Fallout Equestria: Inertia

Fallout: Equestria

Inertia

Prologue

“The day I lay down my flag, it’ll be over my body, or over a nation I believe in.”

Clouds are strange. They feel strange. It seems like they break all rules of logic and reason, yet don’t really do anything. I don’t know. Being a pegasus, I happen to have a natural affinity for air travel and cloud walking. But still, walking on water sort of irked me. Such is life in the Enclave, I suppose. Waking up at the crack of dawn, getting to the showers first, heading to whatever thing the universe decides. But I digress; I tend to ramble when showering.

        I reached over and grab the bottle of Enclave-approved body wash. It didn’t really have a smell. Actually, it smelled like clouds. Prying open the cap with the flick of a hoof, I poured the recommended amount soap onto my chocolate coat. Lathering the goop up, I spread it around. After washing my mane and pelt, I step out of the tiny stall used for showering to grab a towel.

        As I open the cabinet in the bath house, a bugle blared in the distance. Wake up call.

Poor saps. No hot water left, I smirked to myself.

I stepped in front of the mirror to style my mane. Dark purple on top of a chocolatey brown coat. Sexy, huh? Gazing up and down my body, I decide that since I’m a stallion, it didn’t mean a ghoul’s ass. I trotted onto the path towards my company’s barracks. Glancing over to the east, I set my eyes over the cloud farms. Unicorn magic allowed us to farm on the clouds themselves, effectively ensuring our survival. It tasted like radroach, though. It was the only thing eaten in the Enclave anyways, so I didn’t have a choice.

Working for the Enclave wasn’t all bad, really. Sure, it got boring, but it was routine. Eventually, drowning out the sounds became simple, and so did labor. Passing by the bulletin board, I glance over to see if anything new was posted. Nighthoof, our own courier, if you will, was always a night owl.

The Enclave is the best!

The surface failed the test!

Since I arrived up in Neighvarro, or should I stay shipped, propaganda seemed to be everywhere. Down in the wastes of Equestria, the only propaganda was fear. Reapers, raiders, Steel Rangers, the Collegiate, and the Enclave itself was making itself out as the best. I came from just outside The Hoof, so my family really only worried about cannibalistic raiders and looters.

I finally arrived at the barracks, which wasn’t a sight to behold. Cloud walls, cloud doors, cloud beds, lockers, sheets, and everything but the kitchen sink, which ironically was made of clouds. I looked around, and most of the bunks were empty, except for one. A frizzy, rust colored mane contrasted the whiteness, and I could tell it was Deadshot Calamity.

Deadshot was the pride of my company. The son of a famous commander, and brother to other famous enclave personnel, he was the first to welcome me above the cloud cover. He was the poster buck for our little outpost, and for the Engineering Corps.

“Hey Clams, wake up!” I shouted as I flipped him out of the bed.

“Whahuh?! Oh, mornin’, Jury. What time is it?” He asked, the haze of sleep clouding his senses.

“It’s Oh-Six-Fifty, hon. You slept in.” I replied curtly.

“Aw hell! I gotta git ready!” He said, suddenly wide awake.

He ran off before I got a chance to say anything. I turned around and trotted over to my footlocker.

2, 49, 31, 12. My subconscious informed me of the combination.

I yanked out my uniform and squirmed into it. It fit perfectly, fortunately. I’m a stallion, but due to my... feministic build, she insisted on giving me a mare’s uniform, on which I publicly acted reluctant, but was relieved internally. Next, I put on my buck tags.

Jury Rig

231-23-9420

O -

Engineering Corps.

My name, ID number, blood type, and specialization, all printed on a small necklace. Before I close the locker, I glance at a worn jacket at the bottom of the pile. My last memory of the wastes. When I was a colt, my brother Scoutwing and I were the only pegasi in my family. When I was 14, and he 17, the Enclave had a secret program going on, in which all pegasi deemed worthy were plucked from the wastes, and brought to the “future” of the world. My family were to be killed, had we not complied. Scout and I decided it was better if we left. And so our Enclave lives came to be.

It was alright at first. We arrived at Thunderhead together, and were put into an accelerated schooling regimen. My father though, hailing from an all earth pony stable, had brought university level teaching material with him, and had taught all of my siblings and I the best they could, which was pretty damn good. We breezed the class, but not before learning the betrayal of Rainbow Dash and the founding of the glorious Enclave. For three years, we worked up, going from surface scum to alright dudes. But it came crashing down when Specialization Day came around.

That day marked the last truly happy day I’ve had for awhile. Each recruit was sent to do rigorous tests based on their cutie marks, in hopes of specializing. However, I was and still am a blank-flank. Never knew why, either. I’m good at all sorts of things, and I’m not bragging. I’m a spectacular marksmen, smashing all records at the camp, I have a top-notch IQ, and I’m fantastic at tinkering with things. Hence the name, Jury Rig.

Being a blank-flank threw me a curveball, though. My brother was sent to recon, due to his incredibly quick and agile movements and flying, as well as his strength. But me? I was worthless to them, and I thought that of myself until I came across a small test booth titled, “Engineering Corps.” I knew that the Engie Corps. was a select group of insanely talented ponies with a hard-on for tech, and I, sporting a metaphorical wingboner of epic proportions, immediately went over.

At first, they wouldn’t let me take it.

“No cutie mark, no how.” They said.

All it took was a seductive whisper and a bat of the lashes, and I was in. I aced the test, needless to say, and was overjoyed. Scout even passed his tests! It was perfect! And then he left. Gone out of the blue. Never even said goodbye. I took a dark turn from there. Leaving for Neighvarro was three months from then, and I had nothing else. I don’t like to think about what happened in that time. It sucked ass. Once I got to Neighvarro, things became steadier, and it’s been five years since I got here.

Glancing up from my daydream, I shook my head and made for the door. Suddenly, a wild douchenozzle appeared.

“Sup, coltcuddler.” A douchey sounding voice spoke.

“Hi, Whirling Dervish. What do you want?” I asked the douche.

“Oh nothing, just for you to do me a favor.” He replied.

“And what in Celestia’s good name could that be?” I inquired, getting impatient.

“Kill yourself.” He said.

        “I’ll sleep on it.” I replied, hopping up and kissing him on the cheek as I fluttered past him.

        I didn’t like him at all, it just pisses him off. I turned and winked at him, and a blush came through his blue coat.

        “F- Fuck you, marebuck! I- I’ll- Auugh!” He stammered in anger.

        I can’t say he isn’t cute though. Mohawked navy mane, with a sky blue pelt. He wasn’t wrong on the account of my cuddling of colts, but I didn’t really tell anypony. Didn’t work too well in Thunderhead. Trotting over to the tech building in the distance, a voice blared over the camp’s PA system.

        “ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL! REPORT TO THE BRIEFING ROOM IN OH TWO HUNDRED HOURS. ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.” The voice yelled.

        It was unusual, but I shrugged it off. It was probably just a lecture on the importance of hygiene. I pushed open the doors of the large building and stepped inside.

        “Mornin’ Jury!” Monsoon greeted me, smiling.

        “Morning, ‘Soon!” I replied, winking at the unicorn.

Monsoon was one of the few unicorns working in the Enclave. The only reason they were able to come up to the clouds was because after the mega spells hit, they escaped the burning earth with magic. We need them though, because they keep our gem-powered things in repair. So do I, but I’m not much help if a ruby cracks. She mostly handled secretarial work. I approach an elevator, and press the fifth floor button. I never got why elevators were installed.

I greeted a few more ponies on the way to the Engineering Labs, and stepped into my dojo. I loved it here. It was quiet, and filled with ponies like me. I never got tired of talking about how to make type D spark batteries compatible with other tools. And the best part; it didn’t matter if you were late to work. I got to my workbench and began to work. After fifteen minutes or so of tinkering, in walked Tesla Bolt. A black stallion pegasus with a bleach white mane, he specialized in energy weapons. That’s all the Enclave uses. I specialize in modifying, building and repairing weapons. Again, my name is Jury Rig.

Soon after, in walks Ballista, the ballistics expert. A unicorn mare with a passion for rifling, she goofed with rare bullet-using weapons from the surface. She started working on a carbine in her little cubby. She was usually a quiet one. Later, in walked Spare Part and her marefriend Gunpowder. Spare had the best eyes for finding usable parts. Stick a 10mm pistol under a balefire egg, blow it up, retrieve the melted corpse, and she’ll build a cannon from it. Gunpowder made ammo, and was good at it. I especially liked her signature ‘Splody Cells, microfusion cells that “‘Sploded lots!” according to her. Deadshot Calamity was nowhere to be seen, though.. He was the de facto leader of this team, with his hammer and screwdriver cutie mark. Oh well, I wasn’t about to sit around sucking my hoof. I got to work.

Time flew by, as it usually did, and I was making progress on my project. The head honchos decided to make me see if I can fit a RCW recycler onto a gatling laser. I had managed to solder it on, and had plans to fit it’s siphoning vacuum to absorb some of the emanating energy from electron spark packs. Once I did that, I could set a siphon percentage, too see how many shots it took to make one new one. I liked a five to one ratio.

“ATTENTION! REPORT TO THE BRIEFING ROOM IN TEN MINUTES!” The PA blared.

The rest of my teammates and I packed up, and headed out the door. It was strange for all personnel to be summoned like this, but it didn’t matter. The briefing room was actually a large auditorium on a cloud perch, so Pegasi flew up while unicorns blinked up. We filed into the room, and took our seats. As more ponies arrived, I began to feel like a sardine. An elderly mare stepped onto the stage, and cleared her throat.

“Ahem. Thank you for being here, today. As you know, a patrol, led by none other than Deadshot Calamity has recently returned for the surface. We have asked him to prepare a speech, to inform us of the current situation.” She spoke with a tone of arrogance.

Shortly after, a rust colored stallion stepped onto the stage. He looked nervous, like he didn’t anything to say.

“Ah, uh, thank you for coming. Um, As y’all know, Ah recently returned from the surface, and, heh, well it was bad. There’s famine, and disease, and- aw hell.” He paused, and stomped his hoof. “Listen, the surface ain’t like they says it is. It is hell down there, no doubt, but it’s not a herd o’ angry savages, like you think. Ponies tryin’ to git by! They need our help!”

The audience gasped, me included.

“And it seems crazy, and it is. Twasn’t I thought it’d be! So Ah’ve made a decision. I’m leavin’ the Enclave.” He finished, seeming more confident than he did before.

More gasps from the audience, which were cut off by the loud speaker.

“Deadshot Calamity, report to Commander Borealis’s office. Immediately.” The PA spoke.

As ponies began to file out, the PA spoke again.

“Tesla Bolt, Ballista, Jury Rig, Gunpowder, and Spare Part, please report to Commander Borealis’s office.”

Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Not good. I began to worry. Why’d they want the Engineering Corps.? All of us stopped and stood in a circle.

“Should we go?”

        “What do they want?”

        “Oh no, no, no.”

        I stayed silent. Tesla cleared his throat, and everypony stopped.

        His deep voice rumbled, “Let’s do what Borealis says. It’s better not to piss him off.”

        Everypony nodded in agreement, and we awkwardly trotted to the end of the hall. I found myself thinking of Tesla’s voice. It was the kind of voice that could put even a menstruating Ursa Major to sleep. It was beautiful, really. Rumbling yet still soft. I shook my head as we entered the office. Borealis was nowhere to be seen.

        Slightly confused, it wasn’t until I was grabbed and gagged, did I realize that we were in trouble. My blindfold was pulled off, and I found myself being tied to a chair. This was getting a tad creepy. Kinky, even. A shadow drifted from the corner of the room, and into the dim light stepped Commander Borealis.

        “Why did our most prized soldier choose to go to the surface?” He said, acid in his voice.

        I looked around, and nopony said anything. I didn’t think that any one of my squadmates knew. I didn’t, at least. Borealis turned to me, his icy magenta eyes boring into me.

        “Why are you looking at me?” I tried to say, but only managed a high pitched squeak.

        Suddenly, the floor became very interesting. Borealis began to speak, but paused. As the silence continued, the door flew open, and in limped a pony I thought was gone.

        “What’re y’all doin’?” He said, wincing. “I told y’all they didn’t have a thang t’do with me!”

Something was off about him. He looked like he was in pain, and it wasn’t until I gazed down his flanks until I noticed what was wrong. Instead of a cutie mark, what looked to be a burn was in it’s place. It wasn’t a burn, it was a brand! The dashite brand! It was modeled after Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark, and used to identify traitors. Calamity wasn’t a traitor, was he?

“Enjoying your new cutie mark, Calamity?” Borealis snickered.

“It’s better than being a selfish asshole like y’all!” Calamity spat.

“Normally, I would call the guards on you, but you were my favorite pupil. This is not protocol, but I will strike a deal. You leave, now. Take whatever’s yours, and get out. And I will give your... your, conspirators a two hour head start after they’re exiled.” He explained.

One word stopped my heart. Exile. After all of the trouble, all of the shit I’ve gone through, for nothing. I was born in the wastes, and I can get around, but what about my other friends? Gunpowder would take a filly’s head off if it meant survival, and Tesla wouldn’t be petrified, but Ballista and Spare Part worried me. I didn’t know if they could adapt to it.

“Your two hours start now. Go, and if my men catch you, you’ll be dead.” He finished coldly.

We sat for a few minutes, before I realized we’re seriously reducing our life expectancy.

“LET’S GO!” I yelled, which roused my friends.

We sprinted down the halls, navigating through scientist and janitor alike. We had to get out, we had to. We stopped at the entrance, panting.

“Go to your barracks. Grab everything that’s yours. Once you’re done, go to the engineer’s lab and grab a weapon and lots of ammo. Hurry!”

Spare Part, Ballista, and Gunpowder ran to the Mare’s barracks, while Tesla and I cheesed it to the Stallion’s. Barreling through the door, we made our way to our respective lockers, knocking down unwary passerbys along the way. Shucking my uniform, I paused a second as I looked at my jacket. It was the last thing I had from the Wastes. Easing into the leather, I could feel the worn seams and memories hugging my body. It felt nice.

“Nice jacket.” Tesla said as he passed by me.

I quickly caught up with him, and soon passed him. Deciding that the elevator wasn’t the quickest choice, I took to the air, phasing through the cloud wall. They weren’t that sturdy, surprisingly. As I landed, I heard Tesla do the same, and we galloped into the lab. We entered, and saw a trio of mares frantically running around. Glad that they had made good time, I trotted to my desk and began sifting through cabinets and drawers.

“Jury.” A voice spoke, scaring the everloving shit out of me. “Up here.”

I looked up, and saw a familiar rust colored face peering down.

“Calami-” I began, but was cut off.

“Go to the farms to the north. Reach the southwest corner, go straight down. Go to the cave. I won’t be there, but it’ll help you along.” He spoke, his voice gravelly and weak. In a deft motion, he flew out of the room. Letting his message sink in, I resumed my lootage. I ignored energy weapon ammo. I prefered ballistic anyways.

I need a Luna damned sniper, I thought.

Piling 308. rounds into a vest I took from the bottom shelf of my desk, I thought of what else to bring. Subconsciously, I began to take 44. Magnum rounds. I don’t know why. Magnums were rare in the wastes. Trotting over to the medical box, I smiled at the Ministry of Peace’s butterfly logo. Fluttershy’s ministry. Healing potions, bandages, a syringe of hydra, and a bottle of pills.

Pills here! Better grab everything I can! My inner conscience squealed in delight.

        “Are we good?” I asked, my voice cracking.

        A series of nods and worried looks responded, and I nodded slowly.

        “Y- You know what t- to do, r- right? T-to keep us s-safe?” A soft voice spoke.

        Recognizing this as Ballista, I pulled into a hug and cooed, “It’ll be fine, hon.”

        I pulled away, and composed myself. They knew I was a wastelander, and I’d be their guide. I hated being the center of attention. I looked at my ragtag band of exiles, and smiled.

        “Fillies and gentlecolts. This sucks. I know it. But we’re not gonna die because of it. I know what to do and where to go. Follow me.” I spoke, trying to act determined.

        I flew out through the cloud wall, clearing a hole for the others. I checked the sun for a time estimate. As far as I could tell, we had maybe a half hour left before and all-points bulletin was put out. Reaching the southwest corner like Calamity said, I explained the plan. Not having another idea, they agreed. I dug at the cloud ground, and received a nasty shock. I hit a rock! Raising an eyebrow, I dug around the rock. It got lower and lower until a hole formed. I slithered through, my small frame allowing me to fit. It was dark.

        “Come on down!” I yelled up.

        After everypony climbed down, I replaced what we dug to eliminate the trail.

        “Is it always dark down here?” Spare Part piped up.

        “I think we’re in a cave! I LOVE caves! Did you know the used EXPLOSIVES to dig some caves?! I mean tha-!” Gunpowder squealed.

        “We get it.” Tesla said.

        “We’re in a cave. Follow me.” I observed, feeling cool stone beneath my hoof.

        Cracking a light stick, we walked. It had to have been half an hour at least. The cave wouldn’t let up. Nopony spoke, we were all too tired. Even Gunpowder, the perky and possibly schizopathic mare didn’t speak. We were about to stop and give up, when we rounded a corner.

There it was. The outside. It was nighttime, and all of sighed with relief at the sight.

We didn’t dare approach the exit, for fear of vertibucks spotting us. As we settled down, me in my own little corner, Gunpowder and Spare Part curled against each other, their lovers comfort lulling them into slumber. Ballista leaned against a stalagmite next to Tesla, gazing towards the outside world. I was about to nod off, when a soft white light was revealed by a small outcropping. Awkwardly standing up, I trotted over. It wasn’t just a weird rock, it was a knapsack! I dragged over to my corner, and Tesla, noticing my effort, trotted over to investigate.

“So this is what Calamity told to look for.” I whispered.

“Hmm... So that’s why he was hanging on an air vent.” Tesla chuckled.

Opening up the sack, I pulled out the source of light. Holding it up to the glow stick, I saw that it was a Pipbuck! My father had one, a Pipbuck Alpha to be precise. This was a delta series. Slightly bulkier, but had at least 20% cooler gadgets.

“Niiiiice find.” Tesla whispered.

Remaining silent, I wrapped the computer watch around my right hoof. Not long after, my body started burning. I flopped over and began to writhe. I felt like a swamp adder was slithering through my veins, biting every artery and nerve.

“Oh fuck! Augh!” I moaned through gritted teeth.

The pain stopped, and I opened my eyes. In the bottom left corner of my eye, I noticed a white bar, labeled HP. Under that was what looked like a horizontal compass, with hollow mini-arrows dotting it. In the bottom right side, a bar label AP was floating there. I had no clue what that meant.

“You ok?” Tesla asked, standing over me.

Realizing the position we were in, I blushed profusely and rolled over.

“Yeah, I think it’s neural-sensors were linking to me.” I said, rubbing my aching head.

“Sounds kinky.” Tesla replied.

Blushing even more, I began to scroll through options. To left of the screen, there was a wheel that I assumed was used for scrolling. Under that, was a dial of sorts, which puzzled me. I dismissed it, and continued messing around with the Pipbuck. In the top left corner, a geiger counter was set at zero rads per second. Good.

The screen burst to life from it’s dim white glow, and I was greeted with a smorgasbord of options. On the bottom screen, a light under the word “Stats” lit up. In the top of the actual screen, I could see HP and AP again, with HP being at 150 out of 150, and AP being at 120 out of 120. It occurred to me that HP meant health points, but AP still confounded me.

In the center of the screen, a pony with a weird looking mane was standing, each limb highlighted with a solid bar near them. To the left were three tabs: CND, RAD, EFF. I think CND stood for condition, and RAD for radiation. EFF could possibly be effect. On the bottom of the screen, there were five other tabs: Status (which I was on now), S.P.E.C.I.A.L., Skills, Perks, and General.

Intrigued, I tapped the screen with my muzzle, and switched to special. The screen changed, and I was left with this:

Strength - 3

Perception - 7

Endurance - 3

Charisma - 10

Intelligence - 10

Agility - 7

Luck - 1

I was the unluckiest son-of-a-bitch in the wastes. Figures. All around, I was happy with what the Pipbuck gauged me. I was smart and persuasive, and was quick and observant. Too bad I can’t swing a bat or get shot too much. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. Next, I scrolled over to Skills. I soon saw a variety of words like these:

Barter - 60

Energy Weapons - 20

Explosives - 15

Guns - 80 +

Lockpick - 55

Medicine - 30 +

Melee Weapons - 10

Repair - 90 +

Science - 90 +

Sneak - 50

Speech - 85

Survival - 30

Unarmed - 5

As I scrolled over each option, a short description and a picture of the weird pony doing each thing popped up. I was actually enjoying this, seeing how good I am at stuff. I had to wonder though; How did Stable-Tec figure this shit out? Linking it to your nervous system is just crazy. Shrugging it off, I flipped to the next tab, Perks. Another list, but smaller, appeared.

College Education - Your superb education has given you an advantage! +5  to Science, Repair, and Medicine!

Expert Marksman - Your keen eye and steady hoof makes you a top-notch shot! +20 Guns when using a sniper rifle or scoped weapon.

Black Widow - Your deceiving looks can fool most stallions! 10% Damage increase against the same gender!

Sniper - Your shots have become more disciplined! 25% more likely to get headshots in SATS!

Jury Rigging - Your skill and passion for reparations have made you efficient! Repair any item with a roughly similar item!

I giggled at Jury Rigging. It’s not often your name becomes a perk. Or is it the other way around? I don’t know. I flipped to General, and found a comprehensive chart of my social status. My reputation and moral level (I didn’t think it was possible to measure that). The only faction on there was the Enclave, which I was “Hated” by. Yay.

Satisfied with the “Stats” portion of the Pipbuck, I clicked over to items. On the top of the screen, I saw HP again, but no AP. Instead, WG, DR, and Caps took its place. I knew caps were currency, but I had zero. WG I assumed was weight. I was carrying 2/150 pounds. Looking down, the Pipbuck was set on “Weapons.” I had none, so the screen was blank. Scrolling over to “Apparel”, I saw that my jacket was labeled as, “Cloak of the Ranger.” I always thought of it has a gift from Scoutwing.

A small flash, and the “Cloak of the Ranger” disappeared, and was replaced by “Scoutwing’s Duster.” I smirked. That sounded cooler. On the right of the screen, the Stable Buck was wearing a duster, and under him were boxes labeled DT, WG, and VAL. DT was at 5, which probably had to do with it’s protection. WG was weight, and it was set at 2. VAL was 50, but I knew it had more value than that.

Under that was a solid bar with CND next to it. It was in full condition, which I relieved my worries of having to fix it. Done with Apparel, I switched to Aid. Buck, hydra, bandages, and healing potions were there. That was simple. I flicked to misc, which was empty. Ammo was kind of pointless. I knew what it would say.

The last main tab was Data. The first tab was World Map. Easy enough. As I looked at the map, a blinking arrow was located at a place called, “Loft Cave.” I assumed it was me. I looked at the top of the screen, and it said “The Badlands.” I knew this place. It was a thin triangle surrounded by Trottingham, The Hoof, and the Big 52. This was where I was born. Memories flooded my mind, bringing me to the brink of tears. I shut them out. To the left of World Map was the Local Map. Kinda useless to me. To the right of World Map was Quests. Curious, I flicked over to it, finding it to be empty.

Shouldn’t, “Escape from Enclave Dickheads” be a quest? I thought.

Not a second later, the page updated, and the words Escape from Enclave Dickheads appeared.

I couldn’t stop myself from cackling. Shaking my head, I looked at the objectives, which was the same thing as the quest name. The last two tabs were Notes and Radio. I’d look at Radio later. It was self-explanatory, anyways. I flicked over to Notes and was met with a punch to the face.

        On the small screen was a audio file titled, “Jury.” Was this from Calamity? It had to be, unless somepony else was expecting me. Hesitantly, I tapped play with my nose.

        “Dear Jury Rig,

“If’n y’all are listinen’ t’ this, that means y’all escaped. Good. I was thinkin’ y’might’ve got caught. Listen, I knew this was happenin’ since I got back from th’ surface. I am entrusting you t’ the contents of this here knapsack. Distribute it amongst yerselves. You know the wastes, Jury. Keep yer head clear, and y’all will be jest fine. I reckon I’ll travel far from Neighvarro. Don’t try’n find me. It’ll look like we’re tryin’ to incite a rebellion.”

“Ah have a feelin’ you’ll survive. Take care of the rest of the Corps. But, please in the name of Luna, don’t y’all become one of them raider clans. ‘S bad enough here already. Ah c’n hear the Vertibucks flyin’ o’er head. I know this might be rough for y’all, but you’re tougher than ya look. You ain’t that sorry colt Ah saw the first day of basic. Be a leader, Jury.”

“Ah knew ya’d be the one to lead our team outta the clouds, so... so... Yea. Just, don’t die. That’s all Ah ask of ya. Goodbye, and good luck...”

The recording fizzled out. I looked up and saw my entire team staring at me. I froze. They all expected me to lead them? I may know my way around the wastes, but I am a far cry from a leader. I opened my mouth, but clamped it before I said anything. Instead, I dumped out the remaining contents on the ground.

        A multitude of ammo, weapons, medical supplies, food, and armor was just presented on a silver platter. The last thing to be emptied was a slip of paper, gently floating down on top of a  black box. I picked it up and read.

Jury Rig,

This weapon is yours. I know how you like snipers, and I found this in an old safe on the surface. I engraved it in Ancient Pegasus, which I know you can read. I named it Judge. I expect to hear of you on the radio. Do great things, as cliché as it sounds.

- Deadshot Calamity

Opening up the black box, I removed a delicate piece of foam covering the weapon inside. I turned on my Pipbuck light and shone it upon the rifle. It was gorgeous. I took a breath. It was an Ironpony SS-41. A sleek black body, it was made of wood and steel. It was an old weapon from the war, from the time before composite materials were used.

The rifling and metalworks were beautiful as well. A matte black finish covered it, and a very fancy scope adorned the top. I peered down the sight. It was alien compared to the rest of the rifle, with a highlighted crosshair and options for zoom levels, thermal sight, and night vision, but it was pretty nonetheless. I fished around for a 308. round and fit into the chamber. It fit perfectly. When I closed the bolt, a silver glint caught me. In the action itself, an engraving of some kind was beautifully cut. I held it to the light and read it. It was in Ancient Pegasus.

Mandrie si Onoare

        Pride and Honor. I smiled. Of course Calamity would write that. It was his favorite quote. I set the rifle down with care, and examined the other items. A compact battle-saddle with two Novasurge rifles attached was given to Tesla. Calamity’s own invention. A set of body armor for everypony. An G44 Grenade Rifle was being molested by Gunpowder, as she giggled maniacally. I had a niggling feeling that’d she blow us up one day. Spare Part was looking at a 10mm submachine gun with a fancy silencer on it. Ballista was investigating the remaining pile.

        I watched as she picked a small revolver and hoofed it gingerly. She pulled out a 20g shotgun slug, and placed it in the cylinder. It looked familiar. Then it hit me. I made that. She noticed me looking at it, and spoke.

        “Wasn’t this the first gun you made?” She asked, her soft voice echoing.

        “Yea. Yea it was.” I said

        She began to slide it to me, but I stopped her.

        “No. You need it more than I do. May it serve you well.” I said, smiling.

        She nodded and messed with it some more. Tesla smiled at her.

        The pile was almost picked clean. All that was left was medical supplies, which we agreed would go with Spare Part. As I piled bottles of pills and stimpaks into a saddlebag, my hoof touched something that wasn’t quite a stimpak. It was a revolver. A 44. Magnum actually.

Maybe taking those bullets back at camp wasn’t such a bad plan, after all. I chuckled.

        The revolver had a black ivory mouth grip, a cool scope, and a shiny silver barrel. I felt like a cowpony. Giggling at the thought of myself in assless chaps, I put it in my saddlebag. The Pipbuck labeled it as “Scoped 44. Magnum.” With my supplies in check, the last item missing was the new sniper. It had a leather strap, which was convenient. I slung it over my back, and the Pipbuck started to label it, but froze.

        I frowned and tapped the screen. It blinked and the word “Judicis” popped up over the magnum. That was an ancient unicorn word. Remembering Calamity’s note, I connected Judge to Judicis. At least it was unique. Maybe it had an enchantment on it or something. Unicorns could do that. I looked up. Everypony had armor, a gun, and supplies. We were ready to go. But we won’t go. Not yet at least. No, we were all too tired.

Ballista fell asleep on Tesla’s shoulder, and Tesla, in a more gentle motion that I thought possible, carried her over to a sleeping bag from the knapsack and layed down next to her. Spare Part and Gunpowder fell asleep together as well. I chuckled. Things were changing, but we weren’t. Because in a Yao Guai eats Yao Guai world likes this, we couldn’t afford to. In a world where everything changes, friendship stayed strong. Friendship, friendship never changes.

Perk Gained: Betrayed - Being suddenly exiled has hardened your emotional shell! +2 to Damage Threshold!

(A/N: So that’s the first chapter in my first evar fanfic. I dedicate this to my buddy Matt, who hates everything. Thanks to kkat for creating this wonderful universe to write about, and Somber for writing Project Horizons, which inspired me to get off my lazy haunches. That’s all folks!)