Fallout Equestria: Luck

Fallout Equestria: Luck

By Gun Shot

Chapter 4: Slice of Life

“It makes you realize that everypony is the star of their own story.”

A hooded figure watched from their perch on a hill as a trade caravan passed. Something was off, movements ahead of the caravan caught the figure’s eye. They spread their cyan wings and took flight. The pegasus flew high to the sky before dropping into a dive. They swooped down and delivered a high speed buck to the bandit’s back, letting out a scream and a satisfying crack. Before the caravan guards could react, the pegasus had disappeared into the foliage. The hooded pony had come to be known as the Star Striker after their first encounter with a zebra tribe. He had saved them from a pack of raiders in a similar method to this. The name spread fast through the caravan network, a mysterious pegasus rescuing merchants before they know they’re in danger. Only one pony knew who the Striker was, and that was the Striker.

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A lemon yellow mare with a lime green mane was sat by a fire, happy caravan guards and merchants danced around singing. They hadn’t eaten a full meal in longer than they could remember, now they were stuffed. The mare picked up her bag of kitchen supplies and looked around. She nodded to herself, another successful mission. Silently, she slipped out of the party. She adjusted her jacket as she walked away, not looking back. She had nowhere specific to go yet, so she just went. Suddenly, she gave a big jolt, as though she had a mini seizure standing up. “Vanhoover here I come,” she said to herself. The city sat on the horizon already, the small flashes of the explosive wars only barely visible. Without hesitation, she began her march.

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A red stallion wanders alone, head hung low. Behind him lies the crumbling ruins of South Vanhoover, he thought of his brother, crushed beneath the rubble. He knew nothing of this world but its dangers. Dangers that had killed everyone he knew, everyone he loved. Dangers were all he knew now, he fled east to escape them. He fled east to preserve himself, a cowardly move by a desperate buck. In the distance he hears a howl, he readied his magic powered weapon, prepared to blast even the strongest creature. The wooden wolf leaped over a moss blanketed pile of bones, ready to feast. It hit the ground, the glowing ashy remains dispersing in the wind. Continuing his slow walk, he felt in danger, even now. He, The Last Shot.

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A group of bone clad ponies, their barding painted in blood, gathered around a bon fire. They told jokes and stories about the town they just crushed. They laughed at the retelling of the screams heard from the ponies they killed. At the mention of the flaming barn, two of them looked at eachother. They slinked off from the group, snickering. From behind a nearby rock outcrop, the two bucks dragged a covered cage. “Oh booooyyys!” one called. “We brought a souvenir!” finished the other as all of the raiders looked over. Together the two ripped the tarp off the cage, revealing a young blue mare with a green and red mane. She was in the far corner of the cage, curled up in a tight ball. She looked up at the sudden return of light, her ears drawn back and fear in her tear filled eyes. Everypony went quiet, only to be heard was the crackling of the fire and the heavy breath of the mare. “No way! You brought us a toy?!” the first one to break the silence shouted. The rest started clamoring and pushing each other around. Most of the mares of the group rolled their eyes as the bucks declared they wanted first dibs, some joined in. The mare tried backing up further, but there was a wall in her way of escape.

The flames roared throughout the night as some stuck by the fire telling stories, laughing, some even cheering. Before the sun rose a creaking could be heard. A gust of wind blew the smoke theatrically. Emerging from the smoke was a rusty, metal wagon topped with a large cage and several small cages and pulled by several large framed ponies. The flame illuminated several ponies within the cages, some cages contained two, even three. The large one being empty. “Hello, most revered stars,” a large unicorn greeted when he saw the banner next to the fire, a four pointed star, “I heard screams and thought I'd come do business”. It took the raiders a moment to realize what the buck meant, then the mare let out another pained scream, the sadist got a hold of her it seemed. The two bucks who brought her stepped forward, “how much you offering?” they asked, simultaneously.

“Fifty caps, since she’s used,” he replied, after some thought.

“Seventy caps, she knows medical work,” even though they sounded confident, they were only guessing from her cutie mark.

“Sixty.”

“Sixty-five!”

“Deal!”

“CRACK!” one of the bucks shouted, “Time’s up!” A moment later a mare with a whip came from around the corner, a beaten, defiled mare covered in various fluids, hers and others, in tow. “My… brother… will… find you… and he… he will… kill you all…” the mare snarled between gasps for air. “I’m sure he will, sugar” Crack mocked. The blue mare was shackled and shoved into one of the small cages. She was too weak to fight against them, but she kept yelling about her brother as the wagon rolled away.

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The mysterious medical pony dug through medical supplies, throwing empty bottles and stained bandages behind him. “Ah, there it is,” he exclaimed, holding up a small bottle of healing potion. He poured it on the scratched leg of a green colt, telling him to drink the rest. The colt flinched. “So, what’s your story?” He asked the colt. No answer, Emerald just stared at the medic. “Don’t want to talk about it?” he guessed, “what about that blue buck you were with?” More stares, after a moment of silence, Emerald pointed at the buck, looking quizzical. “Me first?” his answer came in a nod, “you can't talk… can you?” Emerald shook his head. “Guess I can tell you then.” he shrugged, “ the name’s Blue”. Blue stepped to the gaping hole that was once a window, “hope your friend is ok, he got thrown pretty hard by that blast”. Emerald stood, following the still mysterious medic, he looked out at the horizon, they were on a high level of a tall tower, standing high above most roofs. In a strange way the view was gorgeous, the distant explosions below looked like little blinking lights. One tall tower in particular looked like a Hearths Warming tree with all the flashes.

Blue looked to the young colt, “I must get back out there, they need me.” Emerald nodded, and the medic leaped out the window. “STAY PUT!” he called back as he fell. When he was just a small speck, barely visible in the darkness, something unseen seemed to catch him and carry him through the streets. Emerald sat, watching the tree-like tower with great interest.

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A white rabbit hopped along the dry, dead grass, unshaken by the lack of green food. The rabbit had nowhere to be, nowhere to go, no obligations. Something had unknowingly destroyed its home and family. And so the bunny wandered, waiting for death to claim it. The woods lay in the rabbits wake, there was no point hiding in the trees. The bunny wanted to explore. It hopped its way to the ruins of a small town. Tired, it entered what had once been a large tree, reminding it of its old home. It hopped through dried puddles of red liquid, over odd-shaped white rocks. The rabbit nestled up in a corner and slept.