Fallout: Equestria - Silvertown

by Featherlight

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Science Fiction, Fallout, Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Crossover, Death, Alternate Universe, Narcotics, Anthro
Length: 7321

When a recon mission goes awry, an Enclave trooper finds himself with a missing limb and a whole lot of debt.

It was a simple mission. Go in, recon the place, then go home. But now a young pegasus finds himself alone in a cruel world, and forced to search for his missing squad members. Caught up in conspiracies larger than him and armed with an iron fist, all that's left is to carve a path of violence and death.

Published 2020-12-14 23:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2020-12-14 23:10:00 UTC

Prologue - Reconnaissance

Coal. That’s where it all began. Equestria was in an age of rapid industrialization. Tremendous factories billowing black smoke. Massive steam engines, bigger than houses, powering titanic production lines. Beasts of steel thundering on the iron road. The land and those that called it home found themselves thrust into a new age, with great cities towering into the skies, built on the backs of armies of labourers. One of these cities, Silvertown, grew from a small mining town in the wilderness of the Badlands into a monument of industry. As the city grew, so too did the divides amongst its population. The factory owners grew more and more powerful, consolidating their wealth in massive conglomerates. Outside in Equestria, tensions were growing. The new working class that had arisen was growing restless. With resources running out and the threat of revolution on the horizon, war was declared on the zebra nations. The gears of industry were thrown into high gear, feeding more and more ponies into the meat grinder, both on the battlefield and in the factories.

Back in Silvertown, a single corporation had risen to the top. Silvercorp. This tech giant was at the forefront of technology, it’s factories pumping out new autowagons, new weapons, even prosthetics and cybernetics. Ever expanding into new markets, ever extending its grasp on the city. The antagonism between the workers and bosses rose to a boiling point, and by the time the megaspells rained on Equestria the city had devolved into a civil war. The factories finally fell silent when the megaspells hit, devastating most of the city. The city would once again be shaken to its very core, two hundred years later.

*********************************************************

It was a simple mission. Go in, recon the area, then leave. I had been doing missions like this for a few years at this point, and there was no reason for this one to be any different. I checked my gear one last time, making sure my radio was set to the correct channel and that my laser rifle was in good condition. Satisfied, I looked around the small room I was sitting in, and at the rest of my squad. There were four of them, including me of course. There was Summer Storm, the team leader and the oldest member of the team. Her coat was a light blue, complimented by a short white mane and pale blue eyes. Sitting next to her was Winter Gale, the radiomare of the team and the younger sister of Storm. The opposite of her sister, she had a white coat and a long blue mane. Across the room was Wind Rider, the markspony, polishing his custom laser rifle. His long, gray mane fell in his eyes as he adjusted the scope, forcing him to continually brush it away. Why he never put it up in a ponytail was beyond me. His black coat blended into his uniform, making it hard to tell where the fur ended and the fabric began.

Storm was the first to break the silence, loudly clearing her throat to grab our attention.
“Listen, I know this is just a simple recon mission, but don’t get sloppy. We don’t know much about the region, and the locals may well pose a threat to us. Only engage if you absolutely have to,” she paused, “And Gale, try not to break the radio again. Now, any questions?”
“I have one,” I spoke up, raising my hand.
“Yes, Sunbreeze?”
“I uh, I forgot what this place was called.”
“Seriously?” Storm sighed, “It’s Silvertown. We’re just scouting out some of the outskirts.”
“Right.” I looked down at my rifle. I could tell Storm was rolling her eyes at me even without looking.

A few hours later we were well on the way to our destination, flying just above the cloud cover in a loose formation. Ducking through the cloud cover, a great desert landscape unfurled below me, stretching out as far as the eye could see. There were a few buildings scattered about here and there, and an expressway stretched towards the horizon, a few abandoned autowagons still rusting away on the cracked asphalt. As we travelled a great city slowly came into view, looming on the horizon. The buildings were becoming more frequent now, even small villages appearing as we went along.

It wasn’t long before we reached the outskirts of the city. The skyline was dominated by a titanic skyscraper, reaching up into the skies, emblazoned with the name Silvercorp. The facade was crumbling, but the building was otherwise intact. Factories stretched out along the river running through the city, their chimneys numbering in the hundreds. Mile after mile of row houses stretched out beyond them in a rigid grid pattern, breaking only to let the expressway pass through. It was within this endless maze of buildings that I spotted what I could only presume was our objective. A whole block had been turned into a fortified settlement, walls made of scrap metal stretching between the buildings. I could see movement down below, ponies going about their day. Our radio silence, however, was soon broken by the sound of Rider’s voice.
“We got contacts, on the ground, at 11 o'clock!” He called out, diving down towards the ground to get out of the open, followed by a single gunshot ringing out. The rest of us dove down with him, flying low above the buildings.

I readied my laser rifle as another shot rang out, the bullet impacting right below where I was. Ducking back, I fired a beam back towards where the bullet had come from. Hunkering down, I looked around to see where my squadmates were. Gale had landed on the roof behind me, and was talking into her radio. Rider was nowhere to be seen, as was the case with Storm. I assumed they had also taken cover somewhere. Hearing yelling from below, I took a peek over the edge of the roof, but quickly pulled my head back as a bullet struck where my head had been just prior.
“Where are the others?” Gale called out to me, and was soon answered by the sound of gunfire from down the street. By the sound of it, at least one of the enemy combatants was equipped with an automatic weapon.

Any train of thought I may have had was quickly derailed by the sound of a small, apple-shaped metal object landing on the roof. Taking one quick look at it, I hurled myself at Gale, aiming to get her out of danger. The grenade exploded just as we reached the edge of the roof, sending shrapnel flying towards me and ripping into my wings, causing both of us to crash onto the street below. Dazed, I rolled off of Gale, and aimed my laser rifle in the direction we had just come. A pair of raiders came rushing out of the alley, charging us with spiked baseball bats. I dispatched one of them with a laser bolt to center mass, making him collapse, and the other one was dispatched by a clean headshot from Gale. I scrambled to my hooves, still keeping my rifle trained on the alley. I glanced down at the radiomare, who seemed to be mostly unharmed. My heart sank when I saw that the radio had been smashed in the fall, disabling our long-range communications.

With more raiders on the way, I ducked into a nearby alley, dragging Gale with me and leaving the busted radio in the street. Taking cover behind a dumpster, I took a moment to survey the damage I’d taken. My uniform was bloodied, and I could feel a sharp pain in my back from where the shrapnel had struck me. I wasn’t going to be flying any time soon, that was for sure. Gale seemed to be mostly fine, though quite shook up.

“Listen, Gale, we gotta get to the others, alright?” I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. “We’ve handled this sorta thing before, we’ll be fine, we just gotta regroup and get out of here.” She looked at me with a fearful expression, not quite believing me.

More yelling from outside of the alley forced us into action. I fired blindly around the corner of the dumpster, giving Gale an opening to retreat. She ran out the other end of the valley, and took off in the direction where we had heard Storm and Rider earlier. Now it was my turn. I fired a few more bolts and made a break for it, sprinting down the alley, bullets impacting around me, and rounded the corner. Safe for now, I began heading in the direction my comrade had gone, only to find that she was nowhere to be seen. It was when I ran past an alleyway that my whole left side lit up in pain as a shotgun blast caught me in the legs. I fell forwards, crying out in pain. Still holding my rifle in one hand, I turned over onto my back and aimed it up at the raider standing above me. I squeezed the trigger and the laser struck the raider in the head just as the shotgun went off, firing a wave of buckshot into my right arm, almost completely severing it.

The raider fell to the ground, a large hole in his forehead as I struggled to open my pack, rapidly losing consciousness as the blood drained out of my body and pooling beneath me staining my white coat a dark crimson red. Before I could so much as even open my pack my vision turned to black and I slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Author's Note

A bit unfished, but hey, it'll do for now.

Chapter 1 - Look Alive, Sunshine

I awoke to the hum of a fluorescent light. Opening my eyes and letting them adjust to the brightness, I looked around. I was laying in what looked like a hospital bed in a small room. The door was closed. I breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in the bed, when I realized that I had no idea how I had gotten here. And perhaps more importantly, I was also missing an arm. My heart raced as the memory of what had happened came rushing back and I shot upright, breaking out into a cold sweat.

I could hear movement outside, and panicked as I saw the handle on the door turning. I tried to get out of the bed, but my legs refused to respond. The door opened, and a tall stallion wearing a gray duster entered the room.
“Woah there boy, easy now,” The stallion calmly spoke, holding his hands out in front of him. “You’ve been out cold for a week. Frankly, I’m amazed you’re even alive.”
He was an earth pony, with a dark, earthen brown cost and a rust coloured mane. He looked old and grizzled with the scars to prove it.
“Now, as I’m sure you can understand, I got a few questions,” He sat down on a chair next to the bed. “Why don’t we start with what you were doing in these parts?”

I kept my mouth shut, glaring at the stallion, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in the back of my mind asking where my squadmates were. A whole week had gone by. My arm was gone. And for all I knew, there was no way for me to ever go home.
“Cat got your tongue, eh?” The stallion leaned closer. “Maybe I wasn’t being clear enough, but the only way you’re getting out of this hospital is if you answer me.”
“I, uh…” I paused. Was I seriously going to betray the Enclave? “Recon. We’re recon.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” He grinned. “So, where’s the rest of your squad then?”
“No idea.” The stallion stared right at me, raising an eyebrow.
“Well then, can you at least tell me why the Enclave is suddenly taking an interest in this place?”
“Nope,” I sighed, “We only get told where we’re going, not why we’re going there.”
“Just a grunt, huh,” he stood up from the chair. “I’ll hold up my end of the bargain, don’t you worry.” And with that, he left the room, leaving me to be alone once again.

Time dragged on as I could do nothing but lay in bed and go over the events that had led up to this over and over again. There had to be more to it than just bad luck. It couldn’t have been just some random group of raiders. Maybe it was one of the higher ups that wanted to get rid of us. Maybe a spy had infiltrated our ranks. Or maybe I was just overthinking it.

That train of thought was interrupted when the door opened again, this time ushering the arrival of a tired looking dark gray, almost black unicorn in a lab coat. His white mane was tied back into a ponytail, and looked like it was in need of a good wash.
"Let's see here," he adjusted his glasses and looked down at his clipboard. "Sunbreeze, was it?"
"How did you-"
"Dog tags. Now listen, I don't know how or why you're alive, by all accounts you should be dead." The doctor said in an exasperated tone of voice.
"By the time we found you, you had lost an arm, your back was full of shrapnel and you were paralyzed from the waist down, not to mention all the buckshot we had to dig out of you."
Putting the clipboard down, he looked me right in the eyes. "Basically, you're fucked beyond repair through conventional means."
"And that means?"
"You either spend the rest of your days in a wheelchair or bite the bullet and go for cybernetic surgery. Unless you want us to just take you out back and shoot you, of course." He chuckled.
"So you're just gonna give me cybernetics, just like that?" I asked, my suspicion rising.
"Oh no, you'll be paying for it, but a crippled skyrat is just gonna be a drain on resources."
Well, that's one way to put it I suppose.
"So you're just doing this to earn money?" I questioned.
"I suppose so, but if it was up to me I'd have just left you to die. It was Open Range's idea to save your life." So much for the hippocratic oath.
"So how much do these cybernetics cost, exactly?"
"Oh, a few grand. Don't worry, you'll pay it off in a few weeks. Just don't try to skip out on us."
"Or what, you'll shoot me?"
"Something like that. Now, do you want the surgery or not?" the good doctor demanded.
"I'll take it." I sighed in defeat. Oh boy, indentured servitude.

Before I could react, the doctor's horn lit up and I felt the sting of a needle stabbing into my body, injecting me with something. The last thing I saw before going under was the grinning doctor.

*********************************************************

I was awoken by the now familiar hum of the fluorescent lighting, but something was different this time. I could feel a cold metal surface beneath me, and cold air all around me. I opened my eyes, blinded by the harsh light shining down on me from the ceiling. As my eyes adjusted my suspicions were confirmed. I was in an operating room, that much was clear. Still, an odd feeling lingered in my body. Evidently I wasn't alone either, as I could hear movement in the room, followed by hoofsteps and the sound of a door opening and closing. I sat up on the operating table, and looked down at my body. My torso was wrapped in bandages, and in place of my missing arm was a hunk of metal. It was a crude looking thing, sloppily painted red and with exposed wiring running along it's underside. It attached to some sort of mounting point on my shoulder, with more wires running between the two.

The room around me looked more like a workshop than a surgery, with spare cybernetic parts dangling from the roof and laying in crates. It was dimly lit, the only source of light being the one above the operating table. I swung my legs around, dangling them off the table, and dropped down onto the floor. Immediately I staggered, struggling to retain my balance. Spotting a mirror at the far end of the room, I limped towards it, slowly getting better at walking again. It was hard to make out my reflection in the dimness, but once my eyes adjusted, I was met with a grim sight.

My fur was dirty and bloodied, the once vibrant blue muted, and my crimson mane was dirty and tangled. My uniform trousers, my only article of clothing besides my holotags, were tattered and torn. The metal arm hung limp at my side. Turning around, I could see a metal ridge travelling along my spine and terminating at my neck, where a long cable was attached. My wings looked to be badly damaged, enough that I wouldn't be able to fly for at least a few weeks. Reaching up with my left hand, I grabbed the end of the cable and pulled at it. Almost immediately sparks shot through my body and colours flashed in my vision, forcing me to let go of it. Following the cable with my eyes, I saw that it connected to some sort of device attached to the operating table.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” the familiar voice of the doctor rang out. “That makes this next part a lot easier.” I turned around, watching the unicorn walk towards the operating table. He reached down and pulled the cable out from where it was attached. Bolts of pain shot through me, sending me crashing to the ground.
“WHAT THE FUCK,” I yelled, getting back to my hooves with some effort.
The doctor rolled his eyes and walked towards me.
“How’s the arm? Tried using it yet?” He grabbed hold of the metal arm, examining it. I could feel the warmth from his hands. Instinctively I pulled my hand away, eliciting a grin from the unicorn.
“Good, looks like it’s fully connected.” He tapped on the metal shell, causing my fist to clench. “It’ll take some time to get used to, but at least it’s working.” He let go of the arm, letting it hang freely.
“So, about that debt,” He pulled out a clipboard and looked down at it. “Thirty five hundred cap, give or take a few dozen.”
“Is that a lot?” I questioned.
“Yes.”
"Oh."
The doctor sighed. "Go see Open Range, I'm sure he'll have something for you." He motioned towards the door, and then went towards the operating table.

Not wanting to spend any more time in here, I made my way to the door, and after a few attempts at opening the door with my prosthetic, left the room. I found myself in a hallway, opening into an office at one end and with a door marked as the exit at the other. A few more rooms opened into the hallway, but none of them seemed particularly noteworthy. I went towards the exit, and was almost out of the door when a familiar voice called out from behind me.
“Are you really going out like that?” The stallion, Open Range I assumed, was standing behind me. I turned around and looked at him. He was wearing the same duster from earlier, now with an accompanying cowpony hat, and had a bag slung over his shoulder.
“What’s it to you?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“Listen, kid, you’ll just get yourself killed looking like that. Folks uh, they don’t take too kindly to pegasi, especially not ones that they ain’t never seen before.” He swung the bag around, holding it out in front of him. “You’ll need this.”
I accepted the bag, with some hesitation. It was heavy, and I could hear stuff jingling around in it.
“Go get yourself ready, I’ll be waitin’ for ya outside.” He tipped his hat and went through the exit, leaving me alone in the hallway.

I ducked into one of the side rooms, an office of some kind, and opened the bag. The first things that caught my eye were my laser rifle and the remains of my uniform shirt, along with my holotags. Discarding the shirt, I took out the rifle and let it sit on a nearby table as I inspected the other contents of the bag. It consisted of a tan cloak, worn and tattered, and a collection of plates made from scrap bits of metal along with the straps to attach them. After a whole bunch of finagling with the straps, I had finally managed to assemble some sort of rudimentary armour, with the cloak covering up my wings. While the armour left a lot to desire, it was better than nothing. At the very least, my torso had some protection. Strapping the bag to my back and slinging my rifle over my shoulder, I went back into the hallway and out through the exit.

Stepping outside, I immediately recognized the settlement as the one I had flown over a week ago. It was bustling, merchants hawking their wares between the old row houses and drifters travelling through. A few of the houses were wrecked, but the street was otherwise remarkably well preserved. Looking back at the building I’d just come out of, it looked like, well, a clinic. A sign on the outside of it proclaimed proudly that this was a ‘Silvercorp’ clinic, whatever that meant. Across the street I could see a few ponies wearing dusters similar to the one Open Range wore, conversing and occasionally glancing at me. I was about to approach them when the stallion in question called out from behind me.
“Woah there kid, you’d best keep yer distance,” he put an arm on my shoulder, turning me around to face him. “Now listen, you’re gonna have to work off that debt, and I don’t want you running off into the wastes and getting yerself all broken again.”
“Why are you so intent on helping me anyway?” I questioned, and he promptly looked away.
“I’ve seen what this wasteland does to folks like you,” he sighed. “And I don’t want to see you turning into a monster.”
“I’ll be fine, old man, don’t worry.” We both know that’s a lie. “So uh, how am I supposed to pay off this debt?”
“Suppose you’ll have to take on some bounties. Dangerous, but, well, at least ya got better training than most folks out here.” He pointed towards a large noticeboard in the center of the town, around which a group of ponies, even a few griffons, had gathered.

Approaching the noticeboard and pushing through the crowd, I discovered the source of the commotion. Smack dab in the middle of the board was a large wanted poster, proclaiming a two-thousand cap bounty for the capture of Enclave troops. It didn’t have much in the way of detail, but it was plenty obvious who the targets were. Trying to keep my cool, I took a gander at the other bounties on the board. Mercenary contracts, requests for salvage, and bounties on various raiders in the area. Most of the bounties all seemed to be on big warlords, or pre-war treasures, all probably quite far from the settlement. The one bounty that stood out was for some raider called Motor Baby. Someone with that name couldn’t be very tough, right? I took the note in my hands, taking a closer look at it. It offered a reward of four hundred caps for the killing or capture of whoever this raider was. The only other thing it mentioned was the location, 3rd Buckton Avenue, and that the target was accompanied by at least three other raiders. It seemed easy enough. I made my way back through the crowd, trying not to gain any attention and praying to Celestia that nobody realized I was a pegasus.

Breathing a sigh of relief once I was out of the crowd, I made my way back to where Open Range was standing. At the very least it would be a good idea to ask for directions.
“You got anythin’?” He asked as I approached, and I nodded and handed him the note. He chuckled. “Oh, that one. Yeah, that one’s close enough. At least, close enough to not fry your brains.” He chuckled, then caught the shocked look on my face.
“The doc didn’t tell you?” He sounded surprised. “I thought you knew about that. The doc put a killswitch in you so ya don’t just run out on the debt.”
I just glared at him.
“Listen kid, that arm of yours may just look like scrap metal, but there’s a lot of expensive technology in your body, and we’ve had enough folks try and stiff us on payment already.” He said sternly. “You’re still enclave, and for all we know you’ll just head right back to HQ and have us all killed,” he continued, more quietly.
“Well, you’d best get going then,” He waved me off, putting on a fake smile. I sighed and made my way towards the gates at the far end of the settlement. A few of the guards at the gate gave me dirty looks as I passed through, and I glared back as I ventured out into the city.

The atmosphere outside the settlement was completely different, a testament to just how much work had been done to make the place livable. Trash and debris littered the street, and the buildings all looked ruined and long abandoned. Even just a few blocks away the roads were littered with the occasional skeleton. Aside from the sporadic sounds of gunfire, it was dead silent.

Chapter 2 - Iron Fist

3rd Buckton Avenue. That was the location written on the bounty note. And avenues are big, right? You'd think it would be easy to find, and yet, I've spent hours trying to find it. I ducked into one of the many alleyways, sitting down on an old milk crate after making sure I was alone. Might as well try to figure out how to use this arm. So how does one control a robotic arm? The legs had been easy enough to figure out, but that was just a matter of fixing his spine. I thought back to when the doctor had touched it, and I pulled it back. Was it as simple as just doing it instinctively? I tried raising it, and I could feel the servos whirring, but nothing happened. I tried it again, and this time managed some movement. Getting over the initial alien feeling, I went further, clenching the hand into a fist. Standing up from the milk crate and getting into a pose like the ones in the boxing magazines, I made an attempt at throwing a punch.

It was enough to throw me off balance, and I only narrowly avoided smacking my face on the opposite wall. Regaining my footing, I tried throwing a punch again, this time impacting into the brick wall. It sent dust flying and created a small crater in the brick. Satisfied, I left the alley to continue my search.

It was when I exited a small side street that I finally found it. Buckton avenue. Littered with skeletons, of course, even more so than the usual. It was chaotic, with broken barricades and police autowagons and bones everywhere. Trotting along, and taking note of the numbers on the buildings, I started to approach my objective. The bones were piling up more and more, accompanied by tatters of red fabric and old, barely legible protest signs. I did my best to ignore the gruesome sight as the numbers on the buildings became lower and lower until, finally, there it was. 3rd Buckton Avenue. It was an office building, big and boxy and worse for wear. Sure didn’t look like any raider den I had seen. Then again, it was only a small group I was after. Taking a closer look, I started to notice bullet holes and splotches of blood outside the building.

Well then. I readied my laser rifle, slowly pushing the doors open. There hadn’t been any guard outside, so I could only assume the place was booby trapped. Quickly scanning the room for threats, I entered the building. The reception area was dominated by the large desk in the center, and branched off into several different hallways stretching in various directions. The chairs behind the desk still had skeletons sitting in them. A large streak of blood on the floor, some of it still fresh, led into one of the hallways.

Following the streak of blood, I entered the hallway. All I could hear were the sounds of my own hoofsteps, the building was otherwise silent. The blood diverted from it’s path down the hallway, running under a closed door. Stopping in front of it, I turned the door knob and opened the door.
A wave of stench emanated from the room, in which lay easily a dozen or so corpses, their blood and entrails spread about the room. It took all I had to not throw up at the grisly sight. I slammed the door closed and leaned up against it, trying to calm myself down. I could do this. I could do this.

I could hear movement and yelling from somewhere else in the building, and panicked. I was in a long hallway without any cover and outnumbered. As the noise got closer I opened a different door in the hallway and took cover behind it. Hoofsteps were getting closer, too close.
“I know you’re there, rookie!” A voice called out. “Just come out and make this quicker for the both of us!”
I raised up my rifle and ducked out of cover, firing a bolt as I did so.

Nothing. The hallway was empty. I was instead met with a baseball bat to the side of the head, sending me stumbling across the hallway, and followed up by another hit from the bat, this one hitting me in my ribs. Still reeling, I took a look at my attacker. Motorcycle helmet, leather jacket and skin-tight leather pants.

He charged up for another swing and, having recovered from the two blows, I ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding the bat. My rifle having been knocked out of my hands, I resorted to my fists, throwing a right hook at the raider’s head. It connected, smashing through the visor and into the raider’s face.

He reeled back, blinded by the broken pieces of plastic shoved into his eyes. I stared at the now bloody metal fist. Adrenaline was rushing through my system as I looked back at the raider, who was struggling to get their helmet off. Shifting all my weight onto my left leg, I threw a straight punch with my right hand, knocking him off his hooves.

With the raider on the ground, I tore his helmet off and punched his face repeatedly, reducing it to a bloody mess. He cried out in pain, weakly holding his hands up in a feeble attempt to stop the barrage. It only stopped once he’d gone completely silent and his face was beyond recognition.

I stood up, breathing heavily and with blood dripping off of my fist. I had never killed someone with my fists before, much less in such a brutal manner. Still, I couldn’t just stand around. I had to keep moving. I could hear more yelling and approaching hoofsteps.

I quickly looted the fallen raider, grabbing anything that looked valuable and taking his jacket. It wasn’t like he was gonna have any more use for it. Grabbing my rifle, I continued down the hallway, staying close to the wall.

Another raider, dressed similar to the first, rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, firing off a blast with a sawn off shotgun. I pressed myself against the wall, some of the pellets just grazing me. I fired back with a laser bolt, hitting him square in the chest, staggering him, and pulled the trigger again to finish him off. Click. Click. It was empty. With the raider raising his shotgun again, I tossed my rifle to the ground.

I dashed forward, still riding high on adrenaline, narrowly avoiding the spread, and caught him with an uppercut to the body mid reload, throwing him off and opening him up for a followup punch with my right hand. Blood sprayed from his nose as metal impacted into flesh and bone, sending him staggering backwards.

He clutched his broken nose in one hand and drew a knife in the other, lunging towards me. I stepped back, doing my best to keep my distance from the blade. I threw a few light jabs towards him, measuring out the distance between us, remembering what little training I had in unarmed combat.

He took a big swing at me, and I dove in, closing the distance and throwing a right hook at his ribs, hearing a loud crack as the fist impacted. I briefly felt a sharp pain in my side, but it went away almost immediately as I stepped back. I was caught off guard by a knee to the stomach, knocking me off my hooves and onto the floor.

The raider was on top of me immediately, hitting me with blow after blow. I scrambled, looking for some way to fight back or get out. It was only now I discovered the knife sticking out of my side. With no other option I pulled it out, ignoring the blood spurting out of the wound, and thrust it into the side of the raider, giving me enough of an opening to headbutt him.

I pushed the dazed raider off of me, getting back up on my hooves. The raider was still on the floor. I raised a hoof and brought it down with full force on the skull of the raider, sending him sprawling on the floor. I brought it down again, this time producing a sickening crack. Then one last time, and the raider stopped moving.

I quickly searched his pockets, finding nothing other than some bottlecaps and a syringe, miraculously unbroken. Med-X. At least, that’s what it looked like. Desperate, and without much time to think, I stabbed the needle into my arm and pushed down on the plunger, feeling the liquid flowing into my veins.

I felt relief at first, as the pain died down, but soon enough I felt my body getting warmer, the fire rising. I took a look back at the two corpses decorating the hallway. The ones I had killed. With my bare hands. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation. I approached the end of the hallway, still giggling to myself, and started to pick up the pace, even breaking into a sprint.

“Crash? Smash?” I heard a feminine voice calling out at the end of the hallway, and when I rounded the corner I was met with a surprised looking mare. She was clad in old pre-war sports gear, and wielding a pool cue. Not that it helped at all, as I smashed into her with full force and knocked her to the floor. She screamed as I started to pummel her with my fists, trying to fight back and having her fingers smashed as a result.

With another one running down the hallway towards me, I stood up, just in time to catch a pipe wrench in the face. Could be worse. I responded with a quick jab, leading into a barrage of punches, forcing the raider up against a wall. Blow after blow landed, painting the wall red with his blood.

I only stopped when I heard a gunshot and felt a stinging pain in my left side. I turned around, finding myself facing the barrel of a hunting rifle. This raider was different from the other. Their jacket had a lot more decoration for one, with a big plume of raven feathers decorating the back and with plates added at key points for better protection. The helmet was painted in vibrant colours.

“Hey asshole, why don’t you fuck off and die?” The raider jeered at me, still keeping the gun aimed at me. They were standing in a doorway, and far enough away that I couldn’t close the distance without getting shot. Well, getting shot more than I already had been.
“Why don’t you come closer so I can beat the shit out of you?” I called back, clutching the wound in my side. I wasn’t out of the fight yet, I just needed an opening.

In the corner of my eye I could see the mare from earlier trying to crawl away, and I ducked to the side just as another shot was fired. Grabbing the mare and pulling her up, I held her out in front of me as the raider boss rounded the corner.
“I got your friend!” I taunted, holding the mare in a chokehold. I slowly closed the distance, careful not to expose myself. Blood mixed with tears dripped onto my arm as the mare struggled against me.
“Fuck you!” She responded, keeping the rifle trained on me, but not firing.

Once I got close enough, I shoved the meatshield at the boss, throwing her off balance, and dove in with my fist, aiming to hit her with a right hook to the face. She was quicker than me, though, and smashed the butt of the rifle into my face as the other raider fell to the floor beside her. She followed up with a kick to my stomach, sending me stumbling back.

I regained my footing and quickly closed the distance again, knocking the barrel aside just as another shot was fired, causing the bullet to go into the wall. Once again the rifle butt swung towards my face, but this time I ducked, going under the barrel and springing back up in an uppercut to the stomach. It connected, smashing against plates sown into the jacket and severely denting them. Just as I was about to throw a follow up punch a knee came up, striking me in the stomach and knocking me back.

“This ain’t my first rodeo rookie!” The raider taunted, once again levelling the barrel of the rifle at me. Bang. I wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way, and I could feel the bullet go straight through my stomach and out the other side.

Mustering all the strength I had left, I charged at her, pulling my right fist back as she raised up the rifle to defend. I unleashed a right straight punch right at her helmet visor, smashing through it and into her skull, my arm crying out as the wrist joint shattered from the force of the impact.

The raider boss stood still for a moment before falling limp to the ground, dragging me with her as my fist had become jammed in the helmet. Both of us fell through the doorway, ending up in another room. I hesitated a moment before pulling my fist out, being a bit careful as to not damage it further. Blood spurted from the hole in the raider’s face, and the wiring in my arm sparked and crackled.
I cried out as feeling began to return to my body and the adrenaline died down, making me acutely aware of just how badly injured I was. Everything hurt. Every bone, every joint, every muscle.

I’d been beaten, I’d been stabbed and I’d been shot. I rolled off of the raider and onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. With a lot of effort I sat up, looking at the dead raider beside me, and then down at myself. I was covered in blood and dressed in tattered rags. More importantly, I was also losing a lot of blood. With a new found urgency, I started to search her body, trying to find healing potions. Bottlecaps, a switchblade and some other bits of junk. A healing potion. Without a moment’s hesitation I popped the cork off and chugged the liquid. I breathed a sigh of relief, finally taking a look around me. I was in an office, with various bits of scrap laying about as well as some supplies.

I took another look at the raider bosses jacket, then at my own rags. I stood up, taking off the cloak and letting it fall to the ground along with the various metal plates I had strapped to my body. it wasn’t as if they’d protected me at all, anyway. Kneeling over the raider bosses body, I undid the clasp on the helmet and took it off. She was young, probably around the same age as me. It was hard to tell what colour ehr fur had originally been under all the dirt caked onto it, and her mane was equally dirty and ragged. Oh, and she also had a gaping hole in her face. Slightly unnerved, I shifted my focus to her jacket instead, pulling the zipper down and taking the jacket off of her corpse. It was when I rolled her over onto her stomach that I discovered that she was a pegasus.

A chill went down my spine as the realization struck me. This could very well have been me if I wasn’t born above the clouds. Trying not to think too hard about it, I took the jacket off of her. It was heavy. I put it on, struggling to get my right arm into the sleeve. Once the jacket was actually on, it was a lot less heavy. And hey, I could always just get rid of the sleeves if they started causing problems.
I went about searching the corpses of the raiders for anything valuable, pocketing whatever I could find. By the end of it I had a few dozen bottle caps to my name along with a sawn off shotgun and a dozen or so shells. Making sure to grab the boss's helmet, as the name ‘Motor Baby’ was written on it, I was about to leave the building when I heard a door opening behind me.

I went back into the hallway, towards the source of the noise. I stood in the doorway, shotgun drawn. It was a small supply closet. The raider mare from earlier cowered inside, holding her hands above her head. She was terrified, her eyes puffy and red and both her face and body covered in bruises.
“D-don’t shoot!” She pleaded, “It was all Motor’s idea!” I levelled the shotgun at her head. Last thing I needed was for a bunch of raiders coming to seek revenge on me. Best to get rid of any loose ends.
“I didn’t kill anyone!” She continued to plead. Even if it was true, she was still a raider. She was still guilty even if she didn’t personally pull the trigger. Was I any better though? After all, I’d taken out my fair share of caravans. But that was just following orders. It wasn’t like I took any pleasure in it. But I still did it anyway. I still reduced innocent ponies to ash, and for what? Padding out my resume so I could get a cushy job after I left the military?
“Please, you have to believe me! I didn’t kill anypo-” The blast of the shotgun splattered her brains on the walls, painting the room red. I closed the door and left the building, heading back out into the wastes.