Fallout Equestria: Burdens

Prologue

“Some things in this world are best left as they were…Never has it been right…and terribly, horribly wrong...”

Our orders were to keep a low profile, to make sure nopony knew that we were out here; a clandestine mission. If the damn Company finds out it will be like Operation Cauterize all over again. We will be in the same situation as our grandparents: us, alone, in a hostile wasteland full of savages. Unfortunately, the ones out here are far from savage; efficient and deadly, like a well-oiled machine.

We were never meant to find this place, but we did. And the repercussions of coming here cannot be fathomed. The risks are higher than ever, but orders are orders, and it’s our duty to ensure the Enclave’s survival. What we do is for the reinstatement of the Enclave as a force of nature to the entirety of the wasteland. We do this for the rebirth of our great society.

“Okay, how about this one,” AB-49 killed the silence via radio, “Would you rather know when you’re gonna die? Or how you’re gonna die?”

I dreaded the thought and sighed so hard I nearly fogged up my helmet’s visor, “You seriously had to go there with the thought of death? Not a good way to start this off, Forty-Nine.”

The thought of death in any way, shape, or form, just doesn’t settle well in the mind. Nopony likes the thought of death, that much is certain. But death, here… I have no intention of going through with that experience. I’m afraid of it. I’d rather not know either and focus on the life ahead of me.

Forty-Nine groans like an irritated foal, “I’m just trying to pass time. How long does it take to find a dead drop on a marked location?” she breathed in and out, “It’s fucking freezing out here. I want to go back home and out of this fucking place.”

“We all want that, Forty-Nine,” I reminded her as I paced a bit in the sand to get the blood flowing. Standing around too long gave me pins and needles, “The sooner Ten and Eighty-Seven secure the drop, the faster we can leave. So just keep your feathers in order, alright?”

Forty-Nine growled audibly in the coms, “How does anypony in this forsaken place live with these conditions? The blistering heat, the blistering cold. It’s sunburn and frostbite, day in and day out! Madness!”

“The wasteland is a fucked up place as it is,” I told her, “Did you expect the weather to be any better out here—away from Equestria?”

“This temperature is abnormal!”

“It’s the desert, quit complaining.”

“Yeah, Thunderburst? Those Corporate sons-of-bitches can’t do anything about it? I thought they owned this place.”

“I swear Forty-Nine, just endure it! You’re an Enclave Soldier-- soldiers endure and they survive. That’s one of the lessons we had to learn by heart.” I growled, “Using code saves lives, Forty-Nine. It’s ideal when you don’t want to be found.”

“Not like anypony’s out here to listen. We’re in the middle of nowhere, for crying out loud!”

Another break of static interjects, and a different mare’s voice comes through, AB-Eighty-Seven, “That doesn’t mean we’re alone, Forty-Nine. Speaking of which, are you actually keeping your eyes out on the horizon?”

“Not like there’s nothing else to do. I bet you’re all warmer down there in that cavern or whatever it is you all are in.”

“You mean a slot canyon? Not very, sometimes--”

“Alright alright, Bl-- I mean Eighty-Seven. I don’t need a whole lecture on geography.”

“It’s...Geology.”

“Whatever.”

There are distant rumbles to the south, disrupting my wandering thoughts. Looking in the respective direction, there were disturbing beats of flashing, off-colored light in the sky. Anxiety sank in and I became restless when I noticed it coming towards us at an oddly distorted pace. I counted, anticipating the next rumble. A minute later, it arrived; twelve miles away, but given the briefing’s detail on the weather patterns here it’ll change shortly. I almost envy the control we were said to have over the weather-- over the clouds. These seem to have a mind of their own.

“Sir, we have a storm coming in,” I radioed the situation to Ten. “Twelve miles out, and closing in.”

“Shit, we almost have it,” Ten cursed, “Call in Eighty-Nine, Forty-Four. By the time he gets here, we should be ready with the dead drop.”

“Aye, sir.” I immediately switched to calling the Vertibuck on our frequency,

“Come in, Alpha Bravo Bird. Alpha Bravo Bird, this is the ground team. ‘Package has been located, repeat, the package has been located and is being prepped. Requesting extraction at our location, over!”

There was a chirp, and AB-Eighty-Nine came through, “This is Alpha Bravo Bird. Wilco AB-Forty-Four, we’ll be on our way shortly. ETA ten minutes. Shit hits the fan, we request you meet us halfway—the storm is looking pretty bad from over here...over?”

“Copy, Alpha Bravo. We’ll see you soon. Over and out.” I grumble while the link goes out. ‘Shit-hits-the-fan’ isn’t exactly a radio etiquette thing to say, “They’re too casual about this.”

“Okay we get it, Forty-Four, you still got your gripes about following things to code and military regulation…” Eighty-Seven comments on the radio, “But with all due respect, keep it to yourself, sir.”

“And he gets after me for complaining.” Forty Nine follows up.

“For good reason, Forty-Nine. I don’t care if we are all alone out here, still doesn’t mean that we’re not being heard.”

“You already said that--”

“I know. It’s because it’s a valid point to have. Please, Forty-Nine. Just asking for this one thing from you.”

She scoffs, “Like anypony out here cares if we can just drop a bit of this militant bull--”

“I swear to the clouds and back, Forty-Nine…”

Always about maintaining face. Always about showing that we are organized to those who can happen to hear us. If they did it would be a scary thought, but we have to at least present ourselves verbally to maintain face.

There’s a loud crash in the distance. I glance at the horizon, the storm rages and roars. The clouds, swirling and crashing like a mad body of water, cast ominous shadows that swallow the moonlight.

My radio opens to Ten’s voice, “We’ve got it!”

The clap of thunder nearly scares me out of my gear. The moon’s blue rays hitting the sand black out as the storm races towards us. The off-colored lightning shoots out towards the sky, within the clouds, and into the sand all at once. The brisk air kicks up, howling into our earpieces.

“Damn, it’s heavy!” Eighty-Seven comments. “Wish we had Power Armor!”

Flash! Boom!

That’s too soon to hear thunder that fast. Did I miscount? The thought that we may have had more time turns sour in my chest. That sourness ate into my stomach and created a pit. I count again, knowing what the storms bring. I’m wanting to flee.

“Sir! It’s going to be right on top of us! It’s now six miles from our location!” Forty-Nine shouts with alarm.

“Fucking hell that’s a fast storm!” Eighty-Seven swears, “We’re at the mouth! Coming out!”

Ten and Eighty-Seven slowly rose out of the hole with a dingy and worn industrial cargo case.

Just as Ten and Eighty-Seven reach the edge of the slot canyon, I see them lose their grip on the package. Fear grips my heart and pushes me to go and help them.

“Shit! Grab it!” Ten shouts as both he and Eighty-Seven dive back into the canyon.

“I don’t see them, anywhere! ABB should be here now!” Forty-Nine’s voice, now more wracked with heavy breathing, booms into the radio while I near the canyon, “Alpha Bravo Bird where the hell are you!? Alpha Bravo Bird, are you receiving? Where the hell’s our extraction!?”

We can all hear ABB’s voices, butchered by the ambient magic… no. Magic doesn’t describe what that storm has, something is hacking the message like a knife to meat.

“ BRRRRCHHH--ZZZZZ-- ea-- CHHH-CHH-ZZRRRR---”

“REEE--RRRRR---REEEE-- too cl-- HE-HE-HRRRRRR--EEEEEEE--”

The garbling, the white noise, the choppy vocalizations, none of it is helping! I can’t pick up a single coherent thing with this interference! Fear and a headache are racking my head from all of it!

I reach the slot canyon, and I peer my head over the edge to see Ten and Eighty-Seven struggling with the cargo. I’m uncertain how to help them without causing more problems. All my attempts to analyze how are coming up short.

“I see them! There they are!” Forty-Nine’s voice reaches my ears through the growing static from my radio. Her words have me look to the clear night horizon to see our vertibuck moving through the lit-up night sky. I feel relief wafting over me seeing it moving through the horizon. The relief dies quickly when it’s realized that the Vertibuck isn’t coming closer to us. It’s going in the direction of home.

“No… No where are they going?” Forty-Nine starts to ventilate, “They-- They-- They’re leaving us! ABB, don’t go! We’re over here, you bastards! Don’t leave us!”

“We took too long…” Ten’s words sound as heavy as lead, “...they won’t come for us-- not with this storm. We’d lose the Vertibuck.”

A flash of thunder, an arc of off-color lightning strikes. We duck on instinct, my spine tingles from the close call.

“Fuck this! Fuck this! Fuck this!” Forty-Nine’s crazed yelling came in when my ears stopped ringing. She kicks off the ground and flies along the rising wind and towards the shrinking horizon.

“Misty!” I yell after her, but I can’t hear my own words. I was about to fly after her, but Ten’s voice kept me on the ground.

“Forty-Four, leave her! We missed our window!”

I turned around, to see Ten beckoning to me with his armored hoof. He pointed a little to his left and I saw it. My blood ran cold when the lightning lashed out from the churning clouds now a mile or so away and clawed into the sand behind me. A monstrous, deafening boom erupts behind me and a terrible color illuminated the sky around me.

My eardrums explode again from the follow-up boom. Unable to stand, disoriented from sudden vertigo, I lose my footing and tumble with the ferocious wind. Despite my head continuing to spin, I manage to keep my wings closed and at my sides.

The wind wasn’t letting up, so I attempted to make myself dead weight to fight back against the elements. I curl up into a ball to maximize my weight, and it certainly starts to help while my tumbling came to a halt.

“Brrrrzzzttttt---Wrrrrrrrr---AAAAUUU---Four! Overrrrrrrr----ere!!!”

My radio buzzes to life, but I can’t tell if it’s Ten or Eighty-Seven. My HUD is on the fritz from the magical disturbance. It’s useless to me now. I can’t track where the noise is coming from. My E.F.S. is busted. My vital readings keep shifting between numbers and status warnings. Even the internal lighting in my helmet blinks and buzzes erratically.

I want to stay here and ball up, let the sand consume me. I want to disappear. Anything to avoid Them.

A white light barely pierces the haze of the storm just as another clap of bright thunder illuminated the sky and casted so many obscure, heart-stopping shadows. Two voices reach my ears-- one from my radio and one coming through the wind. Both are barely audible.

“Tccchhhhhhhhhhzzzzzz---on!”

“Thunderburst, c’mon!”

Eighty-Seven’s light came right up to me, and I’ve never felt more happy to see her. She helped me up; I didn’t think about resisting. When somepony sends you help in dire straits, you take what you can get.

The both of us huddle together and push through the storm, periodically having to lock ourselves in place when the harsher winds come at us. I keep my gaze down but my friend close; I feel like if I look up, They’d see us. The thought that they are seeing us makes me want to turtle and hug Eighty-Seven closer.

‘I...see...you…’

A voice. A voice that wasn’t mine trailed into my mind and froze me in place. Eighty-Seven kept going, and stopped to look back at me, realizing I wasn’t with her. My breath feels thick, and my heart sinks through my stomach; I’m paralyzed by fear.

Eighty-Seven's voice echoed again, trying to get me to move,

“Zzzzzrrrrrr---go---rrreeeeerrr--’mon!”

“Thunderburst! Keep going! We’re almost there, c’mon!”

There was another thunderclap and a flash of lightning. The shadows became more defined from the last time, and they are looking vaguely like a pony. I pray my eyes are tricking me, and I don’t want to bring Eighty-Seven’s attention to it; I’m afraid if I do, They’ll all see us.

Does she see them, too?

Flash. Boom. Shadows. There are more of Them, now– more than the last. By ones, then by threes. I feel their eyes on me with their luminous gaze and pulsating lights infecting their bodies. Perpetual screaming; moans carried in the wind constantly whipping into our armor. I’m wishing that my ears were ringing louder from the thunder, but the storm wants us to hear Them.

Their moans found form and became words. Disembodied. Intelligent. Misty’s question...

‘Would you rather know…

...when you’re going to die...

...or how you’re going to die?’

Grand Pegasus Enclave- Stormtrooper Division Squadron 1, Team B- Alpha Bravo.

RETRIEVAL MISSION STATUS REPORT:

-Chief Master Sergeant, Doldrum- AB-10: Missing in Action, Presumed Deceased

-Master Sergeant, Thunderburst- AB-44: Missing in Action, Presumed Deceased

-Staff Sergeant, Luft- AB-89: Returned to Base, Quarantined, Pending Debriefing

-Sergeant First-Class, Alto- AB-66: Returned to Base, Quarantined, Pending Debriefing

-Sergeant, Misty Cloud- AB-49: Returned to Base, Quarantined, Pending Debriefing

-Sergeant, Blazing Rain- AB-87: Missing in Action, Presumed Deceased

STATUS OF PRIORITY PACKAGE: UNKNOWN

COURSE OF ACTION REQUIRED
LEVEL-1 PRIORITY
RETRIEVAL TEAM ASSEMBLY IN PROGRESS...