Fallout Equestria: Ballad of a Rogue Ranger

Chapter four: Heavy metal

So… this world wasn’t a dream still, damn…

It wasn’t the best night’s sleep I could have gotten, that award went to the freezer. Still, it had been nice to see the old days once more, even if it was but a dream. The morning sun, or at least as much sun as there could be through the cloudy sky, lit up the attic just enough for me not to need the PB light, good thing too. More light tended to give one position away, and judging from the squeak of floorboards.

I wasn’t the only one in the house anymore.

The steady creaking and dragging of metal against the floor below didn’t give much to go off of. Looking out the small window I could see a few ponies making their way through the streets, all ragged and beat up much like the ones yesterday. Spikes, torn up cloth, and heavy leather plates really seemed to be in season.

“There’s gotta be some better scrap around here,” the crusty voice muttered below, “Maybe some chems…”

It was hard to tell where they had been. Just below me, bottom floor, bedroom, bathroom? Who knew, I sure didn’t. One thing I did know though was staying up here and trying to hide would get me killed if they just searched long enough. With a steady motion I moved over to the ladder well up, and cracked just-

Okay! I guess it being used for the first time in over a century took its toll on the equipment, as it gave out the second my horn started to push on it. Causing the entire contraption, and myself to fall down to the floor below. Good thing my back broke the fall, and let me be in a perfect place to look up to the yellow twigged out eyes of a stallion. In his maw was what I could only imagine as some kind of gun in his mouth.

Three shots later, and it was absolutely some kind of gun in his mouth! I was starting to think that a stable jump suit may not be the most practical armor imaginable. Luckily for me the gun was a small caliber and left me with just a few bleeding holes, unluckily for him, he didn’t have S.A.T.S.

Four shots from my own pistol aligned on his head, from this close how could it not kill him. One nicked his ear, another missed entirely and went in the wall, the third got him in the jaw at least, with the fourth finally going off and disappearing to where I know not… did I mention that I really didn’t like small arms? I’ll take an AR over this even any day.

Whelp melee it was!

The pistols’ grip was effective against more than a number of radroaches sure, but a full-grown stallion? Kinda a different story there. After a few whacks he still stood, dazed a bit, but standing. With the spell wearing out his gun rang again, peppering the floor boards with a few more shots at my hooves, and giving a moment to switch weapons.

The metal tube of a missile launcher was far better, and as he stumbled to align his shots from the few hits with the pistol. The heavy weapon itself whipped around from my back and smashed in to his skull. With the crunch that followed told me all I needed; he was down for the count.

His friends outside, might need a little more convincing…

The round metal apple shape bounced cleanly through one of the windows as it rolled across the ground. I may have been able to dive out of the way enough to miss the majority of the explosion, but my hind legs hadn’t gotten around the wall quite yet. Shrapnel stung like hell! More than the .38 caliber that had hit me moments ago. With blood now starting to steadily trickle down my legs I slugged down a healing potion and let the magic take effect.

Well damn, these things were great! I watched as my wounds closed up before my eyes and I got a renewed sense of energy. The bullets that started to pepper my old home immediately brought me back to reality though, and warned me of the few that were making their way closer in now for the kill.

Okay, new plan… or would this be the first plan anyway? Eh didn’t matter, with my legs still working properly and the stinging bees gone I got up to the second floor and looked out the window. There were only a few of them, five at most, six if you wanted to count the one down stairs now looking like paste.

I checked over my pistol ammo and… eighteen rounds left. Yep I was running low, and if I couldn’t even hit a pony literally a foot in front of me with targeting. How was I supposed to hit a group of ponies crossing a street in the open? Yesterday was dumb luck… and S.A.T.S. was recharging. With the metal tube slung up on my shoulder and steadied with my horn, I aimed down the sights and pressed my luck into something more familiar. It might blow up next to my head, but at that point it wouldn’t be my problem anymore would it?

“A little more…” they walked with guns drawn towards the house, and I saw another bouncing a grenade up and down in their hooves waiting with the most eager pair of eyes to toss another one in. ‘Oh, you’re getting it first,’ the thought crossed my mind as I looked at his saddle bags and could only imagine what other goodies he had in there.

There wasn’t even time to see the back blast, from me to them was less than a few dozen yards, and that was covered in no time by my shot. Apple grenades had been reduced to what I think you could call pony jelly… then pony vapor, and whatever he had in his bags had done a wonderful job on his companions. Each of them either still twitched from the metal that had passed through them, or laid perfectly still like they never even moved in the first place. You know, minus the missing limbs from their torso.

One day…

It had barely been one day, and I already had ten notches on my belt… it was going to be a long time out of the stable, but as sad as it seemed. These ones were getting easier. Why they went from zero to murder pony on site of another I couldn’t tell you, maybe that’s how their life had always been. How did they end up like this? Is this how the whole of Equestria was now? Add those to the list of questions…

With a sigh and a shake of my head I walked down and out of my place. It had been stained with blood, bullets, and probably a number of heinous acts over the decades since I had been gone. It wasn’t a home to me anymore, neither was the teal house across the way. If she’d gotten out, and couldn’t go home…

Where would she have gone?

The question would linger for a bit, but as I checked over the bodies of what remained of those outside the only sensible place would be the next town over. It’d be nice to travel in style, even if that style was spikes and such. Alas, their armor was shredded from the blast of my missile and Apples extra munitions… pity, I would have loved to have some grenades at least for the trip.

Past that the weapons they had looked worse for wear than the launcher itself, at least I got a few dozen 10mm rounds off of them though. With nothing more that would be better off as dead weight from those bodies, or puddles. I looked to my map for a little bit of guidance in this semi-new world.

“Let’s see… Maresport.” The cursor hovered over the general area and got to walking. Launcher firmly on my shoulder, and loaded if it was needed.

***

Why did it feel like this wasteland was a lot of the same thing cut and pasted ever few hundred yards? Burned out building, check. Crashed vertibuck with skeletons around it, check. Random piles of bones that never seemed to make a full pony, I’d probably just beaten wasteland bingo by now with how much it all seemed to be the same thing over and over again.

… yep, this was going to get boring really quick.

Random rounds of gunfire off in the distance, yep mark that one off too. Though as I approached the town, I listened a little closer, that sounded like some heavy arms these ones were using. A lot more than whatever those other ponies had their hooves on. An extra pep in my step brought me forward to the fray.

When did I start running towards the sounds of gunfire?

With a panted breath I looked around, there were a few pockets of shots going off. Closest one to me seemed to be… a Steel Ranger? Three of them? They’re still around? Then again, it’s hard to mistake that armor, especially with my experience. Something wasn’t right though, that armor should be more than capable of sustained hits from multiple small arms at once, so why was this one having any-

The gut wrenching shot that rang out answered my question all too well, kinda hard to move and fight effectively when you keep getting hit with Anti-Machine Rifle rounds. One shot you might walk away from if the repair talisman on the suit could catch up, but judging by the now two suits laying on the ground. Someone had a lot of ammo to burn through.

One suit however, remained standing.

Okay standing may have been an overstatement, if I had to guess from the sparks of electricity bouncing off of it his matrix was shot, but the pony on the inside should be fine. I dived behind a few of the piles of collapsed rubble as a few more ponies came in to view. Just like I called it, these one certainly had a nice supply of weapons.

The grenades dotted along their vests of the six that came down, happily draped across their green combat armor. An unnerving emblem of a pony skull with its mouth wired shut painted on their plating… hmm think they meant business? Each one sported some sort of long weapon too, well taken care of it seemed like. Even past all the debris and dust, I could see the shine of fresh gun oil on that IF-86 assault rifle!

“Ya still in their mate?” one in heavy combat armor asked and tapped the power armor with the butt of his rifle. When no reply came, he did it a little harder and started laughing, “Oh come on now, I know those grenades didn’t kill ya.”

“Let me out of this thing and you’ll see how alive I am!” the voice from the ranger shouted out through the muffle of his helmet.

They were supposed to have some sort of speaker on then, but I guess with his suit fried more than an egg. You lost all form and function, and just became a paperweight. We never could get past that in the testing phase. Do you have any idea how delicate spell matrixes are? They’re easy enough to reset, but doing so inside a suit is another matter. Some suits are a little more insulated though, some like this poor stallions’, not so much.

“Tagger, how long do you think his buddies will last before we can barbeque em in their suits?”

Alrighty fuckers! There may have been a few choice decisions made during the war that were in bad taste. However, I draw the line at cooking soldiers in their own armor! With launcher up and loaded I took aim, hitting the one right in front of the ranger would probably kill him in the process if none of his suit was working.

Then again, adding another notch by exploding the one furthest made a wonderful distraction!

“What the fuck was that!” another shouted as he got up from the ground, covered in what I can only imagine was his friend.

And… running once more! In to the building they came from I went. The missile launcher slung once more around my back; splash damage didn’t make for a very good close-range weapon. With the pistol at my side, I waited for them to take the hint and start looking around. Thank the princesses for E.F.S. The red bars moved steadily from around the floor below, but with an eye I kept a view on the stair well.

S.A.T.S may have given me a percentage for my hit chance, no matter the range it seemed. On the other hoof, if I put the barrel right next to the pony’s skull… a single pull of the trigger, and the colts’ crimson added a fresh coat of paint to the wall past him. Jig was up, so I ducked back in to one of the rooms. There weren’t as many bars as when I first saw them, so I’d probably gotten at least two with that first missile.

The hoof sized hole that appeared through wall told me that whichever ones were armed with the AMRs weren’t too worried about conserving ammo. I don’t even want to know what it could do to a… no wait, I knew perfectly well what it could do to an unarmored target! Might need a shovel to clean me up, and a mop. Okay so they could punch through the very walls I needed for cover.

However, we were inside, and those weapons were very large.

Looking at where the hole came from, I crawled under it and moved over to the door to poke my head out. Just my luck the coast was clear, with a charge I went to where the shot had come from and kicked the door in to the office. There stood a very confused looking mare who tried her best to hoist that weapon around in the tight room to me.

Pistol trumps rifle in close quarters, even with me at the grip.

Granted it took several shots to actually hit, go through her armor and drop her, but it worked in the end. Alright, one more down… three more to go. One hadn’t moved since I got in to the mix, and that bar planted itself next to a very still blue one outside. Hmm… mister BBQ must be keeping watch.

The door I burst through brought another with the assault carbine. It was oiled perfectly, and boy did he know how to cycle that receiver! The 5.56 rounds dotted around the room kicking up papers, sparking off metal, and even tearing out chunks from the desk I hid behind. With a click to his weapon, I shot up and looked out for him, but he had already gotten back in cover.

The barrel though to his weapon poked just past the frame, and with a tug of my magic, I dragged the body of the mare closer and picked up her armament. Might not be high explosives, but it certainly wet my whistle. Another volley of fire peppered inside the room, and just like clockwork his gun ran dry. Horns were so much better at holding heavy weapons, and mine missed the grasp of guns like this! The bipod dropped as I leaned up on the desk, with a tight grip on it with my horn, the mini-cannon tore a hole in the frame of the door he tried to use as cover.

Healing potions work wonders sure, but they won’t fix you if you’re missing half your torso… my shoulder however, might just need a day or two of rest. Ejecting the round with a loud clank of the bolt, I lugged the weapon with me and put it on my back next to the launcher. Don’t want to make the same mistake as the mare. Pistol out, and let’s find the other-

The stock of any weapon to the face was never a fun thing to experience. Then again with the alternative being the bore of his IF-9 Combat shotgun, I’ll take the stock. Quickly the barrel turned around after my stumble going towards my chest, the pistol fell to the floor from the hit and both my other weapons were far too cumbersome pull out at a time like this.

So, what’s a pony to do?

My horn reached out instinctively and grabbed on to his vest. Both of us looked at one another for a second as I held up three or four pins in my aura, and he looked to the cooking grenades on his plating. With a shove from to the room he had come from and a dive, not even a peep was heard more from the colt as he vaporized in a meaty woosh as the blast swept out to the hall.

A quick check of myself and this time I thankfully didn’t take any of the shrapnel with me. That just left one more to deal with, and this time he was coming in to join me here. They really needed to upgrade the E.F.S., I’d love to know how close something was before it just jumped out from corners like Grenades did a second ago.

“Tagger? Spitshot? Bomber?” BBQ had muttered out loud as he went, “Where are ya’ll?”

This one had been in heavy armor, even up close my pistol might not do a thing, but I had at least one shot left to make it count. With a sharp whistle from my lips, the ears of the stallion perked up as he looked down the hall to me and the launcher. Funny how the tables can turn so fast, one minute you’re talking about cooking a solider in his own armor. The next minute you’re gone like a magician in a puff of smoke… a puff of very red, misty, smoke.

Scot free I hadn’t walked away however; it was only a matter of time before that launcher bit me in the ass, and that it did. The exhaust pipe at the end expanded too much and shattered along the shoulder rest next to my skull… my thankfully thick skull. It might have not been enough to kill me, but oh wow I could feel my ear dangling down half my head! Judging from the dry touch to my hooves that just had to be bone showing from probably third-degree burns. It was numb in the center, but those edges set my brain on fire with pain!

Slugging down another potion while I had it, I let the magic go to work and mend my face as best it could. I huddled there against the wall to myself, clenching my jaw until I could hear out of my right ear once more and the skin had grown back. Keep my bones and blood on the inside… that’s all I needed.

Back to business, there was a ranger to save.

Out I trotted from the small office building, and there right where BBQ had left him was the Steel Ranger. There didn’t look to be any new holes in the armor, or scorch marks for that matter, so I had to guess the stallion I just dusted hadn’t made good on his idea.

“Are you alright in there?” it seemed like a stupid question at the time, the two other bodies around him were likely his friends, but hopefully he still lived, “Hello” I tapped a few more times on the helmet before the coughing finally greeted me.

“Ugh… I’m going to carpet bomb this whole area if I get the chance,” that I could respect, though he’d have a way to go before he was even close to that level of offence, “Who are you? And where are the rest of those damned Gunners?”

Gunners? Hmm maybe this group that attacked em? With a flick of my horn I popped open the armors service hatch on the side and hooked my Pip-Buck up to it, “You mean those ponies that were attacking you? They’re… taken care of let’s say.”

“I can only hope you worked them over well before they perished,” he groaned from inside, trying his best to take a look at my work. The flexibility of the armor was never one of its strong suits, “Wait, do you know what you’re doing?”

‘Command, reboot… reconnect primary matrix master key…’ the steps went through my mind like I was reading them from the tech manual for the first time, “It’s a… long story, but just give me a second and…” after a surge of power the suit came back to life as the pony on the inside did the same. With a quick shake the ranger moved all the servos and joints to ensure it was in working order.

Just as with a quicker turn he went to his downed soldiers… I could see the look of dejection on his helmet. This ranger was irate for good reason, and he was looking up to the rest of the town as he listened in to the sounds of other gunfire in the distance. The visor of that suit met my eyes and looked me over for a moment, the stable suit I wore may have thrown him off a bit. I know I didn’t look like some of the ragged ponies you saw walking about these parts.

“What’s your name civilian?”

“Wild, Wildfire,” I answered, kind of surprised at the civilian remark. Such formality in a place where you can be cooked alive…

“Military back ground?”

“No…”

“But you understand power armors?” yep, this was absolutely him sizing me up, and the jumpsuit wasn’t helping.

“Ahh… I read a lot in my stable,” I lied and tried my best to tip toe around trying to explain that I was an antique that just rolled out of a freezer. Reading seemed far more believable at the time, and I was in no position to have him doubting me. Especially to a pony who could vaporize me with that IF-90 Anti-dragon autocannon on his side, “…I’m good with matrixes and weapons… sir.”

It felt appropriate to call him that, at least it was respectful. That garnished something from him it seemed, maybe a thanks because he didn’t get that often. Perhaps it was about running in to a pony who still had some manners out here. Either way, it got a good reaction. With a hoof extended towards me, I took it in my own and shook.

“Paladin Tungsten Shield, me and my patrol were moving through this town and got hit by this group the Gunners,” his eyes trailed back to the other sounds of conflict going on, “we got separated, and when some of them showed up with spark grenades… well you can see how that worked.”

Should I want to dive head long in to a conflict between the Steel Rangers and a group of very well armed ponies? Probably not, I might live longer. Now that I think of it though, having more guns on my side would be a benefit.

“I could help reset their suits if their knocked out?” I offered, looking at the AMR on my back, “this should tear any Gunner apart.”

I wish I could read helmets better, really it would come in handy right about now. Though as he looked to me, the suit of a fallen comrade, and the weapons fire off in the distance. The paladin asked but one question, “Are you fit to operate a suit of armor? You won’t last long like that.”

Against what these Gunners had, anything more head on would tear my jumpsuit apart… with me inside none the less. Usually that kind of thing required full fledge training, and hours of prep work before even being inside the suit. Both of which I had plenty of already, but my little white lie of reading was quickly going to fall apart if I said that.

“I… can probably manage,” I glossed over that little detail and he went to one of the fallen suits.

“Good, then it’s time for a crash course.”

With a heave he picked it up to its feet and looked across the suit. It was dinged up, broken, damaged and blown halfway to hell… yet in its own light, a work of art and fine engineering. Perfect if you ask me. With a few moments silence he said what he needed to say to the body inside before turning back to me.

“Knight Rogue here was a wonderful member of the Rangers… young, driven, and determined to do his duty to its fullest,” I about waited for the helmet to start crying honestly, but I could understand the sentiment, “if it was his time to die today, then may you use his armor to haunt those that caused this.”

Honestly, how do you say No to something like that? I stepped up to the armor, and just below the neck collar read the stamped name plate of Rogue. It wasn’t something that was done all too often, but some rangers still made it a habit to have their name stamped to it. With a plug in from my PB I followed down the list of commands, before finally finding the Eject option.

With a groan the various locking mechanisms gave way and opened up along the back, there in the suit was one colt. Probably around the same age as me now that I look at it, and probably a small reason why Tungsten chose this suit. With a graceful horn I picked him out from the armor and laid the blood-stained body along his back as gently as I could. Once I was clear, the paladin went up to the corpse and watched over him. Somewhere in his silence, Paladin Tungsten was probably replaying everything that happened today and what he could have done differently. I know I would’ve been.

That’s what nailed the stallion, and took him out of the fight. In the neck there was a clean punch from what was likely an AMR, not the best of armors in this area especially for movement. Whelp, I can’t go in to battle with that type of opening. With a glow to my horn I held it close to the opening. It was a simple spell that any in my craft would have learned, not the most effective thing to use on the fly in combat. Unquestionably useless if you’re in the armor yourself, but for a quick patchwork after a test it’d work perfectly.

Metal stretched and formed over the hole that was created, sealing it up like the rest of the suit was designed to be. All earning me a moments glance from the Ranger that stood not far away. Now the next task, this one wasn’t exactly designed with unicorns in mind… hell none of them really were, but unicorns still had to work on em somehow. So, we knew what to do in the shop. Plucking the headpiece off to work on I used the same spell, pulling and forming at the metal on the helmet where the mane was designed to sit. There was just enough material there to work with to extend the mane shielding and… That was a tad hot from being molded!

Dumping a little of my water over the newly shaped plate, I slipped the helmet over. My horn wasn’t knocking on the side so it fit well enough to work. With a final look at the inside, I walked up from the back, dropped my bag, and slipped in. Okay, scratch that previous thought Rogue was a little bigger than me. If you’d been walking around in armor all day, I’d imagine you’d get pretty strong too. Thankfully my Pip-Buck fit in to this thing and was able to sync up with its systems.

The suits were designed with some leeway when it came to sizing, where they’d adjust in structure to fit the user. I’d give it a few hours or so and the plates would move a bit more to fit around my frame… you know, assuming I lived that long. ‘Let’s see here,’ I looked in to the built-in visor of the suit at what I would be trotting into battle with, ‘IF-100 Thunderhoof AMR… and an IF-86 Mk. C with an extended drum magazine.’

With my horn sheltered in the armored mane it took hold of the AMR I procured from the Gunners, as the rounds were pulled from it and placed in the hopper to the Thunderhoof. A pull of the bit later in my mouth feed, and the rounds for both guns were chambered ready to go. Tungsten stood there and looked at me once more, he wanted to ask questions, I could see it in his visor… kinda.

There are somethings a piece of metal and glass can’t hide though, and one of those was the tell tail sign that a pony is pondering a whole hell of a lot more than what he’s saying. Not dwelling on it too long, I plucked my actual bag from the ground and fixed it as best I could to the back of the armor. Never know when I might need that 10mm again.

“Ready to go, Paladin?” the small talk sure felt weird, considering never in my life did I think I’d be working with the rangers.

“Always… now about that crash course…” after a simple nod he turned towards the fight, “Follow my lead, let the suit carry you and don’t fight it, if it shoots at you then make it dead… anything else you’ll learn as you go.” Most of which to learn I already had under my belt… even that last part. His suit tore off further into town, and my hooves matched his own as we both dashed off to get his comrades.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from combat in a suit of power armor. Sure, when we tested them in the labs and such, and they were always some of the most beat up pieces of equipment imaginable. The rigorous testing, breaking, repairing, and retesting would do a number on any hardware. Had to make due with what you got. Typically, they were squeaking constantly from lack of grease, burned out matrixes that had to constantly be reset, and even the occasional servo that burned out completely got changed.

Though now here I was, running head long in to the fray with a Steel Ranger Paladin, against a group of enemies I knew nothing about besides that they could be some rather twisted souls. In a suit that was arguably better maintained in a wasteland than a bunch of us could do in a lab before it rained fire and torched a nation. Rogue certainly took care of his equipment, and these ponies were dead set on tarnishing its sheen.

Nothing a liberal application of lead couldn’t fix, right?

The first burst from the IF-86 took at least one of the Gunners’ heads clean off, thankfully helmets were still pretty light armor. On top of that, the E.F.S. of the suit was functioning flawlessly… and that was a lot of red on my screen!

A thump followed by the subsequent explosion may not have been enough to throw me, but it certainly gave the armor a run for its money as it lurched to the side. The pony responsible loaded up another grenade in his launcher, as I targeted with S.A.T.S. 78% chance hit on the head. Not bad for this gun really, a burst and he dropped before the launchers’ breach even closed.

Why did it seem they were all targeting me? The Gunners that had the rangers that still stood pinned down, suddenly found a very unique fascination with the colt fresh out of a stable. Rounds pinged off the plates of armor that covered my hide, the suit itself didn’t seem to be repairing at the moment but I’ll have to troubleshoot that later. You know, when I wasn’t getting shot at.

Armor integrity: 87%

Thanks for the update!

Tungsten was faring far better than myself, even over my own fire I could hear the steady racking of his autocannon as the windows of those buildings that surrounded us became littered with his shells. With another click to his gun, the shells went from blowing through the walls, to blowing up them and whatever pony was standing behind. Seriously, at what point do you think they’d just throw their hooves up against that kind of offence and leave?

A missile streaked over my head and landed next to Tungsten. While the paladin was lifted clear off the ground and over a mound of debris, I looked up and followed the streak. There in one of the windows I saw the tube poking over the edge. Too far for the rifle, not too far for the AMR. With the sights lined up in the window I waited, it’d only take one… Hi!

One missile pony down… many more to go.

Galloping over to the motionless armor, I watched the ambient glow of the repair talisman going to work. Holes were patched up, plates were rearranged, and the only thing it was missing was the sheen to its armor. What about the pony inside? “Paladin! You alive in there still?” don’t know how well he could have heard any of that with the rounds from a firefight going off, but it didn’t take long for him to get to his hooves.

“I’m alright…” Tungsten shrugged the hit off and got up on all fours, before looking back to what looked like an old playground, “Come on, I see friendlies.” With a hop, skip, and a jump. We made our way across the opening of fire to their post. “Crusader Cornwall!” Tungsten shouted out as we leapt over the crude embankment of debris they had set up.

The blue bars showed up on my E.F.S. I counted only about three standing, the same number on the ground, and probably twice that on the ground and likely not getting up again. Those that still stood were doing a hell of a job holding their line, if you could call it that, but who know how much they still had in them before being exhausted.

In a few moments, one of the three suits that shot back against the Gunners dipped away to answer him. Another round left his chamber, as he turned to Tungsten, “Reporting Paladin.”

All three of us hit the dirt, or sand in this case as another missile shot from overhead and took out a set of jungle gyms. Tungsten looked back at the trail of smoke and dumped at least a few dozen shells at it with his cannon. Peace through overwhelming fire power, gotta love it.

“Whose suits are down out of everyone here?”

The crusader pointed out to those I had already picked out from when we first approached. “Back Blast, Dustfire, and Pixie all have their matrixes fried,” hmm one of those names did not sound like the other, “we would try to but-”

With a hoof, Tungsten silenced him, “Say no more, you’ve done good keeping this up, let’s give them a reason to not mess with the Rangers,” with a nod Cornwall scampered off to the line, and the paladin turned his attention to me, “Can you get it done?” his tone fell a bit more somber, “Can you save them?”

Returning the same gesture, the crusader gave him, I looked to the three fallen rangers, “I’ll do my best.” With that I got to work. Only downside to all of this.

I’d have to get out.

‘This is bullshit!’ I yelled in my own head. It wouldn’t have done much good to do it out loud as I’d probably be the only one to hear it. Tungstens’ was easy enough to reboot, and with most of the same design going to every suit of armor it didn’t take much to get the first one back on their feet.

“Oh, hot damn! You did it,” Back Blast yelled as he got up to his hooves and joined in the fight. the red bars on my E.F.S. were still there, but they seemed to be dwindling at least.

Another round sparked from the slide over head as I hit the sand once more, slowly crawling my way to the next ranger out for the count. Their heavy incinerator one side may not have been the best choice for this place, but oh that light machine gun would do just nicely for the cause. I wasn’t sure if I could hear whimpering from inside the suit, or if it was just the wining of the metal from the playground set that was partly on fire now.

Either way, once Pixie got up what I could only guess might have been a mare, returned everything the Gunners threw at them before we arrived. With even more to spare, as her LMG poured out the rounds from its barrel. Alrighty, two down, one to go.

Dustfires’ was a little more complicated once I got it open. Not only had the matrix been shut down, but even the chemical pump for the combat drugs and healing potions had shorted. Oh, was that blood leaking? I quickly hit the side of the helmet with the grip of my pistol, trying to get any reaction out of them.

“Are you still breathing!” I yelled at them, as I got the chem pump fired up once more. Inserting one of my own potions, I got to work on the matrix as the magic did its thing.

It didn’t take long for the slightest movement to come from the helmet, “What?... What happened?” the ranger tried to look around, but I put a hoof to the helmet.

“Relax, you’re going to be alright, I’m resetting your suit,” alright open that function, scroll down to that setting… and click!

Three for three, not bad in a day’s work.

Dustfire got up with the twin IF-95 mortars, and with a feverish determination planted the rear hooves of the armor down on the ground and took aim. With a drop of the loaders and a clunk later from the propellant charge going off, the shells lobbed themselves clear across the distance to those that tried to fire pot shots at us.

The cloud of smoke from atop one of the buildings could have been a pony at one point or another, but not anymore. A few rounds were still exchanged with those that tried to fight on, but as the dust would settle it dwindled down in to nothing. The Steel Rangers had come out on top this day, just like they had often in their glory days.

The rangers around me checked over their own wounds, none of them paying much attention to the random stable pony that walked around in an ever-dirtier jumpsuit. While they did their own thing, I went back over to the suit and checked it over. Still even now, the repair talisman seemed to be on the fritz. Who knows how much damage Rogue had taken before he finally dropped. If the suit sustained enough damage, it might have just fried the talisman all together.

“Excuse me, you there,” my eyes turned and found one of the rangers galloping up to me, “I understand you’re the one who got our comrades armors back up and running, even our Paladins?”

“Yes… that’d be me,” I shrugged it off in a way, what was I supposed to do? Just let them die, “I happened to be in the neighborhood, looked like Paladin Tungsten needed a hoof.”

“A hoof indeed… I must thank you then for not only helping us, but saving him as well,” well that was mighty nice of them. If I had done something like this back before everything went to shit, I might have gotten a metal, but it’s a good deed never the- “now if you will please relinquish your Pip-Buck, and step away from that armor.”

… Come again?

“You might have to say that once more,” my head about balked at that 180 degree turn there, “I just helped you? All of you, and you’re going to try and steal now from me?”

“I don’t expect a stable dweller like yourself to understand,” was it just me or was this ranger starting to get very sneery with me? “It’s the Steel Rangers duty to protect and preserve all technology from years past, and as such, that includes what you are-”

“Crusader Bleak Burrow,” the low rumble of a voice came and cut the air that was growing between me and the ranger. In reality I wouldn’t have been able to do a thing, all I had was a 10mm, and no armor piercing rounds for it either. Though Tungsten stepped up to the Crusader with what could have been steam coming from his nostrils, “this stallion went out of his way to ensure the safety of not only myself, but also your fellow comrades… and you want to thank him in this way?”

“While I appreciate the assistance, Paladin,” he gestured to the armor and to my own tech, “both of these are relics that we are charged with protecting, is it not?”

“We protect technology yes, but many have forgotten that a long time ago ponies also fell under our protection,” funny I didn’t know power armor could shiver, and judging by the suits that were gathering around us. I’d say they were a lot more thankful for the help than Crusader Spineless here, “I think he has earned more than enough right to carry that Pip-Buck,” he looked to me and then to the suit, “as well as the armor.”

“But… But… that’s genuine Steel Ranger technology!”

“And if we have to take it back to base, you’ll be the one carrying it all the way there then,” I don’t know where their base was, but given how fast the stallion stopped in his tracks. It couldn’t be a walk in the park, “It’s been damaged beyond all sense of us trying to repair it, who knows… maybe he could make some use of it.”

If I can get it working that is, there was more than just a screw loose when it came to this armor. On the bright side, I was in a world of parts it seemed, “Much appreciated, Paladin.” Once more I shook his hoof, and could only imagine the fumes coming from the Crusader. With that all too eagerly my hooves stepped in my armor, and the system came back online around me.

“Say nothing of it, maybe in time… we’ll meet again,” a tip of his head later, and Tungsten turned to the rest of his rangers, “Alright everypony! Back to base.” With that the group started making their way out of town, leaving me to do some scavenging of my own.

***

Only downside with their fire power, it didn’t leave much in terms of a body to actually search. Still, a few extra AMR rounds, some 5.56, and a healing potion or two never hurt anypony. I looked in a different direction that the Rangers had gone, and over viewed the map that was built in to my visor tab.

Most of the surrounding towns from Maresport were shanty even during the war. Hard to imagine what they’d even become in a world like this. So, with the best of hope possible I once again looked to the road the Rangers went, and turned opposite of it… If that’s how they thanked ponies who saved their life, I didn’t want to run in to any outside of Tungstens’ view. With the town now starting to pass me by, and the smallest sense of direction, I managed to look over the suits systems.

‘Let’s see… scrolling through settings of the suit… ah there we are,’ It’d been a while since I had stepped hoof in one of these things, could you blame me for mentally going over the steps? ‘begin system diagnostic.’

Diagnostic in progress… please stand by…

Repair talisman: Offline…

Chemical pump: Offline…

Armor integrity: 68%

“Yep… you’re a piece of junk,” the paladin was right, this thing would probably cost half my soul to fix up all the way. I’d probably find the parts to do so in time, I knew what to look for at least. Best thing about it though, it was a piece of tech I understood, “you’re a piece of junk, and you’re just perfect.”

Footnote: Level Up.

New Perk: “Power up! Power Armor MK. I”- Congratulations! You’ve obtained a piece of old-world technology in the form of Ranger Power Armor. Damage resistance, Energy resistance, and Radiation resistance are all increased. Wear it with pride, Ranger.

New Perk: “Bronze Chariot”- More guns, more fun! Utilizing a battlesaddle, you’re able to carry one standard and one heavy weapon.