Fallout Equestria: Ballad of a Rogue Ranger

Chapter twenty-six: Resurgence

Less than an hour after we’d gotten settled in for the night, and already I could hear the steady snore of Riff drowning out the others. Spending time in the basement huddled with one another got us all used to it by now, though how we hadn’t drawn the attention of anything walking around in these parts of the wastes I hadn’t a clue.

With them out, and the E.F.S. still clear, my horn turned to the little pet project I’d brought along for the trip. Even having everything else cleared from my head, this stone still resisted my own pull. I don’t know if I should be irritated with the unicorn that put the encryption, or impressed… for now I’d settle for a happy medium.

I’d been tugging away at this thing for what felt like it could have been hours, but as my eyes drifted off to the side. That handy dandy HUD told me only about fifteen minutes had passed. Yeah… it was gonna be a long night, and I still had another two hours before I woke Deacon up. Little by little I drew out the enchantment, and matching my own I couldn’t feel it getting any easier.

On the plus side, it wasn’t getting harder on me either-

Zap!

“Son of a-!” I chomped down on my tongue, definitely jinxed that one.

The stone itself found a new home resting on the ground where it’d dropped, and I couldn’t help but imagine the little pulsating glow it gave off was mocking me. This shock hurt a lot more than what I’d experienced in the shop. Maybe it was stronger because I was on the right path to breaking it? Eh, flip a coin, it all depended on what the original unicorn had imprinted on it.

“Having trouble there?” Alimite propped herself up on her forehooves and just looked at me from next to the smoldering fire.

The others hadn’t seemed to awaken from that little outburst, none of them even so much as moved. Before I could cause any more sleep to be lost by em, the matrix found its way back in my bag and I remained propped up on the helmet underneath me.

What? They made a good makeshift stool out in the field, “not for reasons like before,” she didn’t seem to be buying that, “no really, just fiddled with it a bit too much this time.”

Without a word, the mare found her way to her hooves and listed over to me. Armor couldn’t have been that much warmer than the embers left over. Though I suppose I’d taken in a lot of that radiant heat, because she wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

“Hmm… toasty,” Alimite leaned herself against the side of the suits’ plating.

Yeah, it’s not the only thing, “Sorry about that… didn’t mean to wake ya, just figured I’d chip away at it some more,” tinkering helped pass the time after all.

“Oh, don’t be, we all learn to sleep lightly out here,” unless you were a hellhound, and had little to fear, “except for you, it took your stable ready to go up in flames to get you out of your chamber.” Okay, hellhound with nothing to be afraid of, or a very naive pony. Still, I had to share that snicker with her, a reactor going critical was a great alarm clock.

I saw her eyes starting to drift. “How much do you know about the stables anyway?” whelp, wasn’t expecting that one, and she could tell, “Mom told me a number of times about how the stable was inside when I was young, made me always wonder if there were other ponies right beneath my hooves living a normal life,” her tongue stopped there, and I saw that fumble in her look, “Well… semi-normal.”

Sadly, with the various skills and knowledge I had under my belt. Stable-Tec was one of those things that had eluded me. If mine was Stable 100, it stood to reason there should be at least ninety-nine more before it. Though, that’d be a lie as well. There were plenty in the works from what I heard even after 100 was finished. The better question was, how many actually still were operational?

“There were a lot of them, that’s for sure,” it’s amazing what can be accomplished when a good number of ponies see the impending doom of their nation, “but if my experience is anything, they weren’t nearly as hearty as Stable-Tec advertised.”

Hell, I had both sides of the spectrum for experience of just how bad a stable could go. On the low end, a simple discrepancy when it came to shielding for the spark reactor that doomed the stable and its residents. On the high end, a reactor that decided to commit suicide.

Never the less, with the number of them that were created, it stood to reason something must have gone right in a few. “Stable-Tec tried to build things to last, and either they crashed and burned… or they were nearly indestructible,” those shelters were designed to take megaspell blasts after all, “I’d imagine somewhere in Equestria there are ones still working.”

I felt a breeze sent a shiver across my muzzle, and so did the mare as she snuggled a bit closer into the plating. “And I’d imagine if they could see what it was like on the surface, they’d probably choose to stay inside their shelters,” could you really blame em? “Hard to believe some pony right now might be learning about the war in a history book.”

When you say it like that it just makes me feel old, “Hmm… think they’ll run across a picture of me?”

One shoulder check and a smirk later, and the both of us found ourselves staring at those flames flickering away. It was kinda surreal to think of it that way. If there were other stables out there functioning normally, then after this long there had to be a few generations of ponies who remained oblivious to the world above. If the Steel Rangers could manage to hunker down in their own shelters, and come out flourishing.

I’d bet caps on it there was a few stables out there doing the same. Though Alimite did make a point, there’s no way they’d stick it out here if they had a choice. Some stable pony would probably take five steps out, say nope, then turn right around. Unless of course they didn’t have a choice, like some of us.

Plating between us or not, after a few more moments of watching the flames dance. I felt the soft rise and fall of the mare as she propped herself up against me, now fast asleep. The wasteland made ponies light sleepers, and also able to fall asleep anywhere. With more of a gentle horn than I had with the matrix, I laid her down on the ground beside me, and got as relaxed as I could in the suit.

She was out, yet even then Alimite still managed to roll just a bit closer to the almost radiator like heat of the suit. The ghost of a smile still on her muzzle told me enough, she was comfortable there curled up like a cat in front of a fire place.

Whelp, I wasn’t moving an inch from this spot now… “Just another hour and forty-five minutes to go…” I hated this clock sometimes…

***

Sleep came a lot easier than I expected after Deacon relieved me, and with a good couple hours keeping those bags from under my eyes at bay. Our little group approached the marker on my screen. On the few occasions where I’d popped my visor open, at this distance there was still a funk that was growing with every passing step we took. Definitely sewage treatment like Alimite said.

Riffs muzzle was probably the only one besides myself who didn’t have a mask put over it as we approached, and once again I found myself thanking the genius who put these filters in the helmet. Hell, even Alimites’ bandana found its way around her nose to keep some of the scent out.

Another curve of a hill later, and across through the thick of sickly trees I saw the open vats behind a fence. Really now, who even wanted to break in to a place like this before the war? Our trot broke to a light step, and Deacon fluttered his way up to the branches above. My E.F.S. wasn’t picking up anything from this range just yet, and with many of the waste tanks lining around the area inside. Tumble looked to be having trouble getting a glimpse of those behind the fencing.

“You’re not gonna find much cover out here to get a closer look,” Alimite perked up alongside her counterpart, as Tumble let out a huff, “no pony wanted to live near a place like this, so it’s all open ground.”

Great, so charging in head long was gonna have to be the plan… whelp maybe our eyes above had something else to-

“I got nothing,” Deacon answered my unasked question once he landed, “not a single creature out and about, least not in the open.”

Well, they did know to be expecting a ransom at some point, “maybe they’re hunkering down till we arrive?” weak offer, but the best I had at the moment.

I mean, what else would they be doing? If they were smart, which in of itself was kinda a stretch, then they knew a whole settlement would be pissed about having one of their own taken. I know I’d be preparing for an entire assault if the caps trade turned ugly.

“How about I go knock, see if there’s anypony that answers,” truth be told, it wasn’t the worst idea I could have had, “ya’ll stay back in the tree line incase things take a turn.”

No counter offers? Good, with that they hung back and my hooves pressed forward along the path we carved through the woods. I half expected gunfire once I broke the tree line, but with the air still silent I kept my head up. They had to have heard me coming, across the ground in Power Armor you’d at the very least feel something vibrating under your hooves. Still, my E.F.S. remained clear.

Even with the front gate approaching, there wasn’t so much a gun barrel sticking out over their perimeter. A few clicks, and I hovered over selecting the shield talisman. The closer I got, the easier I’d be to get a lucky shot off with a missile, and at this range a direct hit would turn me into a work of abstract art.

Alright, about ten yards out now… and still, nothing, “Hello!” I shouted out through the speaker, drunk guard on duty forgetting to raise the alarm? Or chemed out of his mind? “Anyone home!”

I heard crackling, but as my visor looked around it was just the wind against some of the dry grass. So subtle approach out the window, and I charged towards the gate. The makeshift battering ram of my shoulder still hadn’t let me down yet, and maybe that racket would garnish some attention from those… here?

Between the tanks still topped off with raw sewage, and all the various shacks and supply sheds out in the main yard. Deacon made the right call, there wasn’t a soul to be had. I could see outside those shacks’ tables with cards still on em, bottles of booze, spent shell casings, and maybe the occasional pile of bones. Ya know, all the usual wasteland garbage, but no pony to claim ownership.

More rustling from behind told me the arrival of my friends, and from their silence much the same that went through my head probably went on repeat in their own. Tumble, Deacon, and Alimite all poked their heads around through the sheds if any creature was hiding. While Riff and myself kept our eyes peeled for anything that might jump out at us.

Prime time open target right now, and I waited for a shot to ring out…

Instead, I got screeching metal like claws on a chalk board, and a very embarrassed looking gryphon holding the door open to the main facility. “Ahh… my bad,” nothing out here, so he had the right idea.

If the outside was clear, only other place to go was in. With him on the door, myself and the mares lead the way inside before Riff held up the rear. My helmet light flicked on, and all around I got the typical ruin vibe from every other place I’d explored. Flickering lights, dusty corridors, random scrap every which way and that.

Yet, still no raiders, “Are we sure this is the right place?” I cocked my head towards our guide.

Alimite didn’t look all that amused with that question, and instead I got her hoof pointing just above us. There for us all to see was the tarnished nameplate of the building, ‘Stonewall Treatment Plant- tidying yesterday’s messes today!’… as if your septic system needed a motto. My question was still answered, and I had to wonder if they could have moved the colt out before we’d shown up.

Only one way to find out, my light stayed forward along the hall on towards what I’d imagine was the main processing hub. At least, that’s what all the signs would have me to believe. We’d already passed by other doors labeled for locker rooms or other employee spaces. Though I doubted they’d keep a hostage there. They’d probably be held up in a place the raiders could easily defend.

Riffs’ barrel popped up next to me as both of us took point at the door, and with her heavy paw the latch on it swung open for myself to charge in… and promptly grind to a halt. Just like the outside, this place was clean. Well, cleanish, more spent shell casings, and what I doubted was paint sprayed across the walls. As along either side of us remained the vats of liquid in stages of processing.

But no Caravan worker in sight, not even a raider.

“Let’s poke around, maybe they moved him,” Alimite already started heading towards the ladder well, and worked her way to the catwalk above.

I wasn’t far behind her, while the others broke off in their own search. A closet maybe where they stuck the poor colt and dipped out? Further down in the processing area? If I had to guess from the stowage tanks going down the lengthy hallway, this one plant was handling all the waste water for the surrounding area.

From below I heard the clatter of my friends looking around every nook and cranny this place had to offer. All the while my eyes were glued to the E.F.S. for anything to pop up. Blue bar, red bar, I’d take purple right now.

Thump.

My chest careened into to the back side of the mare, and Alimite stumbled forward with a few skips to catch herself, “Sorry… trying to look at the sensors,” just not where I’m walking.

“I’m good, just worried about that,” her hoof stuck in some blood across the catwalks’ grate. What? Should I be surprised about- oh… that was fresh.

I’m an idiot… spent shell casings, and fresh blood on the ground and walls. Somepony beat us to the punch, and that just raised more questions. For example, where the hell were the bodies? It’d take a lot of effort to kill a bunch of ponies then dispose of them before we got here, and I couldn’t imagine who would go through that trouble. If somepony else was in the area and rescued the colt, they’d have no reason to, and any other group would leave them to rot in place as well.

The further we went down the walkway the less I was liking this place. That blood she pointed out only started to get more and more frequent, yet there still wasn’t a pony for it to belong to. The trio below didn’t seem to be having any luck either, in and out from between the tanks I watched them go. Though every time one of them emerged it was with empty hooves.

Waste tanks behind us, and in front was another door. Alimite creaked it open with her shotgun drawn, and right by her side I stuck. There were enough places here to hide and get the drop on somepony. Apparently enough to hide an entire facility of raiders. Though we were getting somewhere now, in the open space below us were cages those ponies used for their entertainment, and not a soul to-

“I got em!” Alimite shouted, and leapt off the catwalk to the ground below.

The mare raced over to one of those cages, as myself and the trio joined in to see the colt… and he’d seen better days I’m sure. Littered across his chest were dozens of small cuts, each one oozing puss and almost gel like blood. There wasn’t a medicine in Deacons’ case that could cure that, his eyes remained bloodshot and yellow while they stared back at us. All the mare could do was run her hoof over trying to close them, but with the swelling they stayed open.

“…Gangrene…” Deacon muttered, and picked up what looked like a rusted kitchen knife from the ground. Caked along its edge was the same waste that had been festering for nearly two centuries.

Alright… where were these raiders… my helmet hid the grinding of my teeth, but there wasn’t a thing around to take my nerves out on. So instead, I went over to the colt and held the chains up holding him to the cage, as Riff cut him free. I might not have met Tanker, but there wasn’t a pony alive who deserved- okay no there were a few, but you get my point.

From behind me I could hear the tutting of the gryphons’ beak, as he went about the area. “It doesn’t make sense…” I don’t know, this scene seems pretty cut and dry to me, and he already saw the questioning glare we all shared, “Raiders like getting paid, so why would they kill their chem-ticket?”

He… had a point, the raiders we’d come across so far were of the shoot first mentality. Though, if they were hoping for come caps to come their way, why would they do this to the colt? Plus, that was far too much blood scattered around the place for just one colt. They had to be here somewhere, probably dead by another hoof, but if they weren’t, they would be soon. My eyes darted around for something, anything to tell me where they might have gone.

Before, they rested on one thing.

Processing plants like this weren’t all that complicated. Waste water was taken in, scrubbed of its garbage, and then filtered and sent back out. Though you needed to do something with all that garbage left over. Many places would send it to the dump, but from what I read some would outright burn it all.

The incinerator wasn’t all that surprising to see in this place, but what caught my eye was the parchment stamped to the door. With Rogue Ranger written large enough above on the metal in pony fluids for me to see.

My horn reached out and pulled it free, and brought it to my visor, “If you’re reading this then it’s probably a bit too late for your friend. Infection is a nasty tool, but when I get to play with you it’ll be just one thing in my bag of tricks…” somehow while I read it aloud to them, I could hear their voice saying it in my head as well, “…Raiders’ fault for getting in our territory, and his fault for getting captured at the wrong time.”

And our fault for not getting here in time… Infection is something that normally doesn’t act fast, but with all the waste battered up on that knife. That was a recipe for a long and cruel death, “Usually I would have just killed him on the spot, but he was so sure this wonderful Ranger was going to get him home safe, and just kept talking you up… how’d that work out for him?” this was one of those ponies that deserved the same treatment I meant earlier, “As for you, don’t forget about that little favor I asked of ya, and try to keep it for a bit longer… sincerely, Lock XOXO.”

Saying the hugs and kisses wasn’t necessary, but it would be necessary to give the mare a hug and kiss when I saw her. Particularly 12-gauge hugs, and 14.4mm kisses right down her damned throat… Lock had gotten here before us, killed the raiders for being in her turf, and tortured the poor guy. Getting to spit in my face through a note was just the icing on the cake for her.

With care Riff shouldered her launcher and picked the colt up in her paws, at least he could be brought back home… but I knew that would matter little to his family if he had one. That wasn’t a conversation I was looking forward to. This colt had been crossing his hooves that he’d get to see them once again, and here we were.

A day late, and a dollar short.

“Ugh!” Tumble started coughing behind us, and turns out the mare popped the cork on that door, “Found the raiders… I think.”

Stuffed inside those brick walls were mounds of charred pony bones. Now that the door was open, I could see the heats haze through the air, and somehow given her treatment of Tanker. I doubted Lock had them put in there already dead. Their jaws locked open in a silent scream told me that much. Scum or not, there were still worse ponies out there in the wastes… and one of them had the hots for me.

***

A tarp might not be the most appropriate casket for the colt, but it’s all we could find in the plant to wrap him in. The Gunners had picked that place clean before they left, not leaving behind so much as a tin can for scrap. At least it kept the grime off Riffs’ already dirty coat, but with nothing else holding us there we headed back towards the settlement with the bad news for somepony.

News I wasn’t looking forward to delivering… ‘How do I even say this?’ hey, sorry about your loved one, but some bitch took her anger out on him. Yeah, that’d likely get me slapped, or shot, ‘What would Lilac say?’ she was always the more tactful one.

The spread in our group along with the silence did make for a good thinking place, and as long as the Eyes Forward Sparkle stayed clear. Then all I had to worry about was what to do when I got back. Although, light hooves coming up to my side put those thoughts to a grinding halt, as did the wrench tapping to my armor.

Alimite didn’t exactly look cheery after finding out the demise of the colt, but for being somepony who knew him more than us. She was in a lot better spirits than myself, “Quit blaming yourself…” how did I know those were gonna be her words?

“Hard not to, he was counting on a rescue,” and instead he got an execution.

That didn’t look to faze her in the slightest, “A lot of ponies are waiting for their knight to come galloping in to save them,” hmm where have I heard this story before? Usually there was a princess and a dragon somewhere in the mix, “but out here it ain’t a fairy tale, there aren’t always happy endings.”

“Is that… why you seem so calm with it?” that sounded better in my head, but she wasn’t smacking me with her wrench so I continued, “You knew him best out of us, and it looks like it’s just rolling off your shoulders.”

For a moment as we continued walking her steps halted, before picking back up with my own, “Don’t mistake it for being cold hearted,” Alimite bit back her tongue as if she wanted to say more, but pressed on after a shake of her head. “I know back in your time… there were plenty that passed in the war, and just like now, suffice it to say, it’s something you get used to,” another breath gulped down her throat at the thought, probably something she’s been building up a tolerance for over the years, “I know in time my mom will pass away, or she might have to bury me tomorrow… there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Its like playing a game of chess with only one piece. You can move around as much as you might like, the inevitable fact is it’ll come to an end eventually. “He was a carpenter for a different town,” she glanced my way, knowing I was still heeding her previous words through that visor.

“Why’d he go by Tanker then?” I hadn’t caught the stallions’ cutie mark; it was too marred up by cuts to decipher.

“Used to haul a tank of fresh water for the caravan, after deciding to hit the road of course,” okay, now it was more fitting, “in time though he also started helping out around our town, patching up shacks and such.”

Now the tough question… “Did he have any-”

“Family? No,” I hate to say it, but thank Celestia for that, “Ashburn was about the closest thing to it I believe, never saw him close to any other.” So, there was still somepony to tell the bad news to, but also somepony to remember him, “If you want, I can be the one to tell her.”

Alimite made the offer, and while I might have wanted to jump at it. It wasn’t something I should just pawn off, “I appreciate it, but I can do that.”

“Then I’ll join you,” she passed me a small smile, “it’ll be easier coming from a friend.”

Stubborn as always, but welcome all the same.