Fallout: Equestria - Forgotten

by CoolBreeze

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Original Character, Adventure, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 7201

Cpl. Aid wakes up after the balefire, finding that he must face his own demons as well as the wastes

One hundred and forty years after the great war, in which the Zebras scorched all of Equestria with balefire, a young medic wakes up in an abandoned facility and begins his struggle to survive the insurmountable odds. He must quickly learn to adapt to the horrors so many other ponies find commonplace, but he soon finds that sometimes the real monsters pale in comparison to one's own demons.

Published 2012-10-24 06:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-06 07:35:42 UTC

Chapter 1

Fallout: Equestria

Forgotten - Chapter 1

“Wish upon a star...”

Bright and beautiful, an orange star brushes past as I rouse from my slumber, warmth washing over me as others like it of varying colours, density and brilliance wink into existence around me. Their warmth and strength tugging calmly at me as I regain my senses, I reach out to them and return their touch in earnest.

Smaller stars dance around me, they sing a clear note as they circle then wink out gleefully, and suddenly I am filled with a deep sorrow, the stars are being pulled away, out of my reach.

“Come back! Don’t leave me alone, please...”

The first star returns, brushing close and easing the sorrow deep within myself. Confidence radiates from it and washes over me, before it too fades from existence.

* * *

I open my eyes, dim light filtering through a cold mist that clouds my vision and the room beyond, my body spasms from the cold air as I inhale a lungful of it laced with dust. Exhaling I wait for my eyes to focus on the dome around me, a sense of panic forcing its way inside me and I lash out, kicking hooves clean through the glass dome and out into musty, warm air of the outside world. The panic envelopes me and I struggle, forcing my weakened body out of the steel prison I had woke up in before slumping and sliding the rest of the way out and onto the cold, steel floor.

I gaze down at my fore-hooves, noticing the M series PipBuck just below my left knee, green coat ruffled at the edges of the device’s case. My attention is snatched away from the PipBuck to a speaker in the wall several meters away as a mechanical voice calls out calmly.

“Warning, critical power failure, emergency generators online, stasis pod one, two, three, six, seven and eight critical failure. Stasis pod four breached! Paging security.”

Struggling up to my hooves, I wobble precariously before staggering into the nearby pod with a bright white number five painted on its side and smack my head into the misted glass dome.

I cry out, my voice strangely hoarse and put a hoof to my head to rub as it throbs, that's when I noticed the crack in the glass as it begins to grow, the spiderweb of cracks eventually reach the seals of the dome before the glass shatters entirely and reveals the occupant to the dirty air. What I see makes my stomach heave, as I gag on my tongue, I chance another glance.

The occupant had been a pony, like me, but where their eyes should be, were only hollow sockets. Their hide had partially mummified, their leathery skin and their sunken sides show their ribcage clearly. I rise up and take a closer look at the pony, remembering my medical training under the Peace Corps, I can clearly see that the pony had died from dehydration and the stasis pod had further worsened the condition to the point that they mummified.

“Warning, unauthorised intrusion detected in level four. Security teams not responding, all personnel proceed to safety zones and await further instructions.”

As the PA system cuts off, I can hear muffled gunfire somewhere above me just before the doors open and a bloodied figure tramples through the entrance, assault rifle floating beside them. Without hesitation or even being aware of the action until it occurs, I duck behind pod five as a volley of automatic fire peppers the plating where I had squatted only a second before.

“Goddess damned zombies! Come out so I can finish ya off!”

I listen carefully as my attacker approaches, gauging the distance they had moved by the sound of their hoof-steps, then I spring over the pod, quicker than I thought possible. They try to level the zebra-made automatic rifle at me, but I am quicker and far better trained, my hooves lash out, crushing ribs into lungs, puncturing the vital organs and causing my attacker to gasp in agonising pain. Even still, they swing the gun and fire a wild volley, missing me by a half meter, but I don't even flinch, knocking the weapon from their magical grip before lunging down, biting down on the grip of a combat knife sheathed to their left fore hoof and driving it deep into their neck in one swift movement.

They spasm, struggling for a brief moment against the inevitable, then they crumple to the floor, the fight leaves their eyes and it’s over, the brief moment of madness gone.

Blood seeps out of the wound and down onto my PipBuck under their neck before I stagger back out of sheer shock, hooves knocking the assault rifle aside.

“Threat level Alpha, security protocols initiated, all personnel evacuate to safety zones.”

The pony that I so easily killed is filthy, covered from head to tail in grime and gore, worse still their cutie mark is a horrid depiction of a pony skull skewered on a steel beam. My gaze wanders to the assault rifle, at a glance I can tell it is in horrible condition, the rust is a stark indicator of that.

With barely a second thought, I scavenge what ammunition I can from the pony, three extra magazines, a bandoleer with pouches to fit said ammunition and the combat knife were all there is. I then scour the room, finding a quarter filled healing potion in a desk with an audio recording. I copy the contents of the recording to my PipBuck and stuff the potion into one of the larger pouches on my bandoleer before stumbling from the room.

I quickly begin staggering down the hall, assault rifle in my mouth, the rust on the weapon tasting awful but I’m still having trouble coordinating my body as well as I would have liked to and magic seems far beyond my conscious self at this point.

As I move further along the hall, I notice a set of double doors ahead to my right, just before they open and a pony, that resembles something out of a horror movie with parts of its skull and ribs showing outside of its flesh, it shambles out.

I begin to stagger faster, almost at a gallop as my motor functions grow stronger.

A blood chilling, gurgling howl erupts from behind me and I dare not look back as I hear shuffling hoof-steps quickening in pace. I turn left into a stairwell and begin to climb it as fast as I can, turning onto the upper floor and being greeted by a great big poster of the ministry mare, Pinkie Pie, smiling at me with the word:

“Smile!”

I snort in disgust as red lights begin to flash throughout the hall, prompting me to begin moving again, worse, the dry shuffling has caught up with me and I fear whatever it was had followed me to the stairs.

I began to feel panic welling up within me once more but manage to swallow it back down, panicking now would only result in bad things, I have to keep a clear mind.

Where ever I was, it was underground, I had not seen a single window since I woke but at least I was going up.

I stagger around a corner, following the exit signs only to come upon another skeleton pony in mortal combat with a pony just as filthy as the one who attacked me. I wiggle past them and rush onwards, steel walls turned to concrete and finally to plaster as I finally come up into an office, bright light filling the large room and I feel my heart skip a beat.

Sunlight!

I gallop, leaping over toppled chairs and tables, rushing towards the light source and hit solid glass, filthy with what looks like years of grime. Moving along the glass I find the entrance doors, however they are blocked by a pile of concrete rubble from the outside, I can't open them even when I put my full weight behind the effort.

There is a muffled explosion and the ground beneath my hooves trembles. I hear an awful cracking noise and half wonder if the ground might be torn asunder and the depths of hell itself would swallow me whole, reclaiming me.

I turn to the glass and slam my right hoof into it, the outside world was so close, so close!

With an effort I hit the glass repeatedly, but even with the strength I have regained over time, I can't beat it down. I throw chairs, even desks at the infernal glass but that too fails.

That is when I see the orange glow beginning to rise from the tunnel entrance I had only just come from. The ground trembles once more and I realise that I have to break the glass or I would die.

The rifle! I concentrated as hard as I could, trying to use my magic to grip the firearm.

A faint glow emanates from above my head and feebly wraps around the gun, I concentrate every fiber of my being into this task, forcing the fear and panic out of my mind.

Spitting the gun out, the light entirely envelopes the poorly maintained weapon and I let loose a fury of bullets that tears the glass apart, shattering it into a million shards.

With a final look behind me only to see a ball of flame erupting from the entrance to the halls below, I leap, clear through the window with the assault rifle at my side.

I crash into dirt, roll, struggle back up to my hooves and get a single step before I am blown into oblivion...

* * *

I come back, kicking and screaming into the world. Thrashing my limbs around and letting out a scream of unchecked horror.

Hooves knock my muzzle, which stops my screaming for a moment and I open my eyes only to see a grey mare standing over me.

After giving me a rather pale looking Healing Potion, she watches me as I watch my quite nasty shrapnel wounds heal before our eyes.  The shards of metal and concrete sliding out of the closing wounds, coated in drying blood and plopping down onto the dirt at my hooves.

“So,” she starts.

I simply prod the spot a gaping wound had been moments earlier.

“Looting the place and accidentally trip something?” She asks, pressing for information.

I shake my head from side to side, more to clear my head than to answer and then looked around, “Where’s the assault rifle?”

She gives me a slightly puzzled frown before answering, “Over there with my packs, wasn't sure if you were a raider or what.”

“Ah”

There is an extensive, awkward silence for a minute or two before she speaks up again.

“Nice horn you have there, longest one I’ve seen except for those blasted Alicorns.”

I can’t see my horn of course but that matters little at the moment. I am still disorientated and worse, I can’t remember anything from before waking besides a very vague dream about stars and a blast of incredible pain before I had slipped away.

Taking quick note, I examined her out of the corner of my eye, instead of the grey coat I had initially seen her coat is in actual fact, filthy, but under the muck I can see it had once been a brilliant white, her mane and tail are a powerful orange as are her eyes.

“Not all that talkative are you? It’d be great if you could at least join in the conversation as repayment for using a Healing potion on you seeing as they’re scarce enough as it is.” she comments.

Looking back at the smoking remains of a mostly obliterated building that I had only just before, been kept in, I wonder who and what I am.

As I do, my PipBuck clicks and I look down at its white screen to see a message.

Corporal AidMedicPeace CorpsAssigned to special operations -omitted-Status: KIA.

She moves closer to look at the screen herself, “KIA?”

I look up from the screen, “It means I’m dead... but I’m quite clearly not.” My name is Aid, I was a medic during a war and apparently I’m dead, go figure eh?

“Wait there’s some audio logs in your Buck, lemme... there! -”

“Audio Log twenty-three, Subject four, Corporal Aid, all vitals within projected parameters, Four has accepted the high performance replacements and the bone grafting to supplement his physical strength, theoretically he now matches a strong Earth pony in strength but still retains his arcane gifts. Four is our most promising subject yet, only a month or two more and he’ll not only be combat ready, but unlike those silly monster-pony experiments taken out under Project Chimera, he’ll be able to live a normal life among civilians. Princess Luna will be pleased”

I shift uncomfortably, listening to this pony talking about me like this is... it gives me mixed emotions, it makes me feel like a bit of meat only useful for observing at a distance.

“So you’re a pre-war pony then? Do you remember anything?” my rescuer asks.

I think for a moment then shake my head, “Nope... at least now I know my name and where I’m from though.”

She nods, “Well, Aid, I’m Sweets if you’ve even wondered in the least.”

Suddenly, feeling quite ashamed, I apologise profusely for being so rude but she laughs, “Honestly, I don’t mind, you’re dealing with quite a lot. At any rate we have several large problems to deal with. If you are an experiment pony, what nasty secrets are hidden inside you or your past, how will you handle the wasteland and can you maintain and fire a weapon?”

“I... well I know for sure I can keep a weapon working and fire it, but I’m a medic, now I realise why I was shocked at killing that pony back there... I’m supposed to help ponies, not hurt them.”

She sits next to me and puts a hoof around my shoulders. “Lighten up buck, did he attack first?”

I nod in response.

“Well you had to defend yourself, simple as that, especially now. You’re in the Equestrian wastes, the world you can’t remember no longer exists, it’s kill or be killed out here, Aid.”

Taking a moment to process this, I slowly nod to show that I understand.

“Thank you Sweets, I... probably wouldn’t have pulled through that if you hadn’t turned up when you did.”

She keeps her back to me, gazing off across the hills, “Yeah yeah... just don’t go getting yourself senselessly killed.”

I nod, my head still filled with questions of the current state of Equestria, what to do next, how I can repay Sweets for her generosity. Just so much to process and all at once... it is overwhelming to say the least.

“Look, Aid. I'll take you to the nearest settlement, but after that you're probably gonna have to be on your own. I have clients to meet with all across the coast.” Sweets says, still gazing out across the hills.

I follow her gaze and that’s when I truly notice my surroundings and worse... the sheer devastation caused to the once beautiful land. Dark, twisted trunks mark where beautiful trees had once flourished, a hardy, tough bladed grass grows in pockets instead of sweeping across the ground.

Then in the far distance, nestled in the mountain ranges that make up the ‘spine’ of Equestria, I see our once beautiful capitol. A nexus of activity for the well-to-do, the entrepreneurs and royalty.

A memory slowly surfaces, almost reluctant to rear its head to me and I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday as I wandered down the paved streets of Canterlot with my class as a colt.

The once magnificent city is in ruin, towers had crumbled and even the palace, a beacon of peace and hope had fallen into complete ruins, worse, an ominous pink cloud clings to the buildings and masks the air around the city.

I had seen that cloud before, seen the effects it caused, been part of the medical teams operating on ponies who were exposed to it even for mere seconds.

It was a dark magic, Zebra magic.  Then I realise that we lost the war, the Zebras had won.

Chapter 2

Fallout: Equestria

Forgotten - Chapter 2

“Harsh Realities”

It was a sight I never imagined could come true, Canterlot had been the nexus for most of Equestria, the princesses lived there. The pink cloud was very familiar to me, I had encountered it on the battlefield when Zebra’s retreated from our greater forces they gassed the area with the flesh eating magical cloud.

I had witnessed first-hoof the effects of the clouds, treated patients who broke down before my eyes.

Sweets followed my gaze to the city, “Canterlot, I’ve heard stories of the undead walking its streets.” she said with a distant tone.

That was something I hadn't heard, nor witnessed.

“The undead?” I ask tentatively.

She nods, turning her gaze back down to me, her cheery smile gone, replaced by a concerned frown. “Ghouls, but they don't die, when you knock ‘em down they just rise back up.”

Now I was even more curious, what was a Ghoul? But stored that question away for now and chose another.

“Has anypony been there and back before?”

“To Canterlot? A few, most of them come back disfigured from the cloud, claiming that they found a city of peaceful ghouls in one of the old ministry hubs. Of course how can you believe somepony who's half out of their mind?”

I think for a moment as parts of my old self begin to surface, and I remember the effects of the war on ponies. I could easily believe them, I'd fought alongside ponies who had half a dozen screws loose.

“Look, once we reach the settlement you can ask all the questions you like there, but we should probably get moving, somepony will have seen that explosion and will come to investigate, all we need right now is for some Steel Rangers to come up and kill us for our weapons.” She says thoughtfully.

I inspect the bandoleer and find that the healing potion broke during my tumble from the explosion, I remove the shards of glass and toss them aside, freeing the pocket up for something else instead, checking the two magazines for the zebra rifle I find them to both be fully loaded.

“Sweets, do you have some rope or a strong thread of some kind?” I ask.

She rummages through a saddlebag and pulls out, with her teeth, a sturdy looking rope and passes it to me. I use the serrated edge of the combat knife to slice an appropriately sized length of the rope before passing the rest of it back to her.

I fasten both ends of the rope to the strap rings on the rifle and sling it over my back.

“I'm all set, which way Sweets?”

* * *

Sweets tells me a little about herself as we walk between the twisted hunks of dead wood that once were trees. She is a travelling merchant who scavenges specialist items for her clients. In return they pay her handsomely or trade an item she needs equally as much as they need theirs. She's been travelling along the coast for a long while and had been as far as the mountain ranges in search of things she could recover to sell in the growing settlements.

She also gives me a brief rundown on the groups that live in the wastes, referring to a group of savage, pain loving drug addicts as ‘Raiders’ and the deadly ‘Steel Rangers’ whom I quickly realise are the remnants of the Equestrian Army, equipped with the experimental Power Armour.

Recently there had been rumors of creatures called ‘Alicorns’ that looked like Princess Luna, whom Sweets referred to as a “Goddess” not much was really known about this new group but they were usually given a wide berth when possible.

On top of these groups there were smaller groups usually referred to as gangs, groups of ponies and the like who typically kept to themselves, or not, depending on their disposition and the situations they were in.

And then there were the settlements that line the coastal region, Sweets was leading me to a merchant trading outpost, simply called “The Outpost” where she intended to meet with a client and collect payment for some Sparkle Cola Rad she had collected.  Once there and after she had sold her goods she would help me get my bearings.

To be quite honest, I had no idea where to go now or what to do.  Most of my previous life I fought the Zebras, defended Equestria... now there was no war to fight, no princesses to fight for.  There was no need for a military and worse still Sweets told me that the entire Hoofington region was basically a no go zone, the entire area was affected by something called enervation which broke you down from the inside, reducing you to a lump of useless flesh.  There would be no returning home for me, heading into Hoofington was completely out of the question.

I shake my head to clear the repertoire of thoughts bouncing around as Sweets points a hoof at a building that’s crumbing somewhat at the back.

“Might find something to drink in there or somepony to trade with.” she says, before urging me along.

On instinct I unsling the assault rifle, checked the magazine and flicked the safety off, having the weapon ready gives me a sense of false security, but a welcome one all the same.

We cautiously approach the building, climbing up a slope to stay out of view of the windows, then slink right up to the corner before peering inside through the cracks in the boards of the windows.  After a moment of gazing in and waiting for our eyes to adjust we sigh in relief, the building is abandoned.

Sweets kicks in the door with a powerful buck and I make a personal note to not get on the receiving end of an Earth Pony’s kick, before following her in.  As our eyes readjust to the abrupt change in light, I sweep the room for any threats, satisfied that there isn’t even a mouse, I lower the weapon and follow Sweets as she begins to rummage through boxes that had been packed and left by the front door.

I inspect the furniture and conclude that it had once been somepony’s house, a photo frame hangs on the wall, the photo within faded so badly that it’s impossible to make out who was in it.

“Aha!  Sparkle Cola!  Here you go Aid,” Sweets cries out before tossing it in my direction.

I drop the rifle in surprise and catch the bottle with my telekinesis.  The carroty liquid inside looks pretty good to me despite its age and I pop the cap off of it before pressing the lip of the bottle to my mouth and tilting my head back and guzzling the entire contents.

Just as I remember, there’s a carroty aftertaste and the drink is still somewhat refreshing.  As I set the bottle down on a shelf, I get a shock as images flicker in my vision and a lot of text scrolls.

In big bold letters, directly in front of me and obscuring most of the scrolling text reads a message:

STABLETECEYES FORWARD SPARKLE

And then underneath:

Series-M, booting...

As the text flickers and vanishes from my view, an image pops up on my lower left labeled “Health”  Under it is a compass that adjusts as I turn my head, I gaze towards Sweets, a green bar appears on the compass, right where she is.

I start to remember using the Eyes Forward Sparkle before, back when I was just an average medic on the battlefield.  We called it an EFS for short, the green bar in my compass indicated a supposedly friendly, red would indicate enemies and yellow would indicate unknown alignment.  On the right side of my view another bar sits expectantly, labeled “Stamina” the bar filled to the brim, above it, another bar, very familiar to me, “Magic”  The bar is only a fifth full however and doesn’t seem to be rising at all.

In the upper right there’s little meter indicating Radiation exposure, it ticks idly and underneath it is a box with the number five in it, labeled “RADs”.

“Hey, Sweets.” I call out.

She turns from her box and looks at me, “What’s up?”

“My PipBuck just booted up its EFS.”

She moves over to me and watches my face closely, “I’ve heard about those before, little images in your eyes?”

I nod slowly, taking in the information at a trickle.  I cast my gaze around the room, allowing the EFS to give me detailed information on the area around me.  A message appears in the upper right of my view,

Location Discovered: Bridle Shores Bay, Coast

That’s when I notice the four red bars approaching the house from the north-west, heading straight for us as the colour becomes more and more opaque.

“Get down!” I hiss to Sweets, casting my telekinesis out to get the assault rifle.

She drops instinctually and reaches into the smaller of her saddle-bags, recovering a large revolver from within and drawing the hammer back with her teeth before looking over at me and raises an eyebrow questioningly.

I point my hoof to the door and whisper, “Four things approaching the house, don’t know what they are, EFS says hostile!”

I expertly draw the slide on the rifle back, checking to make sure the gun isn’t jammed up before leveling it on the doorway.

The bars are bright red now and I can hear hushed voices followed by light hoof-steps.  I lay in wait, ambushing our enemies seems the best tactic here despite them trapping us inside the crumbling house.  I edge closer to the furniture, trying to minimize my profile.

Then one of them trots right through the doorway, the buck is immense his coat is a dull red and he grips a great big shotgun with a drum magazine in his jaw.

He sweeps the room, muzzle flashes lighting up his face as the weapon thunders.

I open fire, the rifle roaring as it spits out bullet after bullet.  As our first assailant is blasted back by the powerful rifle in my magical grasp, one of his comrades rushes in, wildly firing, Sweets surprises me when her revolver barks a report and the top of the attacker’s head is blown clean off, his gun clattering to the floor near me.  Sweets then gets up, punches her hoof through one of the boards and fires the revolver again, getting a satisfying cry of pain.

I leap up and out the door in one swift motion, my rifle roars again peppering the pitiful leather that covers the already wounded brown buck.  His blood sprays as he is thrown head over hind hooves in a flip before my rifle chokes up on an empty chamber, the magazine spent.  I drop the magazine but am knocked aside by the fourth attacker, an olive mare wielding a nasty looking knife in her teeth, trying to slide it into my the soft tissue of my throat.

Struggling against the mare, I grunt and cry out in surprise as dirty, white hooves connect with the olive green mare’s head.  She is thrown several meters back into the dirt, Sweets spins around, levels the barrel of the revolver and bites the bit hard, the revolver kicks up and the olive mare stops moving, blood spattering a neat line behind her head as it begins to pool under her.

The area seems awfully quiet, I can even hear blood dripping from one of the ones we dealt with inside as it patters onto the floorboards.

“Thanks” I say, retrieving my rifle as I get up from the ground, slipping a fresh magazine home and retrieving the empty one for later use.

She gives a snort in disgust, “Bandits, they must’ve been tracking us, saw I’m carrying a load and wanted to cash in on the goods themselves.”  She turns to me, “They didn’t count on a war pony now did they?”

I raise an eyebrow but nod all the same.

“See what I mean by kill or be killed, Aid?  These ponies had no problem blowing holes in us or slitting our throats, that’s what its like mostly everywhere now, very few ponies are actually, genuinely good.”

She leads me back inside and inspects the first Bandit’s gear.

“Nice work with those two, you just went all cool and calculating, blowing holes in them left right front and center.  Might be that my gut feeling about you was right after all, you’re a pony capable of surviving out here.”

I lift the shotgun and inspect it, it’s an Ironshod riot shotgun, the drum is usually loaded with fifteen, twenty gauge buckshot shells, the weapon wasn’t in all that bad of a condition.  I carefully unload it, eject the shell and put it aside.

The smell quickly builds, one of the bucks had a bowel motion during the attack, likely as they were dying.  Sweets strips them all of their valuables and stashes them into her saddle bags.  I scavenge a pack from the male I shot outside and place the riot shotgun into it.  I feel calmly disconnected from the entire situation, the death I caused isn’t really eating at me as much as I thought it would.

Sweets pushes a rifle into my view, interrupting my internal reflection.

“Care to dismantle that for a mare in distress?” she half jokes before attempting to do the same with the assault rifle one of the Bandits had used.

I examine the long range weapon momentarily before stripping it right down to its rotting, timber stock and bundling all the components into one of Sweets’ saddle bags, I then help her with the assault rifle, placing that in the pack as well.

“Thanks,” she says dejectedly, I realize I showed her up but don’t bother apologizing, it would only compound the problem further.

I take one last look at the house, filled with four dead ponies, Bandits I remind myself, before I trot up beside Sweets as she begins heading North once more, following a trail I couldn’t see, probably using the mountains on our left as a guide.

She flicks part of her orange mane from her eyes and glances over at me.

“So, how’s your first day in the wastes going for you?” She asks.

I don’t answer, having seen Canterlot in ruins near the horizon was horrific enough, all the rest of it was too much to even comprehend.  Foal steps was how I was going to tackle the situation.  Scanning the hills around us for any kind of activity, I sigh when there’s no hint of even a bunny.  Somehow I believe that what I was used to before, was not how it was now.  Even a harmless bunny could have turned into something horrible all these years after.

It certainly seemed like the wastes did everything they could to make your life miserable.

* * *

We hunker down for night under an overhanging boulder, Sweets refusing to make a fire, worried we might attract unwanted attention, instead she passes me a rusted, dented tin from her pack and places her own tin in front of her before sealing the pack once more and placing it against the log I had dragged over to the cover.

I pop the tin open and see the contents within.  Hundred and forty year old beans.  Yum.

“Eat up,” Sweets says before upending the can into her mouth and chewing.

I tentatively sniff at the beans before pouring some out into my mouth and chewing, they taste a little stale but otherwise aren’t worse for wear.  I finish my tin and crumple it, placing it beside the log.

“So who’s this client you’re meeting?” I ask, striking up some conversation.

She seems to consider the question for a time before answering, “Old friend, she loves her Sparkle Cola Rad, I asked a favor of her and she agreed as long as I brought her some Rad back in return.”

I nod, “What was the favor?”

“Just needed her to put her talent to use...”

Before I can press further, she lays down and rolls over, facing away from me.  Question time is clearly over fillies and colts.  I bite my tongue and lay down myself, rifle only a meter away in case we get ambushed again before closing my eyes and allowing my mind to wander down dark paths.

Foot Note

Level Up!

Survival + 10

Perk: Situational Awareness

With your EFS active you always know what’s going on around you, some might even think you can see the future and even sneaky ponies find it hard to get the drop on you!

Chapter 3

Fallout: Equestria

Forgotten - Chapter 3

“The art of war”

“Medic!” somepony shouts over the cacophony of gunfire and explosions.

I dive out of cover and down a dirt slope, catching glimpses of ponies and zebras alike, laying beside sandbags, in ditches, on top of one another, dying or already dead.  As I hit the ground, I begin crawling towards the pony calling out for help and show him my red-cross cutie mark.

“Corporal Aid, just sit still, I’ll patch you up.” I shout over the din, dropping my standard issue rifle onto the hard packed dirt and retrieving some bandages from my saddle bag.

The soldier holds still, showing me the bullet wound on his thigh, just below his cutie mark.  I check and find the bullet went through cleanly, however he wouldn’t be charging headlong into battle if he couldn’t walk on all four legs.  I disinfect the wound and bandage it before shouting, “There, that should keep it for a bit.  Can you crawl?  We need to move back behind the machine guns for cover!”

He nods and I lead the way, darting into cover behind hastily laid out sandbags, ignoring the sound of bullets whizzing over my head.  Helmets didn’t do much if you got hit directly, I’ve seen the results of a perfectly placed shot, they went clean through.

I’m forced to push a corpse out of my way, ignoring the drying pool of blood where it had been, I don’t dare to stop lest my curiosity gets the better of me, better to leave it as a corpse than a friend.

I crane my neck around and see the buck dragging himself along behind me,  We come to a section where the sandbags had been blown apart by an explosive and I curse under my breath before leaping into cover on the other side, I hear the bullets slamming into the dirt wall on my right, little dust clouds burst from the impacts as the zebra machine gun emplacements strafe after me.

Landing behind the sandbags, I turn around and motion for the buck to do the same, he shakes his head and I shout as guns roar overhead, “DO IT!”

He struggles up and leaps...

* * *

I wake up in a cold sweat, my breathing is heavy and I thrash my fore-hooves in a mild panic.  Sweets shoots right up, revolver leveled as she scans the tree trunks for hostiles.

“What!?” she hisses around the bit of the revolver.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath I then exhale before responding, “Nightmare, is all.”

She splutters in frustration, spitting the revolver out onto the ground and rounding on me.

“You woke me up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare?  You nearly scared me half to death, Aid!  I thought Raiders had come to pull my eyes from their sockets!” She cries out, clearly frustrated.

I maintain her stare, not backing down.  “I’ll remember to not have a nightmare next time.” I say smartly, a little harshly even.

Then there was the young soldier who I was trying to escort to safety... I had a sinking feeling about what happened next.  Trying to take my mind off of the nightmare, I gaze up at the cloud layer that looms above, not even the night sky peeks through it in the slightest and I begin to wonder why it’s so thick when Sweets gets up.

“Can’t sleep?” She asks, her voice gruff.

I shake my head in response and continue to search for even the slightest gap in the layer of dark clouds.

“Neither can I.  What’re you looking for, Aid?” she adds, rubbing her eyes with her hooves.

Turning my head to her, I click my tongue idly before answering, “The cloud layer’s been just as thick since yesterday morning.”

She snorts, “Yeah, somepony might think you’ve had your head in a stable your entire life, but since I know better... as the bombs went off, apparently the Pegasus Enclave closed up the sky, shrouding all of Equestria in this dark cloud cover.  Haven’t seen hide nor tail of them since.”

As she finishes, she fishes out a bottle of dirt water from her packs and offers it to me.  I shake my head, declining it and return to my musing as she begins talking once more, “You’ve got to drink, I know you aren’t used to drinking dirty water all the time but I’ve lived off the stuff my entire life, I’m fine.”  She raises her fore legs up and shows me her chest as if it will prove her point.

I put it simply, “Not thirsty.”

Sweets tilts the bottle up, downing the entire contents. I click my tongue again, in distaste, but say nothing to keep from proving her right.

She finishes and places the empty bottle back in her saddle bag, wiping her mouth with her left hoof.

“So...” she pauses, seemingly unsure of how to continue.

Anticipating the question already I begin, “Dawn Bay, on the front lines just under the machine guns suppressing the defending Zebra forces... a young buck, barely of age to enlist calls for a medic.  I leap over the sandbags and down into the cover to do my job.  I patch the buck up and lead him along the sandbags, closer to our gunners, to  safety where I can risk healing his wound instead of just wrapping it up.”

Sweets leans close, eyes wide.

“Guns roar overhead and below I can hear the report of our own soldiers firing at the Zebras.  Bullets hit anything and everything, it’s a miracle I’d made it that far.  I could hear ponies and zebras alike, dying further down the slope, my heart ached to help them, to stop the pain and wrap their wounds, give them rest... it was what I did, I helped ponies.  The young buck and I dragged ourselves through dirt and blood, pushing past the already cold corpses of our comrades, brothers and sisters who died in the line of duty. We finally reach a section of bags that have been obliterated by some sort of explosive.  I dive over the stretch, landing behind the bags on the other side, the Zebras strafe after me with their machine guns but can’t keep up, the rounds blowing hoof sized chunks out of the dirt wall.  I turn to the buck, motion for him to do the same as our machine guns begin their volley to suppress the Zebras.  He pushes himself up and leaps-”

I stop, choking on my own guilt.  Looking up into those orange eyes, I somehow find the courage to press on.

“But the Zebra’s used our own guns against us, they ignore the suppressive fire and strafe the buck with their own guns.  I-I watch as he’s hit with round after round, slicing right through him.  He hits the dirt just in front of me.  Somehow he’s still alive, there’s too much blood, too many bullets got through his barding.  There isn’t enough time to patch him up again and I couldn’t risk any magic or the glow would give our position away and they’d just unload on us.”

I look out at the horizon through the trees, I can almost see the scene right there in front of me.

“I had to pick him up, throw him on my back and carry him back to cover where the others could help.  I began scrambling up the slopes, toppling down behind bags and over cowering soldiers as I near the top.  His blood runs in rivers down my sides and stains my armour, I could feel the fight leaving his body.”

I stomp a hoof, tears well up and blur my vision as emotional pain racks my body.

"He was just barely old enough to enlist... and I got him all shot up." I begin to sob.

Sweets reaches out and presses her hoof against my shoulder in an effort to calm me, comfort me even.

“Hey, how could you have known the Zebra’s would anticipate your next move?  Even if you didn’t try and lead him back, he would have died some way or another, maybe he would have tried crawling back up himself and the same thing happening?  Save the blame for when you do fuck up, Aid.  Believe me.” She finishes with a pensive look.

I shake my head, the memory is still raw in my mind like a fresh wound. I have a feeling that there is something more to the memory and dream than the buck getting shot, something important that I can’t quite remember.

“I guess there is a silver lining in all of this though.” I say thoughtfully, turning to look at Sweets.  She raises her eyebrows and I continue, “Atleast I know for sure that the ponies I’m fighting now are bad natured or started the fight first... the Zebras were mostly forced into the war despite their wishes. I can’t imagine a tyrannical leadership ordering me to my death.”

She nods slowly, thinking it over for a while.  Of course I realise that Equestria is nothing like it used to be, it’s not a happy place, and definitely not a safe place to live.  The bandits just the day before are a great indicator that ponies will do and do anything they can to survive, even at the expense of others.  And despite that going against everything I know and believe in, it makes a sick kind of sense to me.

Sweets is rummaging through her packs and pulls out several items, mostly cooking utensils, I realise she wants to make an early breakfast and quickly drag the log over, smashing it up with my hooves so we have firewood.