea who would have attacked the shipment?”

Isaac brought a hand off the wheel to rub his chin, “Can’t say for certain. The Fiends and Scorpions are extinct, what’s left of the Vipers and Jackals left years ago. The Khans moved to Montana, and even if they hadn’t, they don’t attack caravans,” Isaac bore the van right, driving East, “Could be Legion; sometimes a raiding party gets past the border. NCR is unlikely, but not impossible. Moore has been trying to rile up the brass lately, might have gotten the green light on a sabotage missio- what?” he stopped when he noticed Luna’s nonplussed expression.

“You realize that I have absolutely no idea who any of those groups are, don’t you?”

After a moment, Isaac chortled, “Figures. The first time we get to discuss regional politics in this story, I’m talking to the alien.”

Blink. “Story?”

Isaac waved a hand in the air, as if dispersing her question from the air, “Don’t worry about it. Anyways, we’ve got time for the short version.

“The Khans, Jackals, and Vipers are ancient raider bands, all originating from an old fallout shelter back west: Vault 15. They all have been dwindling in numbers and power for the past few decades, and their last members took refuge in the Mojave some years ago. By now, the Vipers and Jackals have been all but wiped out, but the Khans traveled North to Montana. I hear they’ve been doing well for themselves.

“The Scorpions were a particularly young raider band, and they died as quickly as they were born. Nothing much to note there. The Fiends, however, are a different story. Full of junkies and psychopaths of all stripes, the Fiends were a force to be reckoned around Outer Vegas. With thousands of members, a secure command center in Vault 3, and more drugs that you could shake a stick at, they made life very complicated for the NCR.

“But, like any band of insane, drug-addled marauders, all their support and influence came from their leaders. Without them, they had no drive or motivation, making them easy pickings for an organized military.

“So I killed them all.”

Luna blinked, “You what? Killed all of who?”

“Their leaders.”

“Personally?”

“Basically. The NCR had placed several lucrative bounties on their heads; it was only a matter of time. I just happened to get to them first. Took me the better part of a year, though. It was like killing radroaches: crush one, three more come scurrying out of the shadows.”

Luna’s muzzle scrunched up in distaste. Isaac noticed. “You disapprove? From what I remember from our little ‘boast-off’, you didn’t seem to have much of a problem with killing.”

Luna shook her head. “Not killing. You make it seem like you… assassinated them.”

Isaac shrugged, “Essentially. When I could. Had to storm a few strongholds too, if that makes you feel any better.”

It didn’t make her feel better, but she kept silent for the moment.

“Anyways, they’re extinct now, so that possibility is out. And I can’t go into any further details, because we’ve arrived.”

Luna looked out the windshield. They had stopped right in front of a crossroads/ Across the stretch of asphalt sat a gaggle of ruined buildings; patchwork construction and faded colors a result of centuries of neglect. “What do you mean, ‘We’ve arrived’? I see nothing but desert and ruins.”

“Did you think I would drive all the way there without scouting ahead? The last thing I want to do is drive into an ambush. Or a landmine,” he rose from his seat, and Luna followed suit., “Eddie,” he pointed to the floating ball, “stay here. Be ready to bring the van around when I call.”

The orb responded with an incomprehensible string of beeps and tones that Luna could only assume translated into some approximation of ‘yes’, as it promptly floated over their heads to rest in front of the control wheel. She had no idea how it intended to operate the machine, but Isaac seemed to trust it. She would have to do the same.

That’s one hell of an ambush. Rules out raiders. Too professional.

Isaac lay prone on the second floor of a ruined store, overlooking the crash. Moonlight shone above the wreckage, illuminating the shards of twisted steel and rubber. The wreck was strewn about the street, blackened shreds of metal and plastic scattered away from the central chassis. The truck itself was totalled; the chassis has overturned into its side, the windows were broken, and part of the underside was melted away, leaving an enormous hole and exposing the driver’s cab and cargo bay .

Looks like plasma. Pre-planted explosives?

Possibly. Tread marks lead away from the truck to a small crater, still sizzling with green ooze. Definitely plasma.

Someone knew they would come this way. Security breach?

Likely. Need to get Yes Man to review cyber security when we get back.

“My word,” Luna said, “Whoever did this must have access to powerful magic. It would require a very advanced spell to cause this destruction.” Isaac turned to Luna, slightly confused.

Magic?

Irrelevant at the moment. We’ll need to ask later.

Isaac switched from night vision to infrared and scanned the wreckage for hostiles. Finding none, he returned to night vision and rose to his feet, thanking whatever gods may be for his bionic eyes.

“It’s clear, but keep close to me and stay alert,” he whispered, adjusting Medicine Stick on his back as he crept to the edge, “Care for some music?”

Luna blinked; likely startled by the seemingly non-sequetorial question, “Umm, certainly. If you think it would not interfere with our efforts.”

“Splendid,” he leaned forward and let himself fall off the building, fiddling with his Pip-Boy on the way down. By the time his feet hit the ground, he’d settled on the velvety pipes of Nat King Cole.

“You coming?”

Completely deadpan, Luna simply unfurled her sizable wingspan in lieu of a response.

Oh, right. Those. How are those even able to support her weight?

Another question for later.

As Luna glided down, Isaac observed a few more details about the crash; the frame was covered with dents and scratches and the front tires were gone, likely incinerated by the plasma.

“Definitely a pre-planned ambush. Professional, too,” Isaac circled the truck, meticulously taking in details as he pieced the crash together. After a moment, “Looks like the truck hit a plasma mine and swerved off the road. Rolled a few dozen yards before stopping here,” he peered into the driver’s cab, “No sign of the driver. Keep your eyes peeled; they might’ve crawled away from the crash.”

“I doubt it.”

“Pardon?”

Luna pointed to a hunched figure lying about forty feet away from the crash. The driver's seat was still flush against their backside, slightly melted from the blast. He couldn't see their face from this angle, but he noticed the red trail left in their wake, sprinkled with bits of bone and flesh.

“Good eyes. Looks like he was thrown from the crash. Plasma ate through the cab floor, he and the seat flew through the hole when it rolled. Ouch.”

Luna winced, “One can hope he died quickly.”

“One can hope. Anyways,” He approached the rear doors of the truck, “let’s get what we came for.”

As Isaac walked away, Luna considered using a simple medical spell to determine more details about the driver’s death. The cause of death (severe head trauma) was obvious to any casual observer, but she felt compelled to know all the details. She couldn’t exactly place where this urge came from; there were more pressing matters at hand, she had never even seen him before, and she was certainly no stranger to grisly scenes of carnage such as this. Perhaps it was the uniqueness of this particular death that pushed her on. Perhaps it was a subconscious desire to learn more about the biology of humans. Perhaps she simply felt sympathy for the human who died so violently for no reason at all. Nevertheless, she lit her horn and cast the spell.

The driver’s biometric information was projected directly into her mind as her aure washed over him. Aside from the obvious head trauma, his arms were shattered (Likely from an attempt to shield himself upon impact) and his legs had been severed at the knees, most likely due to friction against the road. She let the spell continue to carry her into his body; she saw all 67 pieces his knees had shattered into. She saw every inch of shredded muscle and sinew. She saw each individual piece of his brain, scattered across the road like flowers during cherry blossom season. She saw his eyes, each hanging out of their sockets by a-

Luna quickly canceled the spell and turned away in disgust before the grotesque images overwhelmed her. The sheer number of horrifying injuries, any one of which she could have dealt with by themselves, made her instantly regret casting that spell. After several seconds she started to take deep breaths.

In and out.

In and out.

With each breath, her nerves settled, and the sensory overload quietly faded. It took her several breaths to relax, and when she finally looked around Isaac was nowhere to be seen.

She opened her mouth to call out when a quiet *clang* came out of the truck.

There he is. She thought, and swiftly cantered over to the truck, eager to finally finish what they came for.

Come on. Where is it where is it whereisitwhereisitwhereis-

Panicking won't help us find it faster.

I know! I know! Goddammit, the first alien contact our species has and one of them has to get stung by a goddam cazador! Couldn’t he have just been mauled by Yao Guai or something? It’d be a lot easier for us!

Easy, Courier. Heartlessness and cold pragmatism is my job.

Don’t get smart with me!

“What exactly do we seek at the moment?”

Isaac shook himself back to reality. “Look for a square white box, about 15 inches on all sides. It’s got chamfered corners and a plus sign in the center.”

He heard a quiet thump as Luna hopped into the truck. “Plus sign?”

“An addition sign.” Silence. “You know… math.”

Luna waved her hand and a dark blue symbol appeared in the air. Lines and circles crisscrossed in a seemingly random pattern. Isaac ran through the math textbooks he could remember, looking for anything familiar. He found nothing.

“This is our plus sign.”

That’s just needlessly complicated. How to they teach their children math if the symbols are so intricate?

That’s not important right now. Focus.

“You know what, forget about the plus sign. Just look for-” a sliver of beige white slipped into the corner of his vision. “There it is!” he snatched the box up and threw open the clasps. Inside were two packs of blood (O-), one case of Med-x, and three bottles of Antivenom (one can’t be too careful with cazador stings, especially after so much time has passed). All just as ordered. “It’s all here. Now we just need to get back to the van and hustle back to Nellis.”

Luna’s relief was clear as moonlight; her shoulders relaxed and sank several inches. “Thank the Maker.

“Wait a moment, what about the assailants responsible for this?”

Isaac waved her concerns out of the air. “Not the biggest priority at the moment. Besides, it’s likely some small upstart gang that got lucky. As I said earlier, any major raider factions are either dead or long gone at this point. Which makes sense, considering that nothing appears to have… been… taken…”

Wait a minute.

“Wait a minute,” Isaac’s eyes darted across the truck, “Find the shipping invoice.”

“Shipping invoice?”

“It’s a sheet of paper documenting what the transport was carrying.”

Luna huffed, “I know very well what a shipping invoice is, why do you need it?”

“I have to check something. It’s important.”

After several minutes of searching, Luna approached him. “I believe I’ve found it.” Wordlessly, Isaac snatched the document out of her hand, eliciting an miffed yelp. “Well, there’s no need to be rude,” her objections fell on deaf ears as Isaac scanned the paper.

“5 crates of mixed artillery munitions, 2 sealed boxes of medicine and one box of tools and utensils. All of which…” his eyes shot across the cargo bay, “are still… here.” His mouth hung open as he trailed off.

“So? What does that mean?” Luna prompted.

“It means,” Isaac looked her in the eyes, “That whoever attacked the shipment didn’t take anything.”

Luna’s muzzle scrunched up in confusion. “I don’t follow.”

“Think about it. If they were trying to steal the shipment, none of the cargo would still be here. If they were just sabotaging our supply lines, they would’ve destroyed the cargo, or at least rigged it to explode.

“No, no, no. This wasn’t a random attack. Someone wanted to draw attention to themselves.

Realization dawned across Luna’s face. “This was not sabotage, it was gathering bait.” Luna finished.“Well, then. If they want to draw some attention to themselves, they've got ours-” she froze, ears twitching. “Something’s outside.”

Isaac swept his thermal vision in a circle. Every house and alley was packed to the brim with red blobs. The ones on top floors and ceilings had their heads poked out.

Snipers. I can’t believe you just walked in, we’re better than that.

“We’ve got company. A lot of it.” He tucked the first-aid box into his duster and hunkered down. “I’m not sure they know we know they’re here. I’ll call reinforcements, but we’ll have to stall them before they get here. Just stay quiet and what the hell are you doing?”

Luna stood statuesque, softly mumbling in an alien language under her breath. Her palms were pressed together and her horn softly glowed, brightening subtly with every word out of her mouth. Her eyes shot open glowing pure white. She brought her palms apart and an ebony staff extended between her hands. Her aura faded when the pole reached 5 feet long, and when she gripped it a wicked blade, shaped like a crescent moon, extended out from the top, turning the pole into a fearsome glaive. The blade softly glowed in the night, making her cuirass shine as if in moonlight. “Fear not, Isaac. I shall vanquish these wandoughts in glorious combat, and we shall return to the sergeant's bedside within the hour!”

Stop her.

“Luna, do you remember what I said before I took you here?” he hissed, “‘Perforated with extreme prejudice’?”

Luna scoffed. “Fie on your perforation. I have lived for thousands of years and fought countless battles. Stand back, Courier. The time for talk is over; now you shall observe the might of an alicorn.”

Luna strode out into the open, grasping her glaive with her arms spread wide in challenge. Energy ran across her body, sending the surrounding dust and debris into a small whirlwind around her. Her eyes shone pure white with power, and the summoned the Royal Voice in the ancient tongue of the Alicorns:

“HWIN SEA SIAN TO SOCKOL SLI-”

*pop*
*THWACK*

Luna’s head jerked sideways. Her aura vanished and her eyes returned to their normal blue. She slowly, imperceptibly tilted sideways, and collapsed like a sack of bricks.

An unnatural silence fell upon the road. Not even the crickets dared to make a sound.

Well, that was short-lived.

Swift and silent, The Courier toggled his stealth nano-bots and crouched down. He dared not make any sudden moves, even with the stealth field, as he slowly, methodically crept towards Luna’s prone form. His arms inched forward, creeping towards her dark purple paldrons. His fingers slowly curled around each paldron, warily keeping her barding from so much as twitching in his grasp.

He looked left.

He looked right.

Shall we begin?

Isaac breathed in…

Yes we shall

… The Courier breathed out.

With a firm grip, he summoned all the strength his heavily augmented body could muster, and pulled.

When Luna left the ground, bullets came to fill the space left over. The Courier dumped her to the ground away from the hole and crouched next to it. Some of the bullets dented the truck walls. Some didn’t.

The Courier toggled his EM vision and looked through the wall. His AR scanner counted around 128 hostiles, some heavily armored and all heavily armed. Some shot from the buildings, others running out of them to surround the truck. He heard he ratatat of automatics, pop-pops of semis and the telltale clicks of bolts and levers. He thought he might have heard buckshot. He decided it didn't matter.

“ED-E, be advised,” he drawled into his pip-boy, “I have contact with numerous hostiles at crash site, requesting immediate assistance. Bring Kavacha.”

The gunshots tapered off as the soldiers approached the truck. One of them got within arms reach of the hole. It was their last mistake. The Courier grabbed her by the collar (she wore reinforced combat armor. So did her comrades) and slammed the barrel of Light into her face. Her nose went crunch as it folded in on itself. The soldier tried to cradle her face, The Courier’s knee went into her groin first. He pressed her body against his and fired Light around her shoulder. He spent casings fell to the ground, six bodies fell with them. His bullets spent, their bullets went through the body of the soldier, her armor slowing them enough to save him, but not her. The Courier let her body crumple as he retreated into the truck.

As he slid the next magazine into Light, he looked around with his EM vision. The soldiers had surrounded the truck, most of them were clustered around the hole. Probably too afraid to come any closer after what happened to the last one. A voice rose above the din, sounding like it came from the top floor of the old stock exchange.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU MORONS DOING?!?” he screamed, distance only slightly reducing his intensity. “GET HIM!!”

“But sir!” someone else shouted back, closer: “you saw what happened to the last guy who tried to go in there! We ain't getting near there just to get slaughtered!”

A third voice piped up. “Jeoffrey, relax. There’s a solution you all aren’t seeing.”

Just as the words reached The Courier’s ears a rock clattered into the truck. He glanced at it. It looked more like a frag grenade than a rock, on reflection.

Shit.

Luna woke up in agony. The left side of her forehead sent overwhelming pain throbbing through her body. Her vision swam and all noise was muffled as if behind two walls. She faintly heard shouting and saw Isaac crouched next to another human, slotting a small rectangle into an L-shaped tool. The human laying prone wasn’t breathing.

A metal sphere bounced into the hole and Isaac lurched back. She reacted on instinct and used as much energy as she could muster (not much, considering the piece of metal lodged in her skull) and erected a shield around the sphere. She was faintly aware of the pops and bangs outside the truck, and only barely noticed the sparks and splinters flying through the air. The sphere exploded with tremendous force; the strain on her magic sent another powerful throb of pain through her skull. The shield nearly shattered, but held. She let it drop almost immediately and cradled her head.

“Hello, Luna. Glad you’re still alive.” Luna opened her eyes and blinked as a bright light flashed on and off in front of her face. “Good, you aren't concussed.”

“What in the name of the Maker happened out there?”

“You got shot in the face.”

She shot him a look in between irritation and pain. Her fingers grasped around the projectile lodged in her skull but Isaac swatted her hand away before she could start to pull.

“Don’t touch that: you’ll get blood everywhere. Hold still,” he pulled out a small needle, “this will help with the pain.”

As Isaac pulled back her glove and pressed the needle into her skin, Luna heard someone screaming outside: “...OUGHTA TEAR YOUR GODDAMN HEAD OFF!”

“B-but sir, how else are we gonna-”

“BUT NOTHING! NO MORE EXPLOSIVES, GODDAMMIT! THAT TRUCK HAS FIVE CRATES WORTH OF ARTILLERY SHELLS INSIDE! DO YOU WANNA BLOW US ALL TO KINGDOM COME?

“AND DON’T ANY ONE OF YOU DARE TRY TO RUN! OR I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF!”

“Well, at least we’ve got that going for us.” He muttered. “Alright, here’s the plan: I’ve called for Eddie, once he gets here I can use him to radio for reinforcements. We’ll have to hold out long enough for them to get here, and we’ll have to work together to get through this. How’re you feeling?”

“I cannot think with this thing stuck in my head.”

“Take this,” he handed her a small pill, “It’ll help stop the bleeding when I take the bullet out.”

Luna knocked back the pill with a grimace. She nearly flinched when Isaac started to feel around her scalp, but restrained herself. She felt his fingers wrap around the metallic intruder and wrench in free. She expected more pain, but only felt a dull pressure as it left her skull, as well as a slight trickle down her muzzle.

Isaac held the bloody projectile in his palm and let out a low whistle. “Damn, Luna. That’s a .308. Hollow point, looks like. Looks like you are made of tougher stuff after all. How’s the pain?”

Luna was confused. “Pain? I barely feel anything now.”

Isaac tilted his head, a puzzled expression sat behind his sunglasses. (again, why was he wearing those at night? There had to be a reason) “Med-x is potent, but not that potent. How could… you know what, it’s irrelevant right now. If you’re good to start fighting, you can keep-” Another soldier, clad in identical armor to the one lying dead on the ground, crept into the transport and pointed a weapon at Isaac's back.

“Look out!” She drew herself up standing, but Isaac was faster. Near-instantly, his L-shaped tool flew out of its sheath and pointed at the soldier. There was a flash of light and a *pop*, and the wall behind the soldier’s head was suddenly coated red. He collapsed to the side and fell onto his comrade. It had happened so fast that she barely saw it happen, and Isaac hadn’t even turned his head.

“Sorry about that, didn’t see that guy. Anyways, are you good to go?”

Luna’s eyes shot between Isaac, the corpses on the ground, and the hole in the transport wall. She took a deep breath, scooped up her weapon, and met his eyes, steeled for another go. “I am ready.”

“Wonderful. Let’s go fuck their shit up.”

Author's Note

Sorry for the wait, I got you a present to make up for it.

If there are any continuity errors, spelling/grammar mistakes, or stupid plot threads, comment below. Your input gives me life.

Side note: If anyone would like to edit/beta read/peer review current or upcoming chapters, PM me and we'll work something out.