Fallout Equestria: just Arma things

"I've got a rough idea for how to proceed from here. If we keep along this street we should reach Scrap by early morning. There is a raider nest on the route a few blocks from here, but it should be easily bypassable if we use the low lighting to our advantage. How's it sound?" I asked Firefly, who was looking over a crude map of the area. She pointed her hoof to the spot I marked with a cross.

"So that's where they are? How exactly do we slip by, it all seems rather open?" She inquired.

"They've put up a few barricades in front," I gestured on the map with a finger. "Which both provides cover for them, and limits how much a small barrel fire will illuminate. Makes sense to me that you'd want to avoid being seen before you strike if you're a raider."

She thought that over for a few seconds, before nodding in agreement. I put the map back in it's pouch; grabbing my rifle from the wall before stepping out into the streets of Manehatten. I took point of the column, keeping a decent pace to let them keep up. It was still rather dark out; the cloud cover not helping at all. The tactical glowsticks offered very little illumination, and would make us more visible in the darkness. Still wishing that I threw NVGs in this kit. Or at least a flashlight woulda been nice. Damn you me!

Tonight was eerily quiet; no distant shrieks or gunshots. Just the sound of hoof and boot falls on the concert. After we had passed the first block, Firefly spoke up.

"So Blackjack, why is the magazine for your gun in the back of it?”

“Well the rifle is in a bullpup configuration, which means the magazine is in the stock of the firearm, which allows the rifle to be a bit more compact while still having the same barrel length as a standard rifle. I’m not a huge fan of bullpups or 5.56 in general, it’s just what the 1st Army Corps was given by the Industrial District.”

"Industrial District?"

"Yeah. Rohadine is made up of four districts. The Capital District, Industrial District, Rural District, and Expansion District. Each district has its own military force that it supplies and funds, with the Capital being able to call upon the forces from the other districts if need be." I explained. "I’d rather talk about this later, that fine?"

"Fine."

The quiet moments are the worst. You’re always waiting for something to break the silence, with the feeling being worse for me in urban environments. Any window or doorway or rooftop could have an armed enemy waiting to spring an ambush. I’m probably just being paranoid though. The rain had started up again; the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance gave me a slight spook.

We head passed another block without issue, and when we had gotten closer to where the raider nest should be, it had been destroyed. Bodies were strewn about the street, slashed and ripped apart with their blood pooling in the cracked concrete. The stench was putrid. The bodies were still fresh however, which meant whatever it was happened in the past couple hours. What the hell happened? Must've killed them quickly or else I would've heard gunshots. "Wait here for a second, I'm going to see if I can find anything useful quickly."

"Be my guest." Firefly responded while covering her muzzle with a hoof.

I approached the bodies carefully. The first one had three giant gashes going from chest to flank, its head and all four legs missing. Stepping over and heading to the next one showed much the same thing. All the bodies shared the three sets of gashes and the missing some or all limbs. Oddly enough everything of value was also missing. All guns, melee, drugs, and caps were all missing. I turned back around to Firefly. "There's nothing left, everything's already been takin. Lets get go-..."

BOOM

POV Change: Pfc. Hanz

I kept to the low ground between hills, making sure I wasn't skylining. So far nothing bad had happened in between now and when I got teleported. Though now something bad has to happen now.

Around the bend of a hill in a small ditch was another crashed aircraft, this time it was a D77 Pelican dropship. The airframe was heavily scorched on the front end, the writing "MARINES" was barely legible on the side. The left wing was torn off and laying next it. Maybe it would have something useful in it. Pistol drawn, I slowly approached the crashed Pelican, keeping my eye on the top of the hill. Blood was splattered on the dirt around the doors to the troop compartment; An empty can of biofoam was on the ground, showing that there was at least a few survivors of the crash. I guess the UNSC are here now as well.

This was one of the later models of D77 due to the cargo nets above the seats in the back, which luckily still had a gun. I grabbed the M7 SMG and inspected it. Its small, compact design made it the perfect weapon for drop pods. It was still in decent condition luckily, and it was suppressed. A few magazines were up with it as well; not enough to last but enough to get me out of a situation. Unfortunately there wasn't anything else of use. With nothing else for me to find and in need of somewhere safe to rest, I kept going on my original path.

That path led me through more hills. This downtime gave me time to think about this place, the talking ponies with guns, the anomalies. It was strange. Fuck, I forgot about Blackjack. I really should check up on him.

"Blackjack, you there? Blackjack?"

Nothing. All I got was static. Either I'm just out of range, or something bad has happened to him. Well, nothing I can do for him right now.

After a good hour or so of walking, I found myself near a valley. I took cover under a small tree, using it as an observation post to watch the valley. I pulled my rangefinder from its pouch on my chest; switching off the night vision mode. Far off in the distance was a walled settlement, its walls made of scrap meal. The terrain was relatively open, a dirt path going towards the town. The entrance to the valley was to the north.

A caravan was moving towards the town at a slow pace. It was made up of more ponies. They looked to be expecting something to happen, their heads on a near constant swivel. What ever they had must've been important for them to be that jumpy. I put the rangefinder back in its pouch before finding a good spot to dig a foxhole to sleep in for the night.

I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of voices.

"I don’t think it’s worth it, Screw." A deep male voice spoke. "I mean, if it’s as thought as the rumors say..."

"I understand your concern Cobalt, but we need the caps..." A female voice, presumably the one named Screw responded.

I grabbed my SMG quietly, slowly looking over the lip of the foxhole. Through the bushes two ponies were visible, both sat near a camp fire facing away.

"Screw, there’s better ways to make caps. We could scavenge in the old pre-war military ruins, we could join a caravan. Anything but hunting down that... creature." The guy said, trying to convince Screw out of hunting someone.

I aimed at them; my finger hovered on the trigger just in case.

Screw sighed. "I... realize that. But if we do this job, we’d have enough caps to buy a place in New Oasis. We’d be set for long enough to find something more permanent for income."

"But what if we can’t find it? What then?" The guy asked. Screw didn’t respond.

"Then... then I’ll... I don’t know."

They didn’t say much after. Eventually they put out their fire and fell asleep. I carefully pulled myself out of the hole, then quickly sneaking past the sleeping pare before they woke up.

I followed along the dirt path towards that town. The low light made it especially difficult to navigate. The darkness did help with concealment, making somewhat safer to maneuver around.

There was no noise whatsoever. It was rather nerve racking not hearing anything other than your own shallow breathing. Maybe the ponies at that settlement would be more friendly. I really hope so.

Lights from the settlement could be seen once I got closer, which meant it had power generation of some kind. That could be good.

Specimen: Pfc. Hanz

Foot note: Level up.
New Perk.
Perk: Light on your Feet -- You’re surprisingly light on your feet, and people swear you’re a ninja. You gain a bonus to stealth while carrying less that 100 pounds, and pressure based traps are 50% less likely to go off.