Fallout Equestria: Ballad of a Rogue Ranger

Chapter seven: Stoking the flames

Okay… so the definition of town had changed it seemed in the recent decades.

The one road encampment ground itself out of what looked as a dried up river bank, with part of the town stretching to the pre-war town that resided on the shore, a fitting name then for the place. Regardless of how much the place looked like it was held together by duct tape and hope, having some establishment had to mark it on the map for what one could call a town these days.

For all to see there was the bar, the loud on goings of ponies inside who probably had a few too much gave that much away. A small hotel of sorts made out of what was once a proud seafaring ship, now rusted heap of scrap on the banks edge. While in the rough center seemed what I’d imagine was a small market, from the various stalls posted up along either side of the wall. Of course, with me and Tumble reaching this place at dusk, nothing was open to turn in these goods.

Though no matter the time of day, one thing stayed true. That constant stare I got from the few folks walking around the town, seriously it’s like they never seen power armor before. Then again, given the news that I’d heard, it was the Ranger Reputation that they were known for. Those that did get close without realizing quickly put an extra kick in their steps to put some distance between us.

“Weird, it’s like I can feel the target on my back…” sarcasm got the best of me, but I hoped the mare would be able to pick out a laser dot if there was one.

“Well as you should know by now, Rangers are either feared or hated in these parts…” Tumble answered, her pistol in its holster unlatched and at the ready in case of trouble. “Usually both.”

Thank you, my wonderful travel companion, for telling me what I already put together… for now I didn’t see any actual arms pointing my direction. Just some very judgmental stares. Staring I could deal with, heavy caliber rounds I’d rather avoid. As we walked though it didn’t seem to get any better, sure the town might be small, but the number of ponies looking like they were about to gun us down made it feel miles long.

“State your business,” a pony called out from their porch.

If he had a star, and a cow pony hat, I’d called the earth pony sheriff.

The long handle bar mustache the colt wore went all too well with the big iron on his hip. By the looks of it an IF-17 B model, the precursor to the IF-18. Either way, this ponies 17 model was still packing .44 rounds. If he had the right ones loaded, my head was coming clean off after a few shots.

“Not looking for trouble,” Tumble piped up, as she looked to the sides of us, I’d hope to see if we were being flanked.

“Well Rangers are always looking for something, and trouble is always on the menu for em…” with a flick of his leg, the holster unbuckled the strap and made it ready for action as he pulled it out in one swift motion. “So, what’s your business, ranger…” the colt asked past the grip.

I really am starting to repeat myself… maybe I should just make a recording, “Not a ranger,” that garnished about the same curious glare I’d got from Tumble when we first met, “helped a few of them, and they gave me a gift… a very nice gift.”

It took a few moments, a few longer than I may have liked, but never the less the sheriff held his gun there for some time before finally holstering it once more. Maybe it was the state of the armor that gave it away, or that I had a less than Ranger looking mare by my side, “Sorry about that… Rangers-”

“Yes, yes, are looked on rather sourly now… I heard,” I jumped the gun and finished for him, “sorry, been getting guns pointed at me a lot lately for wearing a little extra protection.” Hmm, was it just me, or did Tumble seem to flinch after I’d said that?

“I’d get used to that if I were you,” the older colt snickered for a moment before taking out a cigar from his vest. “Welcome to Drybank then… what brings ya to this humble slice of shit?”

Colorful vocabulary… “Looking for someone actually,” I answered while looking around the area, there didn’t seem much to be open now at the time, and I doubt any pony or creature would be willing to talk to what looked like one of those iron clad soldiers knocking at their door. “Someone who left my stable… some time ago… violet eyes, pale coat… mint green tail and mane?”

The sheriff, really what else was I supposed to call him? Looked to the sky, the ground, and every which way as he thought there in the open. Finally, after some time his hooves threw up in the air, “Can’t help ya there, many ponies pass through these parts, you kinda just all blend the faces into one another…” he mused and lit a match.

“Fair enough…” yeah, it was probably a lost cause in the end, really, I didn’t know when she had left the stable, though I couldn’t imagine my chamber holding out much longer than hers. It had to be somewhat recent.

“I’d suggest the bar,” the scruffy colt said after taking a few puffs from his cigar, and blowing circles in the air, “most ponies tend to focus around them, so if anywhere, they might have a little extra word for ay.”

With a turn of my head I saw the local salon once again, and I had to admit, it was a lively place. Who knows the colt might have an idea there in after all? With a tip of my helmet to him, the sheriff went along his duty. Smoking his cigar, and watching over his town… at least I think he was appointed.

Tumble and I walked the streets closer to the bar, the few ponies there out to see us did seem a little more at ease with our presence. Okay, my presence, let’s be real here. I guess if the local law pony was good with us being around, then so was every other resident.

Then again, that news hadn’t spread to the bar quite yet.

The rickety doors to the salon opened, and almost instantly I could have dropped a feather and been deafened by the landing. Every eye glared at me and my partner here as we entered like a couple of outlaws. Who knows, Tumble here could be an outlaw for all I knew and they might just think I’m her bodyguard. No matter, both of us watched every eye turn to us the moment we passed the doorway.

Though, as fast as they watched, each pair of eyes soon turned toward their drinks, cards, or the mare singing on stage… oh scratch that, not a mare, female gryphon. Still, she sounded lovey, first real music I’d heard in over a century. Talking over being scorned by a disheartened lover… amazing after nearly two centuries they couldn’t come up with new material to write a song about.

“Welcome to the Dust Bowl,” that sounded like sandpaper coming out of his throat. How had he not keeled over yet? “What can I get cha?”

Could I have taken a seat, probably. Would I have broken it, oh absolutely. With that mindset, I stood as Tumble slid in to a seat of her own, turning to the bar keep. There wasn’t much of a selection. Most the labels, if you could call them that, looked like they had been cooked up in a bathtub. Shit, some of them probably had actually.

But booze was booze, and if there was one way to break the ice, it was with liquor.

I brought out one of the rifles the gunners had donated to my cause and showed it to the bar keeper. Instantly himself, and a few of the other patrons there about went googly eyed at the well-cared for arm. “Your vendors aren’t out to trade for caps,” I replied, hoping none of those next to me were stupid enough to try and steal it from my hooves, “on that note, would you trade a gun for some drink and a chat?”

Hesitantly he seemed to ponder it over, probably hoping I’d throw something else there in the mix. Though once he saw all he was going to get was a good rifle, his hooves reached out and grabbed the gun before quickly bringing out two cracked pints. “Stable pony, eh?”

Me and Tumble looked at one another, then the mare started to snicker, “really, it’s pretty obvious… who throws a grade “A” gun like that on the table for some booze and information?”

“Okay… you got me,” I held up a hoof to the both of them… I was learning here mind you! “Yes, stable pony, and to answer before it comes up, no not a ranger… just looking for someone.”

“Shit… took the words right out ah my mouth,” he replied while filling our glasses with what I could only hope wasn’t piss. “We get all kinds a folk out here, anything in particular?”

“Stable pony… as you’d probably imagine,” I replied, taking the drink to my visor before popping it open. I wasn’t much of a drinker back in the day, but in the name of the Crystal Empires’ frosty peaks, that tasted like shoe shine and hoof polish! The first sip went down my throat as if it was lava, and I struggled to hold in my cough. Tumble on the other hoof, brought half the pint down in one go. “Were your parents by chance Diamond Dogs?”

“What you mean?” she asked while gingerly sipping the latter half of the drink.

“Sorry to say it chief, but stable ponies we don’t run in to all that often round here…” just my luck wasn’t it. The bartender brought out the bottle and refilled Tumbles glass once more, not even bothering to get mine for with what little was finished from it, as he waited on me with the bottle itself, “most of you trade in your jumpsuits for something better in the first day, so it makes you kinda hard to spot… unless you talk to em.”

“Well… it was worth a shot at least,” I took another sip from whatever this concoction was, and pondered my next move in near silence.

From there Tumble joined me in the same endeavor as we enjoyed our drinks, and the bartender went tending to a few more patrons. How much had the roadmap I’d painted of the country changed since I was last in it? Better question would be where the hell I’d go after this place, if I was at a lost, then she probably was as well out here.

Plans required concentration and a clear mind, then again, given my situation I think I earned to indulge just a little bit. Steadily, the liquid in my glass started to drain, and just like clockwork the bartender came by to refill it. Hopefully he wasn’t putting this on my tab. Though it looked as if that gun was worth its weight in gold for the amount he came by for myself and the mare.

“You gonna finish that?” Tumble asked, eying the remains of my third glass.

“Calm down, you got your own,” I pulled my glass away from the mare. She simply looked up at the faceless helmet, grinned, and started to snicker.

We’d only been here maybe an hour or so, and already she had gone through two, maybe three times what I had. One can understand wanting to drink your sorrows away, and this world probably had a lot of those, but sheesh… I didn’t want to have to scrub puke out of armor plates.

After topping off the glasses of a few other patrons, the keep found his way back to us. Good thing too, she was due for a refill. “However, come to think of it,” he groaned while pondering the next few thoughts it looked like, “there is another place not too far from here… Pasture Falls, from what I heard a few stable ponies had made their way through there over time.”

Just like that, the point popped up on my map as he said it. Gotta love that timing really, I looked over the map and could see it was another dozen plus miles or so from me. Then again, who knows what’d I’d encounter in the space between here and there. Maybe there’d be something to help the suit along, maybe I’d get blown to pieces, ahh all the possibilities.

Gotta love it.

“Appreciate it,” I pulled out a cap or two from my actual stash and dropped it on the counter. Sure, he may have had his night made with the amount of the actual weapon, but call it a force of habit to tip.

A few shouts from outside however broke whatever song that gryphon was singing on the makeshift stage. All the amplified voices carried quite well through the night, and brought them well in to the receptors of the suit. Both myself and Tumble looked at one another and took a quick drink from our glasses before looking outside through a cracked window… okay, she probably took a few gulps.

For sure there was some Diamond Dog in those veins…

There out in the main street of the town… or I guess the only real street, stood another set of power armor. Each one armed with a mini gun, and one with a belt-fed combat shotgun. Not the typical wears of a ranger, never the less still effective. Scouting party? Maybe, but they seemed to be in a pretty heated argument with a colt over his weapon, and it didn’t seem to be lessening at all.

“And technology of that kind is ours to procure,” one ranger answered the pleads of the colt, thankfully they hadn’t been paying attention to the windows of the salon there in front of them, “wouldn’t you prefer your weapons to help the betterment of the wasteland, for the betterment of the country itself?”

“Fuck the wasteland!” the colt shouted, rather proudly I might add, “I fixed this damned caster from the ground up, stock to barrel, ya ain’t taken it because its shiny and shit!”

Both rangers looked at one another past the pane of their visors for a moment, before the silent agreement was made. With a single turn of their barrel one round from each would be soldier went in to the leg of the colt that stood against them. As the colt fell, I got to see where all the hatred for this suit came from first hoof. Having one more or less ask for my PB is one thing, flat out shooting a guy for his gun? There had to be a line drawn somewhere…

Granted the liquor hadn’t been in my system long enough to blame for such actions… okay that was a lie, I could already feel half the blood rushing from my head. Though that did give me a good excuse. With a steady push of the swinging doors, I stepped outside in full armor and looked upon the other clad figures there with me. AMR to minigun, carbine to shotgun… oh who would come out in these plays…

“Excuse me there gentlecolts…” I pranced up into view along the porch to the salon, “what seems to be the issue here?”

Maybe the liquor did hit me a little harder than I thought already, instantly each of their guns were aimed at me, and they didn’t look as amused with my antics as I thought they would be. Though at the very least, the colt they were arguing with was making his way out of the firing line. Never the less, here was a few guns with more barrels than I’d hope pointed at me.

“You, ranger, state your identification!” minigun and shotty called out from their built-in speaker system… to a sober pony that would have been intimidating.

“Not a ranger, just a very concerned citizen…” a snap of my head from inside the helmet help settle some of the nerves firing off… had it really been that long since I’d had a drink? … yeah, about a century and a half or so, stupid question. Those guns didn’t seem to be dropping any time soon. So, I did the only logical thing possible.

S.A.T.S. fired up and it must have been because it was a long gun, but the carbine was sure hitting home in this! Two, three… nope let’s make it four bursts to be on the safe side, and sure enough the 5.56 slammed home in to the duel armed Ranger as he tried to cycle his minigun. Each round tore clean in to his leg and broke apart the servo in the knee joint. Shattering it and causing his first several rounds of 5mm to dig in to the ground, before he stopped and looked up at me in astonishment.

That was, until his partner took aim as the spell wore off. Granted his minigun might not have done too much damage to a normal suit, but it’d shred mine if I gave it the time to do so. A few .44 rounds that clacked along the armored shell and drew its attention. Just in time for the AMR to take proper aim.

One well-placed shot, and down the sternum of the torso, the round tore clean through the plating and in to the soft flesh underneath. It must have been the close proximity, sure, but never the less. The pony inside dropped like a sack of recycled cans after he was hit.

Duel armed here stopped as his other hoof finally picked him back up to face me, the AMR clearly drawn in on his suit while he took aim. There we stood for what had to have been at least a literal minute. Though not long after that, he looked to his fallen comrade, and back to me. He had to be checking my weapons, maybe the suit itself, something to identify. Though the only thing he likely could see was the name of a fallen soldier.

Minigun and shotty verses AMR and carbine… those kinds of odds he didn’t like.

“You…? How’d you manage that?” the ranger asked in what sounded like bewilderment.

“Eh, let’s just call it luck, shall we?” I cocked back the fresh round to my carbine, and took aim once again at the ranger, “now… scram…”

He wasn’t just out gunned, a minigun spoke volumes on the battlefield, he was also outmatched. Maybe it was just him, but landing a clean shot with a standard infantry weapon and dropping a suit of power armor looked as if it shocked him a bit. With a hightail of his hooves, the suit of power armor turned and limped as fast as it could in to the wastes of the night, out of sight, and out of mind. As I looked to the shattered remains of the suit I took down, I thought to the body inside.

This pony died… and for what? To uphold an idea, of holding tech above other lives? Yeah, that seemed wrong in the end… but did the one inside the suit know it was wrong? Some did, Tungsten knew they had to protect ponies as well. Though, how often would I come across ponies with the same idea as him. How often would I come across ponies who would let me hold on to this armor, without a little ballistic incentive.

“Thank… you,” the plasma caster colt answered as he got to his hooves.

Tumble approached and reloaded her .44, before lending the colt a shoulder to lean on, “You okay?”

“I was shot in the leg, so what do you think?” he wasn’t wrong really, and while myself and Tumble looked at one another, the colt we’d just saved looked towards another building with a red cross across it’s door, “Docs always open, I can get there myself… but thank you for the help.”

“Don’t mention it,” I answered as I watched him reach in to his saddle bags and pull out a small pouch.

“Ain’t much, but a good deed deserves a good reward.”

With a toss of the pouch to me the colt started hobbling towards the door, as I looked inside. So, helping another pony in need from some wasteland thugs garnished you a hoof full of caps in the end. Well, at least some had a sense of thanks in this world. Right after the colt had left, another colt turned up to myself and Tumble, one a little more familiar.

“You got rid of em, that’s for sure,” the sheriff exclaimed with a tip of his hat.

“All In a day-” Tumble started, before he finally finished.

“… for now, that is,” both our eyes looked towards the colt as he stood there and pushed his hat back. Watching in the direction the ranger had taken off in, “rangers don’t take too kindly to others getting in their business, so if there’s a threat to their order, they’ll come looking for it.”

Tumble stepped up to me, holstering her gun as we both stared at the sheriff, “You’re worried they’ll be back.”

“Well no shit,” the colt spit to the side of the road, and quickly took a note of the now darkened sky, “listen, thank ya for getting rid of them, but if you stick around it’ll just mean trouble for us… stay the night sure, but I want cha gone come the morning, clear?”

Both me and Tumble looked at one another. I couldn’t argue with that really, he had to protect his town, and at the end of the day I was just a guest here. With a small nod of my head I went to the power armor I’d fell and brought up its command matrix from my suit, the colt inside may have had the wrong ideals, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help me in some way.

The locks and latches gave way with a creek and along the back to suit opened up, revealing the partly shredded corpse inside. Damn… so this is what it really did to the wearer inside? It looked like somepony had turned his chest cavity into confetti. With a steady horn I pulled the stallion out, he was a heavy one, but nothing compared to the suit I’d have to pull.

“So where do you put the dead?” I asked the colt in charge, and for a moment there he just stared at me, before erupting in to laugher.

What? What's so funny about that?

“Yeah…” Tumble came up to my armor and set a hoof on the shoulder, looking to the body I held in the aura, “I’d just leave him out here off the road, somepony will take care of it.”

So… that’s how it was? You died in this world, and you were thrown in to the side ditch of a town. Along with the rest of the trash… there were probably worst fates I’d imagine. With a release from my horn the body slumped in an alley, as my appendage grabbed hold of the armor and picked it up carrying it alongside me, as the mare hopped to the opposite side. While we made our way to the hotel of the settlement, and the burning in my horn started to grow from the weight. I couldn’t help but see some sort of surprise in the mare that traveled with me.

***

Five starts this wasn’t, but it was a bed that at least was mostly clean of mildew and grime. Probably one of the better places I’d hunkered down in since leaving the stable. Now that the lanterns were lit, and no pony was trying to shoot me, I could finally get down to business.

The spent suit of armor I took from the ranger may have been shot to all hell from that one round, but there was still some use to it in the end. Even if the round damaged the repair talisman… figures. At least one or two things were looking ripe for the picking, and with a careful horn I picked at the side structure of the suit, trying my best to get at the gun.

Rogue had taken care of his armor quite well, to the point of perfection in terms of upkeep… this one not so much, some of those bolts that held the saddle on were rusted to no end. At least this time I wasn’t working on it in silence like I had done in the warehouse.

“How’d you know where to hit him them anyway?” Tumble asked from her bed in the shared room, “I mean granted 5.56 could go through that plating eventually, but it’d take skill to drop them in a few bursts.”

From behind the grease on my face a smile grew ever wider, the suit was starting to budge finally, and one of the bolts was already out. “Well back before everything went downhill, I worked for one of the Ministries…” why her eyes were growing wider I hadn’t a clue, it’s not like they let just anyone get a place in one of the stables… at least I think, “the M.W.T. to be exact, oddly enough doing projects like this.”

“Wait… did you make the rangers armor!?” and right about now her eyes should have fallen out of their sockets.

“Yeah not the first time I’d been asked that,” That was a warm memory, “but no… I helped refine it, however, I worked with a number of projects,” a few more turns later garnished me the next few bolts falling from their place, “mostly with munitions and heavier weapons for the troops, power armor I was mostly with testing and trying different modifications.”

“So, you made the rangers armor,” she repeated herself flatly, and with the most interested look watched as I worked on the suit.

“Helped innovate… difference there,” I responded and continued trying to get at what I wanted. Sure, I might not be able to use the matrixes, but there was something I could get. “Certainly made me more comfortable with heavy munitions…” with a twist I showed her the cutie mark I’d earned after playing with a few chemicals as a colt. The bursting firework shell might have led me to a life of entertaining ponies with fantastic displays in a different life… you know, if there hadn’t been a major war. Though one thing was making me curious about this mare, “Question for you now…”

“Probably an answer.”

“Is there a reason you’re still sticking around?” Wow! That sounded a lot less rude in my mind, “I don’t mean it like that! It’s nice having some company, but I just figured you’d split after reaching town, especially with all the trouble I’ll come across for this thing,” my hoof tapped the side of the torso plating.

With a rock of her flank on the bed, the mare twiddled her hooves together. If she was trying not to look embarrassed it wasn’t working all that well, “If you can’t tell… I’m kinda a drifter,” it didn’t take her long to read the best duh I could give, “yeah, the name’s all too appropriate. Actually, that’s how I got it in the first place,” you show me yours and I’ll show you mine reigned true I suppose. Turning her back side to me, I saw the coiled-up underbrush that birthed her name, “Couple of caravan workers found me in the remains of a wrecked wagon, bodies all around, the usual… took me in, and raised me.”

Hmm… touching back story, and one that I can probably picture happening all too often in this world, “I am sorry to hear that,” I finally pried the saddle off and the minigun to boot, leaving it to rest on the ground for a moment as I went over to my suit to work on it all the same, “So, you’ve been moving your whole life then?”

“Yep!” she sounded mighty proud of that fact, probably one of the more experienced ponies I’d imagine out there, “but to answer you … you’re moving from place to place it seems searching for that mare, and it’s not too often you find a pony with a head on their shoulders.”

That there sounded like a proposition to me, “I’m gonna guess you’d like to continue tagging along?” I asked with a smirk, and removed the saddle from my own suit, dropping the carbine and the AMR from their frames.

“If you’ll have me… you get someone to watch your back, and I get to do what I’ve always been doing,” she beamed there on the bed, probably one of the few smiles this room had seen. “Plus, it’s smart to follow the armored pony who’s carrying a big gun.”

The two of us laughed there for a few moments on that. Having extra arms turned a regular raider in to a new level now called gunners, and gave the steel rangers nearly impunity it seemed when dealing with other creatures… unless they were facing another in power armor.

“Can’t argue with ya on that one really,” I gave another chuckle while attaching the frame from the ranger I dropped to my suit, as the minigun soon found its own place there on the armors’ side. Then with the plucking of my horn the AMR found it’s home right on the side opposite. Why that ranger hadn’t been more armed, I couldn’t guess still… but it gave me the upper hoof in the end, so could I really complain?

With both those now connected, I picked up the carbine and looked it over… a fine weapon sure, carefully taken care of by the ranger that once owned it. How many Rogue had killed with it I’ll never know, but could somepony else probably put it to better use? With a toss, it landed in the mares’ lap as she looked down at it and then back to me.

“Easier to watch ones’ back if you have more rounds in the magazine,” I winked at her, and just like that she hugged the weapon to her chest. If I hadn’t been in the room, she might have started cuddling with it.

“Guessing you don’t mind if I hang out with ya?”

“One condition,” her ears perked for a second, “don’t sell it… it meant something to somepony, and he took care of it well.”

Closely her eyes waded over the firearm, taking in all the TLC that it was given. “One like this? I’d never dream of it,” if I had to guess, I’d say her eyes were starting to tear up. Must have been awhile since anyone did something kind to the mare, “Thank you, Wild.”

I however, shrugged my shoulders at the gesture. It was going to help me in the end as well, but if she ever did decide to leave, it’d give her a better set of odds out there too. “Oh, don’t mention it, you did seem pretty outgunned there with the gunners.”

“Hey! I’ve gotten good with this gun,” she happily pulled out her pistol.

“Definitely better than I’d ever hope to be with one,” my attention turned back to the task at hoof, “I got new toys too…” a few clicks of my horn to make the connections to the mouth bit and just like that I could hear the slight hum of the matrix settling in the new armament.

Taking a step back I looked at the marvel of tech there I had patched up. Yes, there were still dings and scrapes from when I helped the mare out of a bind, but I also managed to get some of the previous ones patched up in no time before working on the weapons. It was coming together alright, but I still had a thing or two on the shopping list.

“The bartender said Pasture Falls, correct?” she asked while settling into the mattress, and just as suspected, between her hooves rested the carbine as if it were a teddy bear.

“That’s the plan,” with a yawn and a stretch later, I found my neck cracking in a few places I didn’t know existed.

Curling up on the mattress myself, my eyes trailed over the suit and started thinking of just what else I should add to that list. A list that could wait till tomorrow to continue as I did my path. Though in the end today was pretty fruitful, I got to practice some more getting shot at, pissed off the rangers and gunners just a tad, upgraded another part of my suit… and, I made a friend.

Footnote: Level up.

New Perk: “Iron Chariot”- With a little grease from that horn of yours, and a well-rounded knowledge of everything armor-ish. Your Power Armor is now capable of holding a heavy weapon on either side of it.