Fallout: Equestria - Failure

Prologue
"Stupid piece of shit"

Most ponies start a story with some witty, bullshit opening line. I always thought it was just some way for them to sound smart. I'm not claiming to be smart, educated maybe, but not smarter than anypony else in the wasteland. Actually, the only reason I ever was educated was because I was the son of a slaver. I can't even say was, I'm still his son, even if he's dead now. Sorry, guess that's something of a spoiler. Don't worry, that's pretty early on anyway.

Point being, everything that made me the buck I am today came on the backs of countless slaves and their suffering. And if you ask me, it was wasted on me. It shoulda gone to my brother, or any one of those slaves that was tortured, or hell, just any other pony. Somepony who could have been redeemed. But me? With all the evil shit I've been party to, and all the evil shit done to help me, I know I'm beyond redemption and always will be. I can try all I want to be a better pony, to help others, to try to destroy what made me who I am. But no matter what, the innocent blood will always be on my hooves. Sure, not only on my hooves. But just because I'm not alone doesn't mean that it's any better.

To properly start my story, there's a few background details you should know about me. I'm Silver Lining, son of Chrome Lining and Lily. Chrome Lining is my father, he's a hard ass slaver through and through. My mother, Lily, was his personal slave and eventually, wife. She was a classic bleeding heart, not that it's a bad thing to be. But when I was still a foal, she ran off with my older brother Lead Lining after learning how to pick the lock on the explosive collars worn by all slaves.

I grew up in a slave settlement known as Northpass, named such because it's the one settlement in the northernmost part of the Baltimare region that acts as a sort of passage through the mountains to Manehatten. It lets us have control over a good bit of the trading into Baltimare and the surrounding area. Smart move for the founder, or it would be if seafaring ponies weren't still a thing. Still, those are few and far between, and they charge their own, much higher premiums for safe travel to the ports. That being said, we were basically stuck in a canyon doing fuckall to keep the area safe. We had slaves, sold a ton to Red Eye up north, and used the rest to mine for metals and gems. Some of that metal could be sold as is to traders, namely gold, silver, and copper. The rest went to arming us and arming our roaming slavers. Guns, swords, bludgeons, and any weapon we could make, which netted us a healthy profit and afforded us the ability to actually hire teachers, doctors and other skilled labor. Ponies tend to work better for pay than just at the threat of violence. Little more carrot, little less stick, that sort of shit. Obviously when the carrot didn't work, they got the stick (or in this case, whip).

But me? I was some dipshit blank flank. Sure, I knew weapons, trading, and slaving, but that was it. And even though I knew weapons, I was still shit using most of em. Sure, I could strip and clean any gun you handed me and sharpen any blade, but making me use any of em would probably end bad for me.

And at the time, I had a bit of a skewed view on slavery. I genuinely believed we'd be doing them a favor. To me, food and shelter for work seemed like an even trade. Some ponies would still agree with that sentiment, and others would call anyone who thought it an irredeemable bastard. Ponies like me, as I sit now, would believe the latter. But back then, you'd hear me calling any slaves trying to escape "a bunch of ingrates who should be shot"

I'm sure you're tired of hearing about me though. But suck it up, this whole goddess damned story is about me and I plan to tell it right. So sit the fuck down, pull up a few Sparkle Colas or beers or whatever the fuck you plan on drinking, grab some snacks and get ready for a wild mother fucking ride.