Fallout Equestria: On the Wings of Eagles

by AnarchyArcher

Rating: mature
Tags: Fallout, Alternate Universe, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other, Adventure
Length: 4305

The story of Hawkens, a griffin loner wandering the wasteland. Preludes the story- *ERROR* *INFORMATION CORRUPTED* *ERROR*.

This is a short story about a middle-aged griffon named Hawkens that was orphaned in his late childhood. He had to survive on his own after losing his family, never giving up hope that he'd find them once more.

This is a one-shot I wrote in passing for the character I submitted to This Story. May or may not explore his past in the future, but until further notice this story is completed.

If wanted, I see no problem continuing this tale.

Published 2013-06-18 03:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-18 03:40:02 UTC

Hawkens

Hawken's Tale

By AnarchyArcher, as an introduction of sorts of one of my characters.

One does not often find themselves staring into space in the Equestrian wasteland, it's simply too dangerous and gets many ponies killed. I like it personally, especially in the morning when I'm staring at the decaying roof above my head and I ask myself if I should even bother to get up. Gives a guy time to get his shots lined up for the day and figure out why he keeps walking this lonely road...

'Who am I kidding. I still need to find those bastards and kill every last one of them. I won't-... I can't rest well and good until then.'

I yawned, stretching my legs and wings. My hind legs poked out the open bottom of my bedroll, through holes in the worn cloth. The sudden contact with the outside air made my body shiver, and I reflexively curled back up into a ball in the bag.

'Come on, it's just a little cold out. You're more than a wimpy pile of feathers...'

Slipping out of my bedroll, I sleepily made my way away from the corner of the decrepit room. I passed by the double bed that I elected not to sleep on - the mattress had smelled disgusting, and the stains implied that slavers had sampled some of their merchandise there - and to the pretty much untouched fireplace. The night before I had gotten a small pile of wood for it, namely from the stairs that nopony would be needing.

After a few trying minutes with a flint and steel, I made a little fire in the fireplace to cook some breakfast. As it warmed up, I rolled up my pretty skimpy bedroll, poking at the few holes in it. The ones that my legs had gone out of earlier were easily the largest, but the rest of the bag were starting to unravel.

“Looks like I am gonna have to patch you soon...” I sighed, stuffing it into a small leg pouch I had customized for it.

Closing the pouch, I turned to the cracked mirror in the corner. Using one of the larger pieces, I looked myself over. I am not handsome, at least by any means I know. From under my messy head of feathers, my one blue eye looks back at me almost sadly. The scar that took the other eye still hurts sometimes. The eyepatch makes it look a little better, but not much.

Sighing, I went to the boarded up window next to which I had been sleeping. There had been a hoof-sized gap between the boards, so I had put a sniper rifle I had found up next to it if need be. Looking out I saw the little ghost town I had spent the night in.

It was a small place in the middle of the wastes, all wooden, crumbling buildings. One main road lead down the middle of town, right past the window. It was like those towns in that old western vid I had once seen....

Sorry, I probably introduce myself.

My name is Hawkens - and yes, I know that is an ironic name for a griffin. I brought it up once with my parents, but they never did give me an answer to why I am called that. Not that they can anymore....

But that is not important, I was telling you about myself.

I am a fairly well-built griffin if I do say so myself, however, I probably could do with a bath. I know that my feathers started as shades of greys and browns, but this wasteland grime gets everywhere ya know? Maybe that water tower outside still has some clean water...

As you can probably tell, I haven’t been here long. I arrived last night, clearing out a room before it got too dark. I’m a loner, roaming around hunting raiders and slavers. Wasn’t always this way, once I had a family. We were part of a caravan that travelled around, at least until they spoiled that. One time when we were stopping at a town that we frequently we made stops at, we were ambushed by well-equipped raiders.

They waited until we were right in the center of town before springing their trap. A fine net over the rooftops stopped my family from flying away, and on all sides raiders closed in. The only reason I was spared was because I had been lazy and hid away when we first gotten to town. I got to watch how all my friends and family were beaten and stolen away from my perch on the rooftops.

It was then when I lost my eye, as I made one attempt to save them, only to get that wound and flee in fright from the laughing raiders. Only now do I know that they had wanted my family alive, so they were slavers, but raiders are still scum in my book.

A noise outside shakes me out of my nostalgia for those times. The Equestrian Wastes aren’t kind, and sometimes a little noise is all the warning you get.

I grab my pouch, securing it to a hind leg. In the next few moments I make sure my most valuable asset is secure under my wings, then grab my bandolier of grenades. I almost picked up the rifle to look out the window, but instead I smile, walking back across the room to grab my hat.

A triviality for some, but I'd rather get shot a few times then leave it behind.

It’s a leather ‘Boss of the Plains’ hat that once was my father’s. Instead of a cloth band around the base, there is a ring of barbed wire that apparently belonged to some old bird from my family. If I was asked, I would say it’s my most treasured possession.

When I went back over to the window and started to pick up the rifle when I saw them out the slit in the boards. A group had quietly trundled into town, unheard thanks to the boiling water in the fireplace. They had on bloody armor, of the kind only raiders would have. There was a cart being pulled by two stallions that look like they have been beaten. I spotted two battle saddles along with other more mundane weapons. However it wasn’t that which scared me.

It was the way they were looking at the building I was in. I had chosen the only two-story building on purpose, taking a room on the second floor and sabotaging the stairs so I was relatively safe.
It was also one of the most decrepit, so they couldn’t possibly want to stay in here. Unless they knew I was in here...

The boiling water sounded that much louder as I looked over at the fire. It was smoking, sending up a line leading right to this room.

“Buck...” I whispered.

At that moment I heard the stairs collapse, the ponies cursing loudly.

I lifted the rifle, sighting out the window. There was one pony with sturdier armor than most, and he was the one I targeted. When I saw the hoof-necklace around his neck, I lost any doubt that I would pull the trigger.

*BANG*

“Crap!”

The bullet flew a few inches to the left of the stallion’s head, hitting another in the leg. The group was immediately attentive, either diving for cover or shooting wildly into the air. As I tried to reload, I saw the lead pony roll his eyes. I saw him yell out to some of the hiding ponies.

“Det! You and your brother get out here!”

I dropped the round, having to reach down to pick it up. When I got back up, the street was empty except for the leader and two others. One of the others wore a battle saddle, the other wore two ammo crates over his sides. I looked down at the weapon on the saddle, was that, it couldn’t be could it?

The one with the ammo crates turned to the leader, saluting.

“All ready to fire sir!”

I saw the leader rub his hoof against the hooves around his neck as he glanced up at the window I was in. His mouth formed the inevitable word, and I knew exactly what I had to do.

“Fire.”

I dropped the rifle, stepping away from the window. There was barely time to leap into the hallway outside my room before it exploded. The blast knocked me head over tail into the room across.

Luckily the moldy mattress I had neglected to sleep on last night was still there. However it was even more disgusting when one finds one’s beak embedded in it.

After I got my beak out and straightened my hat, I heard attempts to get up the stairs. In particular, a whoop of glee.

“Alright boys! Let’s see what we got in here!”

I slid next to the door as a unicorn stallion galloped to the room I had been in. He looked put out when he saw it was a smoking crater. I noticed that in a magical aura next to him was a semi-automatic rifle.

‘That would be nice...’ I began to think, before slapping my forehead. ‘Except I can’t aim for shit.’

The sound caught the pony’s attention, sending the barrel of the rifle spinning around to face me. The two of us saw eye-to-eye for a second, in which I saw he was just as afraid as I was. Then I saw that sparkle fade as he lowered his head and gritted his teeth.

‘I am not going to die today!’ I thought fiercely, jumping at the window opposite the door.

The unicorn opened fire, but only managed to hit all around me. He weakened the boards around the window, allowing me to burst through onto the roof of the adjacent building. Debris spiralled down into the alley between buildings as the unicorn ran out of ammo, at which he swore, looking for another clip.

I didn’t give him another chance to fire, darting behind a chimney. I attempted to slow my gasping breaths, to not give away my position. However, that wasn’t quite possible.

“There! Fire!” rang out from the street.

The raiders had crawled out after my room was destroyed, and were now all standing in the road. I gulped when I realized all their guns were aimed at me.

“Crap!”

I kicked off from the chimney in time to have to effectively blown away by a wind of lead. My claws gripped the roof as I tried to to stay ahead of it myself. The lead rain of bullets blew apart the space behind me, splintering the wooden roof and sending splinters everywhere.

‘I should have never started making that stew!’ I thought hopelessly.

Then my claws slipped. I tripped, hitting my head hard on the roof. My momentum made me spin sideways, off the edge of the roof. My vision swam, the world spiraling around before going black. I didn't even feel myself hit the ground.

[hl]

Next thing I knew, I was getting slapped with the back of a hoof. My eyes shot open, registering the face that was quite too close for me. A scarred face, with a hoof necklace and blood stained armor. His teeth were blackened and yellow, some even sharpened. It made for a very intimidating look, which made me almost try to flee at the sight of it. I had a hard time breathing as I looked at it.

'But raiders just shoot the ones that flee... No use.' I reassured myself. 'Calm down, and think this through-...'

“What do we have here boys?” It laughed, standing up. Then I realized he had his forelegs on my chest, and that was why I could barely breathe.

I glanced around nervously. There was a ring of raiders around us, guns aimed at me. I saw a very wide assortments of weapons, from assault rifles to sharpened shovels. They leered back at me, showing filthy broken teeth. I spotted my hat a few steps behind the leader, a hoofmark on the brim.

“Looks like we got a grounded birdy!" he declared, playing the crowd, "What good is one of those?”

“None!” they shouted back.

"That's right!" He agreed, taking his forelegs off my chest.

I started to get to my feet, but a quick jab from his right forelegs hit me between the eyes and made me see stars for a few seconds.

"Well, it looks like he can join our little crew then!" the head pony continued.

The others looked confused, and only a few half-hearted "Yeah!"s were called out. Many of them looked like they wanted to eat me instead.

"I mean," the leader corrected, "Join our supplies!"

This got a full roar of the crowd, to which the leader nodded to and stepped away from me.

I got unsteadily got up, making sure to make no sudden movements. The raiders followed me with their weapons. One particularly over-enthusiastic colt jabbed at me with a sharpened shovel. I flinched as it sliced down my hindquarters, cutting some of my feathers and leaving a fair sized gash. Clamping my beak shut, I glared back at the lead pony.

“What?” he spat, starting to walk around me. “Disappointed? Thinking about how much of a fledgling you were to put up a signal fire?”

“Wasn’t a signal fire...” I muttered.

“Well, you got what you wanted didn’t you?”

He leaned in close to whisper into my ear.

“You get a chance to be a slave.”

‘Slave...’

The word echoed through my head. It made me remember.

“They were slavers...” I murmured.

“What?” the lead stallion asked.

“The ones who ambushed us...”

The stallion shook his head, turning away from me.

“This one’s attic’s rattled! Put him with the others!”

‘OTHERS.’ That changed everything.

The slavers cleared a line to the cart I had seen earlier. From where I was now I could see into the back. There was a mare tied up in the back, with tatters of what once was a dress. There was also two foals, beaten and bloody. From the tears in their eyes I could tell that their lives with these monsters had NOT been pleasant.

Suddenly I was shoved, hard, and sprawled in the dirt. Looking back, I saw a bulky earth pony snarling at me.

“Get in the cart, featherbrain.”

A plan started to form in my head as I rose, feeling all my things were where they should be. Including the grenades that were strapped across my breast. Swiping my hat off the ground, I started pacing toward the cart. The slavers stalked after me, making sure I had no chance to flee.

‘Suckers...’

After taking a deep breath I tripped, or it looked like I did. As I hit the ground, I stuck my claws under my chest grabbing two of the grenades.

“Get up maggot!”

“Alright, alright...” I said softly, slowing pushing off the ground.

I got up, simultaneously popping the pins on the explosives and sending them rolling back at the most of the slavers. I was able to get three good steps away before any of them noticed. Then there was yelling, complete and utter confusion as one pony tried to escape or throw a grenade away. It spread through their ranks like wildfire and in a matter of seconds nopony was watching what little old me was up to.

The only one to notice was their leader, that stallion was smart. His eyes watched me after he had gotten himself sufficiently away from the grenades. Not that his yelling for them to 'Get Him!' did anything except rile his troops up more.

In all this chaos, I darted to the cart. As I slid up beside it I yelled to the to ponies hooked up.

“Go! Get out of here! I'll keep them off your tail!”

They didn’t need to be told twice, galloping off towards the wasteland horizon. As it rolled away, I saw one of the foals smile at me. I want to guess it was a colt, because he wasn't in nearly the bad condition as the mare, but that foal's smile made this worth it.

'One random act of kindness...' I thought a little sadly.

I turned around in time for the grenades to explode, sending bloody giblets of most of the slaver flying all over the town. The grenades had been high explosive, with enough pure explosive power to make somepony's bones break at five yards. A particularly nasty chunk hit me in the face, knocking my hat off. I had to wipe my foreleg across my face just to see again.

It wasn’t pretty. High explosives and flesh and blood never does paint a pretty picture. But it was satisfying to see that the slavers had been pretty much wiped out. Some were still moaning faintly as I walked through, namely the ones who had been near the edge of the blast, but a swift kick to the head silenced them. I counted the ponies I remembered seeing as I wiped my hat off and replaced it on my head. I saw the big one that pushed me, the one that had shot at me as I leapt out the window, the ones that had fired the grenade launcher at me...

I looked the heavy weapon over a few times and shook my head.

“Broken. Maybe some grenades left?”

I looked for the ammo crates that the other had been carrying. As I did so, a thought crossed my mind.

There had been two battle-saddles.

Where was the other one?

I looked around frantically, trying to find it.

That was when I heard it. The clattering of a ammo belt being hooked in. The slam of the first shot being pre-loaded.

Slowly I turned around, to see the leader standing behind me. He wore a battle saddle with a gatling gun on either side, barely strapped on. I expect he didn't have much time to rip it off the original owner and put it on. His glare cut deep, but I stood my ground. I saw the other brother, the one with the ammo crates, standing behind him.

“You thought you would kill us off did you!?!” the slaver yelled.

The stallion’s once cool and collected outlook was gone. What was left in its place was less than either.

“Slavers killed my family.” I spat, turning to face him straight on. “Ruined my life and countless others. I thought I might as well do the same.”

The leader flipped the saddle’s firing bit into position.

“Thought so?! THOUGHT SO!?! I got news for you pal, you just killed my men, and I rather liked them! And now you’re gonna pay...”

As he revved up the guns, I did some quick calculations. The stallion was about ten yards away from me, but at that range those guns would make quick work of me. I shifted my wings uneasily, trying not to picture myself as a holey, bloody corpse. It had been awhile since I had a reason to use my homemade main weapon, making my wings a bit stiff.

“Congratulations.” I smiled suddenly.

“What?” the slaver responded, a hint of confusion crossing his face.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had to use these...”

I rubbed my wings around, making sure they were hooked in. I took a wider stance and sank my claws into the foul ground.

“Use what you blubbering idiot?” he spat.

I smirked, winking my good eye underneath the brim of my hat. The last thing that someone wants to see in a gunfight.

“These!”

I spread my wings open wide, pulling the small string attached to each. The leader’s eyes followed the string down under my wings to the specially made twin double-barreled sawed-off shotguns loaded with my homemade buckshot. He tried to bite down on the bit to open fire, but the shotguns went off first, unleashing four barrels of slaver-killing goodness. It tore apart the leader, as the small pieces of metal shredded his features. I caught a glimpse of a single piece sail straight through his head, sending blood soaring out the other side. He was dead before he hit the ground.

As for the other, I would have liked to keep him alive. From what I had saw, he did not participate in the killing. However, my shotguns had the final word. Some of the scatter shot penetrated the ammo crates on his back, touching off the grenades. The poor colt exploded, killed by his own supplies.

I stood in the middle of a ghost town for a few minutes in that position, wings raised with my feathers fouled by blood and grime. I had to blink a few times to get the after images of the explosion out of my vision. Slowly I shifted, looking around. After a couple minutes I felt comfortable with walking, but my nostrils seemed to be on fire from the stench.

“This... this is disgusting. Let’s see if there’s any water in that water tower...”

[hl]

A short bath later, in what was probably the cleanest water I’d seen in the wastes, I felt renewed. It had been slightly irradiated I think, because my feathers tingled the whole time I was there, but it had none of the dirt that other places would have had. It was almost an hour later when I had made sure of my belongings and gotten ready to set out. After eating a little food that I had and reloading my shotguns, I was pretty much ready to go.There wasn't much I could do about the carnage in the street, besides taking a look at weapons and supplies. The cart had gone off to who knows where, but I had high hopes that the five ponies with it would be safe.

I stretched my wings before putting my shotgun harness back on, then made sure I had everything I needed. Looking up at the midday sun, I smiled a little.

“Well, that was a good job done before breakfast.” I chuckled, sitting down in a spot clear of any blood.

I took a claw and scratched a notch for every raider there had been into one of the barrels of my shotguns. The twelve I added joined others, leaving thirty eight marks on it.

“Maybe next time I’ll be luckier and be at least awake before I’m shot at.”

I walked out of town quietly, leaving the mess to the radroaches and other beasts of the wastes.

[hl]

It was a quiet day, as compared to the morning. I made good time walking across the wastes, and while not as good as flying, it didn’t draw ridiculous amounts of attention to myself. I'd heard tales of some Dashites who had tried to outsmart the raiders by flying, and got shot down just because they were such a good target.

About mid afternoon I stopped on a ridge for a late lunch, unpacking what I needed and just plopping myself down on the edge. My ‘trail rations’ were not exactly the most delicious, so I lost myself in looking at what I could from my perch. For a nuclear wasteland, it wasn't a half-bad view. Would've been better if it had something more than sun-bleached rocks, but I guess that's the world these days. I was almost done when an explosion made me drop my food. After noting it had come from below and not from behind, I spared a sad look after the remains of the slightly moldy sandwich. Upon determining it inedible, I peered off in the direction of the sound. It did not take long with my eyes to come to rest on what looked like a pegasus and a robot.

The former was red with silvery-looking wings that gleamed in the midday sun. Prosthetics if I’d ever seen them, which I actually hadn't. His mane was fiery red and orange, and I just couldn’t make out his cutie mark at this range. As for the latter, it looked more like a vehicle than a pony with its two wheels mounted right in front of each other, but when it tilted the monitor on its front towards me I spotted a pony face with a cowboy hat. I also caught sight of two heavy weapons mounted on either side of it, a machine gun and a gatling gun that gave me horrible flashbacks to the morning’s events. That wasn't counting the large pauldrons on either side of the monitor that I was sure to hold more destructive goodies. I ducked down just in case, but from the look it had shot in my direction I knew it must be aware I was here.

After a few minutes of watching I saw them part company, the robot rolling off towards what I believe would be New Pegasus judging from the tower in the distance, and the pegasus moving about parallel to the ridge. I shrugged and started off along after him, careful to stay out of sight.

‘If you're that color, you’re practically certain to draw attention to yourself...’ I thought. ‘No idiot would stand out in the open like that... There must be something I’m missing. Some group covering him?’

As I probed the landscape around for this phantom group, I noticed his wings were sparking.

‘Faulty tech? He’s looking more and more like a raider...’

Then I saw him start running flat out, to promptly trip and slide to a stop on his face.

It was the funniest thing I’d seen all day.

Whew.

If only I knew.....