Fallout Equestria: A Wastelander Tale

Fallout Equestria: A Wastelander Tale, Chapter Sixty One

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Thankfully Plasma and Spell were able to fill in on anything I clearly didn't understand as I explained the situation in better detail. Which was a big help since Elder Honeycrisp had several questions, almost all about the tech I had seen.

"Sounds unlike Paladin Shortcake to be so careless." Elder Honeycrisp said, clearly annoyed. "Then again she might have been prioritizing the relics she already had in her care. That and how could she have known about the tech hidden in that proto-stable… I wish she was still around, maybe convince her to help is with this conflict."

Star Paladin Radish let out a huff. "She was always too much like her mother, headstrong and unwilling to change her mind once a decision was made. Getting her to stand down during the schism was a miracle in itself if anything."

Honeycrisp let out a defeated sigh, the mare clearly having talked about subject many times before. "You can say that twice, If you weren't her father, I'm sure she would have started a bloodbath in this bunker." The elder then turned to me, almost apologetically as she said. "It's a shame you were treated the way you were by our brothers and sisters, but if I were in her position, I'd likely throw a bomb collar on you too."

"Realy?" I said, cocking an eyebrow, then turned to my friends. "You hear that."

"Lottery, my family are slavers, bomb collars are prized possessions to them." Spell said, looking a bit ashamed.

Cold Trails shrugged. "If the Enclave had such tech, they'd probably use it too, and kill you as soon as you're no longer useful.

Looking over to Plasma for some support, but she just rolled eyes at me.

"Right, Steel Ranger." I said feeling defeated, then returned my attention to Elder Honeycrisp. "Well putting aside the fact that everypony out here is some form of shitty, would you be willing to offer us some aid, or at least let us have an anti-magic device?"

Honeycrisp tapped on the holotable, bringing up a map of the region, but in translucent blue, which was nice. "If what you say is true, and we have little reason to doubt what you say, then it's not an issue of whether we would be willing or not." She tapped a few more buttons on the holotable, and several markers appeared in read. One I recognized as Ursa's Rest, then the ruins that had been infested with raiders, along with Dead Ponies Pass, New Unity, Elysium, and even Naysayer Manor. "It's a matter of that we must aid you. Some of what you have told us matches the reports from our scouts, and together they fill in a grim picture."

"And this is why it was a mistake to open the bunker to savages. If we had kept this place a secret, them-" Senior Scribe Cobbler began to chastise the elder, but stopped when she shot him a nasty glare.

"Then they would never find out about it." Honeycrisp said coldly. "Wasn't that the same tactic the Elder of the chapter outside of Fillydelphia used? And all it took was for several scribes getting captured for that plan to fall apart. Oh, and let's not forget that Redeye didn't have a mind control gun. This is exactly the problem with the Steel Rangers, using over a hundred year old tactics in a rapidly changing age. It's only recently that we learned that Redeye had developed a bypass flamer. By Celestia's glorious cunt, those things would have decimated the ranger before we could develop countermeasures, and by then Redeye would have claimed a chapters worth of power armor for himself."

Elder Honeycrisp took a deep breath and turned her attention back to me before continuing. "It's adapt or die, and we Applejack Rangers have chosen to adapt. Let Grizzly Deal know that we will take her up on her offer. But… we will hold onto the tech, and we will be the ones who decide what will be used."

"But we need-" I began to protest, but Honeycrisp raised her hoof up, telling me to be quiet.

"As talented as Plasma and Spell seem to be, I rather trust my own scribes in developing a weapon to counter mind control. Instead I'll have an outpost be set up in Ursa's Rest, where we will conduct the research, and offer any technical aid if necessary." She then eyed the Senior scribe and Star Paladin. "I'll also leave the command of this bunker to these two old farts, and have them coamb through the vault for any useful tech. I'll be leading an attachment of rangers to take part in this war."

Before the two rangers could protest, Honeycrisp spoke up loudly. "The decision has been made!" Quieting down a little, she continued. "This is a situation that requires swift action, or risks our enemy gaining too much power before we are ready for them. Anyways, this is exactly the reason we rangers exist for. Technology such as the mezmetron must not be left in the hooves of a mad pony. Steal or Applejack, the mission remains the same, we protect ponies by safeguarding the tech in which they could greatly harm pony kind with. Do you disagree?"

Scribe Cobbler seemed to gain confidence, though still looked uptight and disappointed. "I can't argue with your logic, as this situation is the epitome of why we must be so strict about the relics."

Star Paladin Radish nodded with a slight smile on his muzzle. "No, no, you're more than correct. And so much pain could have been avoided if we rangers hadn't been dead set on hiding in our hole in the ground and guarding toasters like a dragon with its hoard."

Honeycrisp then pressed another button on the holotable, turning it off. "So that's it. it's going to take a day or so to sort out who will be going with me, as well as deal with the wastelanders outside our doors, then the march to Ursa's Rest…" she then raised an eyebrow at me. "That is unless Grizzly Deal is willing to help us with the matter of transportation."

I looked over at Cold Trails. "How many sky carts does Grizzly currently have?"

"More than enough to move the refugees out of here if that's what you're asking." He then smiled at the elder. "We do have several Flying Troop Transport M3's, they were specifically made for moving Steel Ranger around. All they lack are heavy guns for the gunnery seats."

"That would be convenient, as the ones we have are all disassembled." Honeycrisp said.

"Wait, you have your own flying troop transportation!?" Cold asked in surprise.

The elder nodded. "How do you think the Steel Rangers were able to organize in the early years? Is not like pegasus were barred from the Steel Rangers during the war. Back then we even attempted to contact the pegasus back then, but the Enclave had taken over the pegasus government and placed a quarantine on any pony that was below the clouds. Meaning they would isolate and execute any pony that came up. We lost a lot of our pegasus brothers and sisters before we realized what had happened. Many more died to radiation poisoning trying to save our stranded brothers and sisters by flying them to safety."

Cold looked as though he deflated a bit, standing unsteady on his prosthetics. "I… I didn't know."

"That was two hundred years ago, and those who are to blame are long dead. Or at least we hope they're dead. With the wasteland the way it is, you can never know." She said with a slight chuckle. "Anyways, we got four FTT M2's, and five vertibucks in storage, along with more than enough heavy guns and ammo. But putting them back together may be a problem."

"Right, I doubt any of you are well studied in aeronautics, and even one bolt out of place could be fatal." Spell Commented, and then looked at Cold. "I know that most of the pegasus are not friendly with other ponies, but some should be willing to."

Cold shook his head. "There's a few who can, but are not willing. I mean, maybe a mechanic might help, but their job was maintenance, not taking an aircraft apart and putting it back together. Such education was kept for the upper class, you know, rich kids who wanted a trophy degree, and almost all of them are in the pegasus first faction." He then paused and then face hoofed.

"What?" I asked.

Taking a deep breath, he then said one name. "Dancing Skies"

Plasmas eyes widened, "That right! She and I got to talking about acano tech mechanical engineering when we were part of the breeding stockades!" She then slammed her hoof over her muzzle as everypony fell silent. Slowly she pulled out her canteen and took a sip. "S… sorry, lost control for a moment."

The most confused out of everypony was the young elder. "B.. breeding what now?"

Then Spell Circuit, the one pony she didn't want to know about her whoring, then asked. "I thought the raiders didn't have any pegasus slaves?"

Plasma turned a beet red as she tried to hide her face behind her beautifully curly mane.

So, after taking a sip from my own canteen to stop me fantasising about a breeding stockade, I decided to salvage this cluster fuck. "Let's get back on subject, about-"

The elder spoke up, cutting me off. "No, I'd like an explanation. What happened to you scribe, I noticed the scar on your face, but was it from a raider attack?"

I looked at Plasma, who seemed more uncomfortable than before. "You don't have to, it's not important right now."

She sighed. "You know what…" she took a sip from her canteen. "I don't care anymore, well I do, but it's not like it matters." She then turned her attention to elder Honeycrisp. "About over a month ago, after wandering the wasteland as an exile, I was captured by raiders. You should know what they do to their prisoners, and I was with them for over a month."

Honeycrisp looked down at the table, seemingly uncomfortable herself. "I'm… sorry to hear that. It must have been horrible…. We should have been there for you. We… we should never leave our own behind like that."

"But it happened, and we must all live with it." Plasma let out a long sigh, and took a sip from her canteen. "But right now we got more pressing matters." She then scratched her chin, clearly thinking for a long moment. "If it's Dancing Skys, then there might be a problem. From what I learned about her, she really doesn't like to be told what to do, unless you put a leash on her. I may be cursed, but she's a real deal freak, and has some weird fantasies." My friend then returned her gaze to the elder with a smile. "Say, how many male knights are on a breeding cue, possibly ones waiting for an outside chapter to come through?"

Elder Honeycrisp's eyes went wide. "You don't mean…" she then sighed. "Truthfully, too many. It's not like the gene pool for this chapter is getting too thick, but the Brothers and Sisters thing is not far off from becoming literal."

"Thought so, almost half my chapter were my third or fourth cousins. Just make sure you bring a few of your more… aggressive stallions along." Plasma requested.

Placing two hooves on her face, Honeycrisp then said. "You know what, I give up, I'll bring several of our more energetic knights along. Maybe then they will stop trying to court me if some other mare catches their fancy. Anyways, you should go. I have a lot to do… and think about."

With that the Elder pushed herself away from the table, and trotted off out of the room.

Senior Scribe Cobbler too backed up. "I still think this is a mistake, in the long run, but it is clear we must stop this misuse of arcano-tech. Lothe as I am to admit it, you scribe Plasma, and Elder Honeycrisp have a point. Maybe we were too focused on protecting the relics of our ancestors, and not focusing on who we were protecting the relics from. Because of that, we are now in this situation."

The scribe then left out a different door.

Last was Star Paladin Radish, who let out a huff. "So much change is happening so fast, and too many of our brothers and sisters are lost to the madness. If only Star Paladin Applesauce was still with us, then we would not be in the mess we are in right now. Now let me escort you out, though we may be opening ourselves up to outsiders, we still can't let you wander into places you don't belong. Cobbler triple locked the bunker's self-destruct terminal just because he's worried that some wastelander my try to use it."

I raised an eyebrow, "you have a self-destruction button?"

"Well of course." Star Paladin Radish said, "if we can't keep dangerous tech out of wastelander's hooves, then we must destroy it… even if it means we all must die. Now let's go."

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There were still ponies crowding outside the bunker, yelling and making demands to uncaring power armored ponies. Well maybe they do care, but their helmet made them look indifferent to the world. And though I understood the demands of the other wastelander, what I didn't get was why they were antagonizing ponies in power armor who were wielding miniguns.

It just felt off to me. Maybe it's because the Applejack Rangers are tryings to be more tolerant and helpful. But Grizzly Deal was tolerant and helpful, and she'd likely have killed somepony to get them to shut up. Life out here can be cheap, so why poke the ursa.

"You okay, Lottery?" Cold Trails asked.

"Ya, but… something wrong here." I said as I watched the crowd.

"How is this helping?" A pony shouted, garthing sympathetic shouts from the crowd, who added to the question.

"We're dying out here while you hide in there!" Another shouted, also riling up the crowd with more shouting.

Cold looked at the crowd himself, concerned was on his face, and a sense of understanding. "To me everything is all wrong, but I get what you're saying. Lots of rabble rousers in this group."

"Rabble rousers?" I said questioning

"Ponies who inflame a crowd to be more combative. Happened a lot in the Enclave, oddly always in support of the government. We always joked that they were Enclave agents… Well joked in hushed tones in case it was true." He explained.

"Really now." I said, now focusing more on the ponies who were stirring up the crowd.

"I bet they're eating real pretty, and just giving us their rotting slop!" A pony shouted. It. was a mare, somewhat rough looking, which was nothing new.

"This all new ranger shit is probably brahmin shit!!" Another mare shouted, she to looking rough around the edges, but her mane look strangely hard looking, as though it had too much gell in it.

… wait, gell?

"Wait here, I need to check on something." I told my friends, trotting off to the crowd.

Moving along the edge of the crowd, I examined the ponies. Dusty, and clearly having lived hard lives, their wasn't a clean pony among them. But now and then I smelt something a bit more rancid then ponies who beardly got a chance to baith. The smell of rot, as though a pony was dead, yet not dead, but not like the stale smell of ghouls. Many of them were clothed up in some rag or some other protection from the harsh wasteland, but the few exposed had fairly normal cutie-marks. Also, many ponies showed signs of some fight or another, or at least the wear and tear of the wasteland.

One mare stuck out, who was one of the rabble rousers. "I bet they want us to suffer out here!" She shouted before pulling back and trotting to a new spot in the crowd. Her clothes were thicker, her mane looked so matted that it likely had not been properly washed for years, and had to be tied down. There were more scars on her that it was clear she had been in more than just a few fights.

Trotting up to her, I spoke up just loud enough so that she could hear me. "Hay, what's going on." I don't why, but I tilted my head in the way to show off the Bailfire Fiends mane clip.

The mare rolled her eyes at me, but then smirked as those eyes, yellow with clear chem abuse, drifted to my mane. "Well fuck me, sister you took your sweet ass time getting here." She said, showing yellowed teeth that had specks of green on it, which had been filed into points. Her breath, it was where the rotting smell came from, and it was putrid. Leaning in closer, she opens her jacket to show off a Bailfire Fiend pin, then asked quietly, "So, did ya bring em?"

I did my best to keep a strait face, not showing off my disgust at the raider. So thinking fast, I said, "ya, but only some. You know how the others can be."

The raider huffed. "Typical, always lazy fuckers. That's why stallions are inferior to us mares, we get shit done."

Typical Bailfire Fiend.

"Well if were going to do what we do, we need to get ready for it… right?" I said, not knowing what the fuck they were planning.

Fortunately the raider nodded, saying, "ya, ya, I get it. I'll get the other bitches. Anyway it's getting boring taunting the tin cans, they just won't bite, and the pissant wasters won't do shit to them. About time we make em do shit."

She then stared at me for a long moment… "what?" I asked.

The raider then tilted her head, making me a bit worried she found me out. "Uhhh, were we going?"

Right, "over there." I said, pointing in a random direction.

She nodded again and trotted off.

Moving myself, I trotted in that direction, finding myself near a trash and literal shit pile. It was away from all the other ponies, likely because of the smell, and the smaller radroaches infesting the pile.

"Sis, you sure this bitch is telling the truth. I see no fucking backup!" A second raider mare said as she trotted with the first raider. Three more raider mares followed behind them, all looking rather suspiciously at me.

"Ya, she knew what I was fucking saying… and.. ya know, stuff." The first raider said as she trotted right up to me. "Were here to do the fucking thing!"

The four other raiders looked at each other, then at the first raider. "And what is that thing?"

"Uhhh… we were too attack… right?" The first raider questioned.

The second raider sighed. "That was the fucking previous plan, with the fucking townies, not with the fucking tin cans ya shit for fucking brains!"

A third raider spoke up. "And how burnt the fuck out are you even? That's the mare who went into the fucking bunker, ya know, the one from Ursa's Rest. The ponies were trying to kill!"

The first raider paused for a moment as she slowly realized what was likely going on. "Oh… Fuck me." She said.

The second raider nodded as she and the other three raiders drew their weapons. All pipes with spiky bolts along the hitting end. "Well lets hope we got two ponies to fuck."

I then realized how flawed of a plan this was… or that I had no plan at all actually. I was outnumbered five to one, and all they needed was to get one good hit in to take me out. I wasn't a unicorn or griffin, so quick shooting my revolver was a bad idea, and so was throwing hooves until I thin them out.

I needed a distraction… I had a distraction!

"Will-o-Wisp, scare them." I said, and the cute blue flame burst to life and flew at one of the raiders.

The raider threw themselves to the ground, dogging Will-o-Wisp, and screamed, "Mothers come to eat my soul!"

As the other raiders stood around stunned, I could feel Rime Frost in my hooves, she was a good girl, so I swung her up. The first raider flinched as the axe spike buried itself deep under her muzzle, the mare only able to let out a gurgle.

Realizing what I just did, the other raiders immediately charged at me, spiked pipes at the ready. Pulling Rime Frost down and aiming her, I pulled the trigger, getting a click.

Fuck, I didn't put a shell in the chamber!

Pulling on the lever to load Rime, the first raider fell over spasming from getting spiked and frosted. One raider was almost on me, and I blasted her back just as her club scraped my cheek, knocking her back. A chunk of the raider had blasted out and hitting the other raider that was still on the ground from getting spooked by Will-o-Wisp, causing her to scream in fear even more.

The two raiders still standing were too close to get a shot off on, forcing me to use Rime to defend me. One club hitting Rime, the other hitting my side, causing me to grunt in pain.

Turning Rime to shoot another raider, she glared at me as I felt Rime be grabbed out of my hooves. "Not today bitch!" The raider growled as Rime was thrown away from me.

Shock ran through me as the other raider slipped under me, grabbing my back legs and lifting me up. She then laughed maniacally as I found myself high up before she slammed me back down.

Even with the pain killers in me, all I could feel was pain, with several spots on my back having hit rocks.

Then the raider that threw Rime jumped on top of me, straddling my waist. "I'll make this quick!" She said as she slammed a cracked hoof onto my face. "No, wait, I'll take my time breaking your face!"

As she lifted her other hoof up, I jabbed at her neck, my Grizzly Gauntlets cutting into her, and sending a spray of blood out, causing her to grab at the likely fatal wound, letting me strike at her again, and knocking her off me.

Pushing myself up, I was knocked down again by the last standing raider. I was sure this time she broke a rib with how painful the strike was. "Bitch, you don't know how dead you are, when our big-"

As she talked, I drew Whisky Shot, and unloaded into her, not caring what she had to say.

Again pulling myself up, the fifth raider saw me, and filled with terror, bolted up and ran. So I pulled out Last Dance, the old rifle held comfortably in my hooves, and as she ran past a Steal Ranger, I aimed through the scope. Firing, the shot went in from her flank, likely tearing up everything inside before harmlessly popping out of her chest with a spray of blood.

The uncaring metal face of the powered armored pony looked at me, the engine of their minigun turning on as the barrels spun. Dropping Whisky Shot from muzzle and Last Dance from my hooves, I reached up in the air. "Hay now, I can explain."

With a grunt, the Applejack Ranger said with a mechanical voice, "Explain!"

"In simplest terms, their raiders." I said just as my friend rushed over, shock on their faces. "To be exact, their Bailfire Fiend raiders, here to stir up trouble."

Another Applejack Ranger trotted over, and also with a mechanical, if a bit more feminine voice, looked at the carnage and huffed. "Fucking wastelanders!"

While I kept my hooves in the air, Spell Circuit arrived and got their attention as he used his magic to examine the fifth dead raider. "She's right, look here." He said as he opened her rags, revealing tattoos and patterned scars. "Looks like this one is a 42 Smiles that survived the feral ghouls, Lottery. She must have gotten taken in by the Bailfire Fiends."

He then motioned the Rangers over to take a look. "See the filed to a point teeth, wrecked eyes, and even scars from med-x abuse are all here. Even if she wasn't a raider, she wouldn't be stable enough to live in civilization." He then lifted out a pin depicting the Bailfire Fiends logo. "It also matches their modus operandi, if a bit crude, they love manipulating others."

Plasma trotted over and then kicked one of the other raider corpses, rage in her eyes. "Oh I know this bitch, she was with Bandsaw when they branded me with the fucking curse!" She then turned to the Applejack Rangers, telling them. "Knights, you should report this to a Paladin immediately, and tell the civilians to disperse. Who knows how many more raiders are still hiding among them."

Somehow, by just lowering their heads, the ranger managed to turn the the emotionless look of their helmets to that of disdain. "Don't presume to give us orders savage."

Plasma glared back at them, then said, "fine, but when one of your scribed is found beaten and raped, who will take responsibility. Trust me, I have the scars from it."

The female ranger trotted over to me before calling out to her partner. "I've already reported the incident, so stop trying to intimate the mare. She's one of us too, not a waster, and stop calling them that!" Turning her head back to me, the helmet betraying none of her true emotions. "You can go, but next time, let us deal with this scum. I understand you civilians have your own justice, but even one stray shot had gone wild, and hit an innocent pony. Well, you would get to see what ranger justice is like. Understood?" I nodded. "Good, now get the fuck out of here!"

Lowering my hooves, I quickly collected my guns, Rime Frost having already gone back to her holster on her own, and I joined my friend. They were all quiet as we loaded back onto the sky wagon, which felt odd, and uncomfortable.

"That was crazy, right?" I said.

"What the fuck, Lottery!" Cold Trails blurted out.

"What?" I said defensively.

"Telling us to stay there and then going off hunting raiders, on your own, in the middle of a populated area!" There was genuine anger in Colds voice as he chastised me. "What if you did hit an innocent, or what if the raiders got you. Fuck, they almost did, look at your face, your still bleeding from… I don't know, but I do think they broke your nose!"

I reached up and touch my nose, but then realized that my armored hoof was already covered in blood. "Shit, I hope I don't catch a disease from this."

Plasma Cutter then groaned. "That's what your worried about! The doc has enough medicine to cure most shit. Fuck, all the STD's I have are currently suppressed thanks to her, and that medicine is not cheep. You could have died! There's no cure for dead, Lottery!"

"Oh… s… sorry." I stammered out.

Spell Circuit sighed. "Well your fine now, and that's all that matters. But next time, please don't do that alone. None of us want to see you hurt." He then got up, trotting over to a M.o.P. box, and fished out a healing potion. "Now take this, but first let me fix your nose, and anything else that might be out of place."

It was strange, I didn't feel anything as my muzzle made a crack noise, but I did drink the potion fast once they gave me it, finding it to have an iron taste to it.

"Good, your looking better already." Spell said as he sat back down. "But seriously, how did you do so much damage in such a short amount of time. That seen was absolutely horrifying."

I shrugged. "Had to think fast… and again, sorry. Didn't realize how fucked the situation was until I was outnumbered."

"I'd give you a hug… but you're redder then a tato right now." Plasma said nervously.

I let out a laugh as I then realized I had been running on adrenaline, and it was now fading as pain began to return. My head was feeling the absolute worst. Trying to ignore the rising pain, I decided to change the topic, "say Plasma, since you're going to be more open about your activities, maybe Spell can help you with them?"

The skycart lurched as she blushed with embarrassment. "S… shut up, Lottery!"

"Oh come on, I bet Spell knows a few things, being from a slaver family and all." I suggested.

Plasma clearly didn't want me to say any more, but I could tell she was considering something.

"Umm… what are you going on about?" Spell asked.

Fortunately Cold interjected. "Something we can talk about after Lottery gets washed off." He then looked at me sympathetically. "Also, Lottery, I think you should take a sip from your canteen."

A bit confused, I shrugged and did just that. With a wave of calm washing over me, I realized what I was doing. "Oh… fuck. Sorry about that."

Plasma to had taken a sip from her canteen, several times actually. "Fuck the Bailfire Fiends." She huffed.

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