Fallout Equestria: Inertia

by Keatosimo

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Alternate Universe, Dark
Length: 27847

An engineer is ousted from his home in the Enclave. He knows the wastes, but when he returns to his old home to find his family gone, will he be able to cope with the harshness of a hellhound eat hellhound world?

Jury Rig is an engineer in the Enclave. When one his squad mates leaves for the surface, he and his friends pay the same price. He knows the wastes well, and his friends adapt quickly, but when he finds that his family is scattered from their old home in a region called the Badlands, he has to go on a journey to pick up the pieces of a past he left behind.

(A/N) This is my first fanfic, so… yeah. Just an FYI, the characters canon to the original Fallout Equestria will have an extremely limited role (except for Red Eye). Also, the first chapter is terrible, I know. Please try to get past it, hehe.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-09 01:13:30 UTC

Prologue

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!)

Thermite and other High Explosives

Fallout Equestria

Inertia

Thermite and Other High-Explosives

“All the ponies in this town are CRAZY!”

I looked up at the ponies sitting at the table. Mom made peas and squash for dinner tonight, Soot’s favorite. It was his birthday after all.

“So how’s the dinner, birthday colt?” My father asked, a warmness in his voice.

“‘S yummy, daddy! I wuv peas n’ sqwas!” A salt and pepper foal babbled.

He turned four today. What's more is he still had his innocence. An innocence that, by default, would have to be stripped from him at one point. But that time was far from now, and now was a time to celebrate. Dinner passed quickly, and it was time for presents. A gift wasn’t usually more than an old Sparkle-Cola truck, but we didn’t mind.

“And here’s your present, sweetie!” My mother coddled the small foal in her lap, bringing around a small wrapped box to him.

The small foal greedily tore it open, like a Steel Ranger would a Stable. Inside was, as expected, a Sparkle-Cola truck. A Sparkle-Cola RAD truck, actually. Instead of the normal coloring, it had a dark red tint to it, similar to that of the radish it was named for. Presents were usually found while scavenging. My brother and I had learned that long ago. The only time this wasn’t the case was when a caravan passed through.

That was always a treat. It was fun to see other ponies, besides the family. We all got tired of each other sooner or later. My father trotted in with a small package in his hoof. It was a sweet roll. The cellophane crinkled and glimmered in the light. Enjoy the little things.

He ripped the packaging off, and placed the sweet roll at my little brothers hooves. The tiny colt flopped from the cradle of his mother and waddled towards the pastry. He eyed it with confusion, and slowly picked it up. After a single tentative lick, the entire pastry was obliterated from existence. The small colt looked up, a sugary glaze enveloping his muzzle. One couldn’t help but smile at it.

“Moaw?” The little foal asked, desperation in his little eyes.

“Sorry, son. I’ll try to get one soon.” My father said, chuckling.

The small foal took this as an acceptable explanation, and toddled over to my mother. We sat in silence for awhile, allowing ourselves to be comforted by the presence of one another. Homage sat in a chair, a blanket curled around her gray coat. May Lily lay down at the base of the chair, and Scoutwing sat next to her. I was leaned up against my small brother and mother. My father sat on his chair, skimming over an old magazine.

In an instant, the silence was broken with a loud crash. The veil of serenity shattered by an explosive, temporarily blinding us. Soot began to wail. As soon as we shook ourselves off, my father, Scout, and I shot up and grabbed our weapons, which we had set down for the birthday party.

We rounded the corner, and the reaper stood in the doorway. It took a step forward, and something strange began to happen. The reaper crackled and fidgeted like an old display, transforming from an angel of death to a pony in black carapace armor. An enclave soldier.

It began to talk, beginning in a deep voice, suspiciously similar to Commander Borealis’s.

“It has come to our attention that you have two able bodied pegasi. Hand them over, and we will not destroy this place.”

Halfway through the sentence, it’s voice turned into a mare’s, resembling Monsoon’s voice. Everything melted away. The cozy house I was in gave way to a cloud prison. Ponies shuffled in monotony, each one being branded with a number.

“523, 524, 525.” A stallions voice sounded after each brand.

I frantically searched around. I spotted a door, guarded by identical ponies. I barreled past them, entering a familiar hallway.

“526, 527, 528.”

I kept galloping. Rounding a corner, I reached an open door. It was my old workstation. Parts and bullets littered the floor, and a pony devoid of all color was working on something. I approached the pony.

“E- Excuse me. Where the buck am I?” I asked, panting.

The neck of the pony turned, leaving me face to face with myself. My eyes were pits. An endless swirl of bleakness and despair. If I stared too long, I would’ve fell into them. I looked around. The walls changed from white clouds into the storm clouds of nightmares. A silhouette of a pony phased through the wall, and it turned an evil grin.

“Welcome, Jury.” The voice of Borealis spoke.

There was no face to put the voice to.

“I told you once, whelp. If I found you, you. Would. Die.” He spat, malice and hate in his voice.

He raised a gun to my head. He pulled the trigger.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 I shot up in my bed. Sweat beaded my forehead and back, gluing my jacket to my back. I lifted my forearm and looked at my Pipbuck. It was 3:12 in the morning. I scanned the room. I noticed that Spare and Gunpowder pushed their beds together, and put their gear on the other beds. I hopped out of bed, making sure to be light on my hooves. I stretched, feeling my bones crack and my muscles releasing a day's stress. Shucking my jacket, I started for the kitchen.

   I took a step, hoping that the floor wouldn’t groan. Thank Luna it didn’t. Gunpowder once told me what happens when one wakes Spare Part up early. I shuffled to the kitchen, wiping the last bit of sleep from my eyes. The lights were off, and turning them on might wake up the others. I decided to find the light button on my Pipbuck. I eventually found and activated it.

My eyes were completely unprepared for the unbridled power of the tiny bulb. I covered my eyes, and eventually got used to the light. I couldn’t do much without making noise, so I decided to go outside. I opened the door and stepped into the night air.

It was cool. Not frigid, but bracing to say the least. I inhaled deeply, letting the cool air warm in my lungs before releasing. The light from my Pipbuck was far less intense outside than it was in the kitchen, but it still illuminated the dusty ground. I scanned the horizons, hoping for a glint of sunrise. I knew it was far too early, but still.

Today was going to be a long day. I hope that we can make good time, but Ballista’s leg will probably slow us down. Although we will have the added benefit of the Eyes-Forward Sparkle on my Pipbuck. Skirting around enemies is better than gunning them down, I suppose.

The mustiness of sweat still clung to the back of my neck, the product of nightmares. I sat on my haunches, and skirted over to a smooth boulder. I wriggled into a comfortable position and closed my eyes. Maybe the cloud cover would help me drift off. Sighing, I let myself slip into REM.

I opened my eyes and groaned. What was blocking the light? I rubbed my eyes, and found a certain gray mare standing over me. I yelped and jumped back. A boulder to the back of my head stopped me mid-cringe.

“Gah, Gunpowder? What the hell?” I asked, rubbing my throbbing skull.

“Well you were sleeping outside, silly!” She chirped.

“Just. Just don’t do that please?” I asked, hoping to Luna she said ok.

“Okidoke! No more watching Jury.” She piped.

I let out a sigh of relief, and flopped onto my belly. I stood up on my legs, and began to stretch. A wave of cracks ran up and down my body, signaling that my body was limbered up. I trotted inside the old shack. I reached my bed and began gathering my belongings. Barding, check. Saddlebags, check. Jacket, check.

Satisfied, I exited the room and the house. It had warmed up since the morning, bringing a feeling of neither hot or cold. I wished the Pipbuck had a thermometer. My companions stood in a half circle, idly chatting. I walked up to the group.

“Alright. There’s a settlement about nine miles from here. If we can get a decent pace, it should only take us a few hours. Once there, well, I’ll figure it out.” I explained.

I hesitated with telling them my real plan. A nagging feeling kept telling me they wouldn’t agree with it, so I stowed it away until the time arrived.

“Well, let’s not waste daylight. Let’s get goin’.” Tesla said, which set us off.

And another day of walking commenced. And kept going. And going. And going. I never thought that canyons were dull but after awhile it starts to get stale. I lifted my Pipbuck up to my face. I had already checked everything, and I knew where we were on the map. There was a marker that I got from the tour guide map that was labeled “Two Note Strip.”

Before the war, it was a stripmall smack in the middle of nowhere. After the spells hit, it became one of the few non-irradiated locations in the world. Caravans would pass through the Badlands to get to it, as Two Note’s traders had some rare items. Being in the middle of nowhere left some pretty good looting.

My eyebrows raised a bit when I spotted the Radio tab. I had forgot that existed. I switched tabs until Radio was highlighted. On the screen before me lay two signals: Ranger Distress Signal, and DJ Pon-3. I flicked on the distress signal. Nothing but static buzzed from the speakers, and I frowned. I flicked the switch over to DJ-Pon3. I was caught off guard when a deep and extremely entrancing voice blared from the speakers.

“Goooooood morning, wastelanders! Prepare to be bedazzled, astounded, and otherwise stupefied; I’m DJ-Pon3, your friendly neighborhood disc jockey. Time for the news!”

“The settlement of Bluegrass has reportedly been attacked by slavers! However, due to happenstance, a group of displaced ghouls passed by, and aided the small village in fighting off the slavers! Ain’t that a thing how we can do most anything if we band together and fight the good fight? And what’s more, is that the grateful Bluegrassians allowed the ghoulies to settle there! Two problems fixed with one coincidence. Sometimes Lady Luck does smile on us!”

“And now for a public service announcement: Remember, kiddies, always perform routine maintenance on your weapons. If your gun’s broken, the only wasteland asshole it’s gonna kill is you. So be smart. Salvage those parts. That’s it for now, kiddies. And here’s Sapphire Shores, talkin’ about sunshine.”

A soft melody began to radiate from the speakers, filling the silent air with a lovely tune.

“Well, that’s nice.” Spare Part piped. “It’s kinda pleasant to have a radio going, as well as current events.”

I nodded, and let the music play. I absolutely adored music. I had an old record player in Thunderhead, but they confiscated it on the way to Neighvarro. Although I didn’t have any records of Sapphire Shores, I did have a few Neighvana and Rampones albums. This wasn’t nearly as grungy as that. But music was music, and it eased the boredom.

Although the music helped alleviate the dreariness of continuous walking, it quickly became white noise as our brains slowly adjusted to the monotony of marching. It wasn’t until the canyons cleared and a flat valley lay before us did we perk up once more, knowing that our destination was drawing near.

“How far left?” Gunpowder asked.

“About fifteen minutes.” I replied.

She smiled and began to hum Sapphire Shores. The town of Two Note was an above average settlement. It lacked the draw of Dise, or the safety in isolation of Friendship City, but it had walls and guards. That put ponies at ease, which drew some pilgrims in. Caravans would stop on the way through to more populated settlements, which allowed the citizens to trade for supplies.

I had never actually been in the city before, but I had to find a safe place for my friends, and this was as safe as it got around here. They had skills, so finding work wouldn’t be too hard. They might actually help advance the place, due to a common knack for practical problem solving. Once they were settled, I’d go out and find my family.

The fifteen minutes seemed to go by fast, and the concrete walls of Two Note were in sight, a tall gray line contrasted the light brown aridity of the landscape. Our pace increased, and soon the metal gate was visible, along with the two ponies guarding it. I stopped the group.

“So it’s time I told you my plan.” I said, getting it off my chest. “The plan is as follows; All of you will settle here. I have caps for you to get started, and I trust in your ability to find work. I’m leaving to find my family, and I’d rather not put you at risk. Besides, you’d be a great addition to their community.”

Tesla Bolt was the first to butt in.

“Hell no. We’re in this together.” He exclaimed, stomping his hoof. “You can’t go alone.”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, but it’s what’s gonna happen. I’ll stick around for a bit; help you settle down. Then I’m gone.” I replied grimly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it soon after. I knew he knew I was right. The others hadn’t said anything, which meant they either agreed or are still ruminating over it. We approached the gate, and the two ponies standing watch stepped forward.

“Hold up, friends.” A dead grass-ish colored stallion asked, eyebrow raised.

“What’s yer business?” A mare with the same color pattern as the stallion asked.

Spare Part and I exchanged looks, before I stepped forward.

“Looking for work and shelter. No harm meant.” I replied, puffing out my chest in bravado.

The mare spoke up.

“Aight, Wheat, Search ‘em.” The mare said, causing eyes to open wide.

Wheat and the unnamed mare approached us, rifling through saddlebags and prodding us. Ballista maintained a sheepish grin, and I did my best to keep from wavering. Tesla seemed cool as ever, and Spare Part was getting antsy. Gunpowder seemed to be enjoying it, completely oblivious to the molestation of her belongings.

“Ok, Barley, they seem ok.” The stallion spoke, and a name was given to the mare. “You can head inside, but don’t be causin’ any trouble, ya hear? An if’n y’all hear a trouble, don’t come cryin’ to us. We guard the gates. Settle yer own disputes.”

I nodded and faced the gate. The rusted metal groaned as two hidden ponies operated a set of winches. The gate resisted it’s masters, but it gave in after a yank. I entered Two Note, wide-eyed companions in tow. Two Note was by no means a bustling hub. In actuality it was kind of small, with towns like Flank and Friendship city dwarfing it.

However, it was spacious, with a large lot surrounded on three sides by a continuous building that housed a plethora of stores and residences. In a small grassy section in the middle of the area, a group of stalls sold goods such as food and ammunition. On the opposite to where the gate was, a large department store held the main market.

Looking around, I acknowledged the fact that this was a great place to settle. Easy to defend, and spacious. No wonder the caravaneers would call a diamond in the rough. My companions looked around in awe. They’d been used to clouds, and solid concrete was a whole new game.

We slowly drifted apart, curiosity driving us to explore. I wasn’t here to explore. Although I really wanted to. I trotted over to the cul de sac of merchant’s stalls. On some signs, crude paintings of bullets and knives signified a weapons vendor, if the customer couldn’t tell by the heat the owner and her guards were packing.

I decided to walk over to what looked like an apparel stand. Racks of barding and, to my surprise, power armor were strewn about the small stand.

“Um, excuse me?” I asked with a sheepish grin, as a unicorn stallion popped up from under one of the bundles of barding.

“Can I help you?” He asked, rolling his eyes.

“Is there somepony I can talk to about finding a job and some housing?” I spoke.

“Why are you asking me this?” He spoke with a scowl.

“Well, yo-” I started but was cut off.

“Talk to Double Action in the building to the left of the department store.” He interjected. “And don’t bother me.”

I huffed and turned away. The nerve of some ponies. I looked for this building the stallion spoke of, and there it was, what used to be a soup kitchen before the war now transformed into an impromptu jail and sheriff’s office. I approached the door, which was guarded by a mare shrouded in a cloak. I was smart enough to know she had more than a knife under that cloak.

“What’s your business with Double Action?”  A raspy voice spoke; a ghoul’s voice.

“Need to inquire about a job.” I replied, maintaining my composure.

She nodded me in, and in I went. Inside the office it was actually pretty nice. It was well furnished, and whoever chose the paint chose well. In the back of the room, a pony had it’s legs propped up against the counter that I assumed soup was given out on, and a desperado hat upon it’s head. The pony looked up and spoke.

“What can I do for ya?” She spoke, a smirk on her face.

“Well, ya see, my friends and I recently got into a bit of trouble with the Enclave, and yea, they’re lookin’ for work.” I answered.

“And a place to stay.” I added.

The green mare’s eyebrows bunched, and she blew a tuft of black mane out of her eyes.

Maybe she’d like a bobby pin, I thought, smirking.

She sat there, mumbling under her breath, and even though a pony’s hearing is good, sometimes it didn’t take the cake. I checked the time at least twice, and given in to the desire to take a seat on a stool in front of the counter. She look up, and nodded.

“Okay. Lemme get this straight. You folks got into a scuffle with the Enclave goons, and have been ‘relocated’?” She asked. I nodded.

“Since I saw you come in, and each one of ya’s is a pegasus. That means you were all Enclave at some point or another. Normally, I’d say no to your request. But-” She paused as she sat up, revealing a set of dull green wings.

 “You have my sympathy. I know you Enclave ponies are generally pretty intelligent. That means you could be of assistance. Not to mention my grandfather, Radar, had the same thing happen to him.”

My eyes widened at the mention of that name. I had heard Borealis talking about it with Calamity at one point or another.

“Tell ya what. We’ve been having a problem with a raider boss by the name of Grease Trap. Nasty bastard. Attacks caravans headin’ our way, and we can’t have that, now can we?” She spoke. “You and your buds take ‘em out, and they get a place to stay. Their skills alone’ll score them a job around here.”

I nodded.

“I see you have a computer-watch. I’ll update it with the coordinates, and send you on your way. You might wanna stop by Thermite’s and Alphonse’s shop before you go.” She finished.

She clicked a few buttons on my Pipbuck, received a loud beep, and sat back down. I smiled and turned around, walking towards the door.

“Hey!” She exclaimed.

I turned, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Good luck.” She finished, as she readjusted her hat for napping.

        I exited the building, with a strange feeling welling in my chest. It was familiar, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. Ah yes. Happiness. A smile crept up on me as I trotted along, searching for a set of curious pegasi. As I trotted around the complex, I peeked into an alley that might’ve drawn one of my friends in. I was greeted with a buck and a mare engaging in... activities, and I immediately ducked away.

Nope nope nope nope nope, I thought as I tried to flush the images from my brain. Look for friends. Friends.

After purging my now damaged brain, I resumed my search. After a half-lap around the lot, I spotted Ballista and Tesla browsing the stock of one of the stalls. I trotted up, wondering what poor weapon they were violating. Tesla had in his hooves a laser rifle. Sort of. It was incredibly dirty, and many parts looked to be totally lost causes.

        “This is garbage! Selling this to somepony is ensuring their own death!” Tesla exclaimed.

        “Nonsense! Thermite sells only the best weapons!” The mare replied smugly, and the gryphon leaning against the stall grunted in agreement.

        “See? Even Alphonse knows that Thermite sells only the best!” She added, an arrogant grin on her face.

        I trotted over, and took the weapon from Tesla’s hooves. It really was in bad shape. The crystals that focus the magical energy were cracked, and the actual firing mechanism was warped from heavy use.

        “He’s right. This is in bad shape. And eventually, somepony who knows a bit or two about weapons like this will see that, and then what? Your reputation is damaged more as the word spreads. Honest business makes for easy living.” I backed Tesla’s claim up.

        The gryphon shifted, but remained silent.

        Thermite just started at the weapon, and I think she was just contemplating it. Tesla looked at me, and then at Ballista over by another stall. We both left Thermite and Alphonse at their respective stalls and walked over to Ballista. In her hooves she cradled a submachine gun. It looked to be in decent condition.

        “Oh, Tesla! Jury! It’s good you found me here. I’d like to buy this weapon, and you have the money. I mean, if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to spend all our money.” She asked, in a quiet voice.

        Tesla looked at me for an answer. I bit my lip, thinking about it. I was going to leave them here, so what did it matter?

        “Alright, sure.” I said as I pulled out a bag of soda tops. They jangled like crazy. “How much?”

        “Eighty caps, good suh.” The buck behind the counter spoke, his name tag reading “Plink”.

        “Alright, Mr. Plink. Here you go.” I said as I set the required amount of caps (plus tip) on the counter.

He smiled and nodded, pushing the gun over the counter. It was 10 mm, and had an extended magazine. I didn’t think he knew it was modified, but I still reached into my bag and put a couple more caps on the counter and nodded. As we turned around, we were met face to face with a bubbly gray mare and her lover. They were dressed in some fancy new armor that looked pretty expensive. Instead of just torso protection, they had armor down to their knees and hooves.

“Um, guys? How much did that cost, and where did you get the money?” I asked, worried for my financial well being.

“Nothin’ at all! They had thrown some damaged armor out, and we just took it, cleaned it, and fixed it!” Gunpowder

chirped.

“How... resourceful?” I replied, laughing nervously. Who knows what sort of substances were on those.

The couple nodded, grins from ear to ear.

“So, Dear Leader. What’s the plan?” Spare Part asked.

“Well, we have to go kill some raiders.” I said, as a-matter-of-factly.

Ballista’s eyes widened, and slightly shifted off of her injured side. I took notice of this.

“Ballista, you stay here with Tesla. Can’t have you get hurt.” I reassured her, and she sighed with relief. “Spare and Gunpowder, you’re with me. Shouldn’t be too hard, since we’ll have the drop, but I don’t want to take any chances. Tesla, while you’re here, get to know the place. See what needs to be done.”

They nodded, and trotted off somewhere.

“Okay, we’re gonna get in, and get out. Minimize bullet impact upon flesh. The main goal is to kill them all, including their boss, Grease Trap. I know you guys are still new to this wasteland business, but it’s gotta be done. Are you guys ok with this?”

The other pair nodded.

“You guys need any ammo? The fight with the raiders yesterday left my revolver dry, and I didn’t take extra from Neighvarro.” I asked.

“Uh, I probably do. Plus we’ll get to check the market out.” Spare replied.

We turned to face the market and trotted up to it’s door. It’s main room was quite large, with the shelves moved around to line the walls. Goods lined the shelves, and ponies separated by crude wooden barriers tended to their stores. It looked to be organized by categories, with stores selling the same thing bunched together. A sign stood in the middle that read, “Rent-a-Shop: 50c per day.”

Looking at some of the lines, it seemed that some stores were doing much better than their neighbors. Gunpowder had zipped to one of the lines leading to a store called “Ammunation-State.” I chuckled at it, and joined her in the line. The line went pretty fast, probably because purchasing death projectiles wasn’t rocket science.

The buck- no, colt operating the stand was barking out orders to a couple of terrified looking mares to fetch ammo from a storage room. As we approached the counter, the two mares must have gone through that door at least five times.

“Name’s Philanthropy. I know it’s ironic. Now whaddya want?” He asked with an impatient and frankly rude tone.

“Ten millimeter, forty four magnum, three-oh-eight caliber, and forty millimeter grenades.” I said.

He belted a command at one of his workers, who scurried through the door and came out with a small crate. She plopped it on the counter and skedaddled back to her post.

“Two hundred caps.” He deadpanned.

I gulped. That was close to half of our money gone.

“One-eighty.” I retorted.

He raised his right brow and smirked.

“Bartering, eh? Two hundred.” He shot back.

“One hundred and eighty. This ammo might not be pristine.” I returned.

“One-ninety.” He offered.

“Deal.” I said, and handed him the caps.

“It’s been awhile since somepony put up a fight for a deal.” He said, “Come back soon.”

“I think I will.” I replied, shaking his hoof.

It wasn’t a steal, but the fact that the colt acknowledged it might prove useful. We left the market with magazines full and saddlebags weighted. Whilst I was bartering with Philanthropy, Gunpowder had gone on a shopping spree for potions, and managed to snag ten potions for fifty caps. Luna knows how.

Once the items purchased were distributed, we left the department store and out the gate. We had waited until leaving the boundaries of Two Note before taking flight, because unwanted attention was not high on my list of things to have. I never really realized how much more difficult take off was with gear.

Once I got up though, all I had to do was find a nice thermal to climb on. I pump my wings and gain loft. A warm spot of air comes under my wings, and I point them downward. Spare and Gunpowder followed suit. My indicator on my Pipbuck crept up towards the icon Double Action had set, and I motioned for a landing.

Our hooves clacked on the cracked ground as we hit the earth, our weapons whapping against our hides. Canyon walls were on two sides of us. None of us said a word. They knew we were close to Grease Trap’s hideout, and Luna bless them, chose to keep their mouths shut. According to my Pipbuck, we were right on it. As we crept up on the marker, a towering canyon wall began to loom over us.

Grease Trap had his back to the wall. Couldn’t tell if that was an advantage. We approached the wall and found nothing. Spare Part looked at me, and I could only shrug.

“They aren’t here.” I said, being captain obvious.

“I dunno. That little opening looks suspicious.” Gunpowder piped.

What? How did she notice that? Spare Part and I exchanged flabbergasted looks. Powder trotted over to a small nook in the corner of the canyon walls and disappeared. Spare and I followed, and were surprised to find a small cave.

Another cave?, I thought to myself.

I shimmied down through the narrow space. My small frame allowed for me to go gear and all. Spare, slightly more built, had to shuck her packs before coming down. Soon enough, we all stood in a small cave, pressed against each other. I wriggled my way into the front, and cracked my neck. Perking my ears, I tried to pick up any noise that might echo through the cave.

A faint crack resounded through the cave, and loudly. I looked to the left. Now that my night vision was getting better, I could see an opening. I got on my knees and pulled myself through the narrow hole. Two mares poked their heads out after, and the rest of their bodies soon appeared.

This space was much more open than the previous one, and we were able to stretch without poking one another. As I looked around, a dim light flickered on the wall. I put my shoulder to it, and followed. The light got brighter, and a campfire came into view. The cave opened up into a ravine with a roof. Daylight poured in from narrow cracks in the ceiling.

Ponies milled about, examining weapons, counting caps, and tending the fire. To my horror, groups of ponies were crammed into cages and set dangerously close to the fire. Raiders prodded the prisoners with the barrels of their rifles. There didn’t look to be much by way of cover, and that worried me. We were here to kill all of these ponies, and with no cover, it was suicide.

We could use explosives, and something told me Gunpowder had some in stock. But that put the prisoners at risk, who were now at priority number two. That was the only valid choice we had, though. I nudged Gunpowder in the shoulder and motioned to her pack. She pulled out a grenade, and I nodded. I poked my head out from hiding, and so did Gunpowder. Spare was preparing her submachine gun.

I pointed at three groups of raiders who were a safe distance from the cages. She nodded, and pulled out two more grenades. I slung Judicis from my shoulder, and then hesitated. Shaking my head, I pulled out my revolver instead. Judicis was too bulky to maneuver in this space. Spare had her gun ready, and Gunpowder had her explosives primed. I looked out at the battleground before me. I inhaled and nodded at Gunpowder. A few grenade pins clinked against the ground.

Follower Perk Acquired: It was under E! - Whenever Gunpowder is in your party, she increases your perception by 3!

Screwdrivers

Fallout Equestria

Inertia

Screwdrivers

“Twitchy twitchy twitcha twitch!”

        The sound of the first grenade exploding was deafening. Shrill cries of pain and alarm pierced the calm void of the ravine as dust and debris flew about. The second sound shot a piercing wail of metal colliding with flesh and rock, sending a sonic blast throughout the cavern, nulling the hearing of any living organism inside. The last grenade was further back and spared us it’s unholy wrath, but only just so.

        Spare came out from cover, firing bursts of bullets at raiders, who were only just recuperating. Several out of the many remaining ruffians were dead. The ponies in the cages cowered, trying to avoid gunfire. I popped out from behind my cover, aiming for the particularly vulnerable head. I picked one off and soon caught a raider reloading his gun, which shortly blew up thereafter. He fell to the ground as the gunpowder explosion seared his face. The entirety of the gun exploded into shrapnel, making each cut pour gut-wrenching amounts of blood onto the ground. The stallion writhed in agony, screaming until his vocal chords tore. He stopped moving, twitching occasionally.

        Gunpowder was strategically lobbing grenades, being careful to avoid the caged ponies. Raiders began to take cover behind makeshift barricades. As they began to return fire, I ducked back behind the cave entrance. We’ll need to advance or they’ll push us back. I popped out, firing off a few more shots. Bullets hit the cover I was behind, sending vibrations through the stone and rattling my body.

        “Gunpowder! You have any smoke grenades?” I yelled, trying to get my already soft voice above the cacophony above.

        “Yea! Hold on!” She replied as she dug through her bags.

She pulled out a cylindrical object in her hoofs, and tugged it’s pin with her mouth. Tossing it out of the cave, a loud pop was heard, and a thick gray smog covered the land. The raiders kept firing, hoping to land a lucky shot upon an unlucky pegasus. Wasn’t gonna happen, hopefully.

I motioned to Spare Part and Gunpowder to advance. I fired my revolver, now reloaded, into the fray. Looking out into the warzone, I saw two mares hastily slide behind an outcropping, huffing as they skidded to a halt. Spare looked at me and began to fire towards raiders. Taking the opportunity, I booked it from the cave exit. I had almost reached them when a searing pain ripped through my left haunch.

I yelped and tumbled into Spare Part.

“Buck me!” I cursed through my gritted teeth.

As I had stared down into my lower leg, I had cringed in frightful pain, sputtering curse words through my clenched teeth as everytime I wrenched in pain the blood-curtling, shrapnel filled wound would reopen, letting out seeps of blood. I had once again looked down as my first attempt had failed to see the wound. This time I had succeed in looking at a deep wound impounded into my skin. The bullet didn’t go through. As I was in pain, Spare returned fire. Raiders occasionally yelled commands at their lackeys.

I reached into a pocket for some ammo cringing my teeth in horrific pain, I pulled out six magnum rounds. I loaded them into their respective sockets and clicked the cylinder closed. Rolling over on my back, I was able to lean out of cover and take shots. The smoke had cleared, and sighting the bulky raiders became easy. One after another went down. Only a couple remained, shots becoming more infrequent.

I got back into cover and onto my hooves. My weak leg was severely hurting, and tears were forming in my eyes. I sharply inhaled and galloped further up the area, keeping low to avoid bullets. I stumbled into a slight depression behind a boulder. I couldn’t fight like this any longer. Flopping onto my back, I shucked my jacket and barding. Blood poured from the wound, and I winced at the sight. Taking my saddlebags, I rifled through them looking for something to pry this bullet out. A sick feeling pooled in my stomach as I pulled out a flat-head screwdriver.

A bottle of Buck tumbled out, and I stared at the bottle. Prying it open, I downed two tablets and picked the screwdriver up in my mouth. Curling myself up, I brought my leg up to my mouth. The wound was now in front of me, and I inhaled. Gunfire still rang out. I was seriously about to do this. I jammed the metal tool into my leg, and a jolt of intense pain racked my body, arching up my leg and suffusing throughout my body.

I plunged the cold steel further into my haunch, blood spewed from the wound, and my vision darkened around the edges. Cartilage and muscle split apart with each consecutive stab. Sounds became dulled and distant, and all I could feel was the screwdriver going deeper. It felt like a lifetime. Spare Part and Gunpowder stared, wide-eyed, but were interrupted by a volley of bullets.

Deeper.

I felt the metal stop at something solid, and another jolt of pain shot up my body. I moved the screwdriver with my tongue to see if was the bullet, and not a bone. An agonized grin crossed my face, as I dug the tool under the embedded projectile. My vision and hearing were darkening still, and I could not tell if the fighting had stopped.

With a shuddering inhale, I snapped my eyes closed and yank on the screwdriver, up and out. I let out a loud yell as I ripped the alien material from my body. I could feel each thread of muscle tearing and straining. Capillaries and veins screamed to my nervous system, sending pulses of horrible pain to my already delirious brain. The steel shredded more flesh, and with a disgusting shick, it burst from my body, and I spit the screwdriver from my mouth.

Breathing heavily, I glanced to my side. A small piece of bloodstained metal was on the ground. Laughing with relief and agony, I groped for my bags. I was still in terrible pain, and my vision still clouded. I pulled a bottle of a violet-purple liquid. I tried to open it with my teeth, but they ached, and I grunted in frustration. I smashed the top off on the ground, spilling a portion of the nectar. I chugged the bottle, the fragmented top slicing my lips.

I felt the potion begin to work, a warmth spreading from my mouth down to my legs. The now-numb pain from being shot was clearing, and I sighed with relief.  The darkness surrounded my peripheral vision was gone, and my hearing was now up to par. No shooting. My head began to spin as my brain fully processed what I had done. Skull thumped against rock as I slipped into unconsciousness.

        “Do you think... Concussion... Shot!”

        “I don’t... He’s alive... Hurt?”

        “He’ll be... Don’t move... Prisoners...”

        “It was... Hero... Two Note... Double...”

        “Grease... Dead... Finished the job... Let... Rest...”

        Ow. I ached everywhere. Voices were talking softly near me, though at that moment, I didn’t care. My eyes fluttered open, a piercing light stunning my already groggy senses. Crust limited how far eye could open my eyes, and this annoyed me. I rubbed the gunk from my eyes. Well, I wasn’t in Grease Trap’s place. Wait. Was he dead? Were the caged ponies okay?

        I shot up, or at least attempted to, but a sharp pain stopped me. Instead, I opted to slowly wiggle up, groaning along the way. I shook my head to jog my delayed senses. As my eyes slowly accustomed to my new position, I was greeted with two mares standing over me.

        “Holy shit, he’s awake.” Spare Part spoke in awe. “Dude, that was the most bucking brutal thing anypony has ever done.”

        Gunpowder only nodded.

        “You were prying out that bullet, which was already brutal in itself, but you got shot again and again.”  Spare continued.

        I looked down at my torso, and saw bandages wrapped around most of my body, save for a few sensitive areas.

        “We saw you drink that healing potion, and then get shot as it was healing you. One of the ponies in the cages is a doctor, luckily, and he cut you open, dug ‘em out, and patched you up.” Gunpowder put in.

        I shook my head and looked around. We were in a building, but what building?

        “Where the hay are we?” I asked.

        “Double Action’s office. It doubles as a clinic.” A stout unicorn said, as she stepped into the room.

        “My name is Numb Skull. No pun intended.” She added with a chuckle.

        I laughed along, paying no mind to the stinging that hit me every laugh. I laid back, and closed eyes for a second. I opened them a while later and checked my Pipbuck. It was 4:51 AM. Oh. I flipped over to my inventory, and almost yelled when I found everything was gone, caps included.

        “Where’s my stuff?” I asked, trying to hide my agitation.

        “Relax, bud, it’s in the corner. With some goodies, too. We made a bit of money and some good salvage.”

        I nodded, processing this.

        “Okay, then. It’s time for sleep.” I said with a yawn.

        There were no dreams.

        I awoke, rather suddenly, to the feeling of icy steel on my torso. I spazzed out, which startled a unicorn with a stethoscope. Oh, so that’s what it was. I rubbed the back off my head, laughing awkwardly.

        “Heh. Sorry.” I apologized.

        “It’s alright. Happens enough, I suppose.” Numb Skull replied, taking the instrument from her ears.

        “So, what’s the story? Nopony really explained what happened.” I asked.

        She looked up as if in thought, and tapped her chin with her hoof.

        “From you friends perspective, it was, ‘the most metal shit I have ever seen.’ But from her marefriend’s and a few released captives’ perspectives, you ran out into the open, pried a bullet from your leg, and got shot some more. Apparently, you took enough fire to draw aggro off of your pals, and they snuck around and blew them to Tartarus.” She recalled, and I nodded.

        “So Grease Trap is dead, I assume?”

        “Yes, it seems so. You also rescued a few of our townsfolk, including me!” She exclaimed, “Double Action was impressed. You’d also want to know that using a screwdriver to remove a bullet is incredibly imprudent of you. I suppose it doesn’t matter now, but you’re lucky that neither you or the bullet nicked a bone.”

        I chuckled, and sat up some more. Checking my Pipbuck for the time, I discovered it was 9:24 in the morning. I felt good. As if cued by a higher power, a loud and resounding grumble was released from my stomach.  I was really damn hungry. Numb Skull’s ears perked, and she began to laugh.

        “I’ll bring some food.” She said, but I stopped her.

        “Won’t be necessary. I think I can manage.” I said as I slowly climbed out of the bed I was in.

        Wincing as weight was put onto my injured limb, I regained my land legs.

        “Oh, and thank you.” I added.

        As I took each stride, the pain in my leg subsided, residue of a bloody grapple with villains. My limp turned back into a regular walk as I strode up a set of stairs. It occurred to me that I had been in one of the walk-in freezers. I walked through the kitchen, a once-living beacon of charity and goodness reduced to lifeless aluminium. I closed my eyes, inhaling.

        I could imagine ponies bustling around, devoting their time to those less fortunate than them. It made me smile. The kitchen was coming to an end, and a door stood between me and the real world. A part of me wanted to just stay in here. I couldn’t do that, though. The door creaked as I pushed it open.

        A dull green mare stood, leaning against a wall. Idly chatting with her was a ghoul, absent-mindedly fidgeting with her shotgun. She turned her head and cracked a grin.

        “Well, look who it is. Fresh from the clouds and already prying shrapnel from his body.” She greeted.

        “I never got a chance to thank you. We hadn’t a clue that there were prisoners. According to them, they was captured down in Ponyville. That means Grease’s crew is part of a larger group. That’s really bad, in case you didn’t know. A couple ponies did decide to stay, though.”

        I nodded.

        “Now about our deal.”

        My ears perked.

        “You did what I asked, and delivered. You even went above and beyond, by helping some of our citizens out, including my Deputy, Hammerlock. You and your companions earned your place. I’ll be expecting to hear about you in the future.”

        My face turned hot and suddenly the floor became incredibly interesting.

        “I- Uh, thanks...” I managed to get out.

        “Gee, kid, just complimenting you. A little red now, are we?” She teased.

        I nodded sheepishly.

        “Uh. Can I get some food?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

        Double Action began cracking up. Her ghoul companion snorted as well, but didn’t roll on the floor. The mare calmed down, occasionally snorting as her laughs were stifled. I rolled my eyes, and nudged her to get up.

        “Okaaaay. Let’s get some food.” Double Action said, still chortling.

        She rolled over onto her hooves and stood up. An uneasy feeling in the pit of my gut told me she’d never let me live this down. The door to the outside world burst open, and a wave of fresh air decked me in the face, albeit lovingly. I inhaled deeply and attempted to savor the moment. However, I was brutally interrupted by a massive hug from at least five ponies.

One, two, three, four- yeah, that’s them, I thought to myself.

        In order, Ballista had assaulted me, followed by Tesla Jolt, Gunpowder, and Spare Part lastly. I returned the embrace after a second or two. One by one they released me.

        “So did you really pull a bullet from your leg with a screwdriver?” Ballista asked skeptically.

        I nodded, glancing at a bandage on my leg. Her eyes widened, and Tesla Jolt and I burst into laughter.

        “It’s not that bad, really.” I assured the paralyzed mare, chuckling.

        A silence came over us, and everypony exchanged awkward glances. Spare Part cleared her throat.

        “Well. We did what Double Action asked, and we are set to settle down. So... when are you leaving?” She asked me.

        I froze for a moment, remembering that I had in fact said that I’d be leaving. I shook my head. That plan wasn’t changing.

        “Soon.” Was all I could say. Truthfully, I had no idea. “I’ll see to it that you guys are settled in, and then I’ll be off.

        “We already are. When you were sleeping, we talked to all the ponies ‘round town. Got ourselves some work, albeit with minimal pay.” Tesla returned.

        “Philanthropy?” I asked with a smirk.

        He nodded and chuckled.

        “Would you like to see our place? And yes, I do mean, ours. I know you’re leaving. But, if- if you need a place, you’re always welcome her.” Ballista asked.

        “Lead the way.”

        The housing that Double Action had promised was better than what I had anticipated. I had expected a few bunks in the communal house, but this was far superior. Located in what used to be a thrift shop, a cozy little one-room was prepared for them, lacking in proper furnishings, but still had storage and beds. They’d have to furnish it themselves.

        Ponies belongings were strewn about, generally gravitating towards their owner’s beds. There were four single beds, smushed together in pairs. I could only guess to as why. All in all, it was a fairly nice place by wasteland standards.

        “Like it?” Tesla asked.

        I nodded. They’d do well out here. A lone saddlebag in the corner of the room caught my eye. I trotted over to it. It was mine. I guess I hadn’t noticed it was moved while I was sleeping. My jacket and barding were on top of it, folded with care. I smiled as I shimmied into the armor. I hoisted the saddlebags over my shoulder, and pulled the jacket on after. I looked to and met the eyes of a several confused ponies.

        “Are you leaving? Like, now?” Gunpowder asked worriedly.

        I nodded, and began to trot to the door. I turned and smiled at them.

        “Stay safe.” And I trotted out the door.

        Part of me wanted to turn back; to stay with them. I knew what I needed to do. I needed to find Scoutwing. I’d find him, and then what? I had no clue. But I needed to find him. But how, was the question. My father had left no clue as to where he might have gone in his audio log. Knowing Scoutwing, he would’ve went to The Hoof.

        That’s a place to start. I walked towards the gate of Two Note, a new drive in me. I waved at the gate operators, who gave life to the winches keeping the jaws of the gate closed. It creaked open, inch by inch. The gate stood open, beckoning me. I walked towards it, glancing behind me one more time. A stallion with his hoof around a teary-eyed unicorn, and two lovers shaking their heads. They’d get over me.

        I turned to the open wasteland and stepped forth into it’s vastness. The safe walls of Two Note were behind me, and the dangers of the open world invited me in.

        “Are ya gonna come back?” The gate guard, Barley, asked.

        “Probably not.” I admitted. Of course I couldn’t say that to my friends.

        “Well, if’n ya do wanna, you’re always welcome. You done a great thing.” Wheat said.

        I nodded and waved goodbye. Word spread fast. I looked down at the cracked road as I walked. Wondering why I had left so abruptly puzzled me. Looking back, I kind of just up and left. Probably shouldn’t have done that. There was no going back now, I suppose. All I could do was keep going.

        I had walked an easy hundred yards from Two Note when I realized I could be flying. Huh. I extended my wings to full span, hearing bones crack. I let out a satisfied relief. I started into a trot, then a canter, and leapt into the air at a gallop. I pumped my wings furiously, trying to gain loft. A warm thermal passed under me, and I flew up higher.

        The vast sky surrounded me, a million different choices in front of me, and a billion more beyond them. Flying was incredibly stress relieving, as well as thought-provoking. I didn’t need to think now. Only fly. I held up my Pipbuck up and switched over to the Radio tab. A song began to blare through the speakers. It was progressive rock.

... suffer but I ain’t gonna cut you ‘cause,

This ain't no place for no hero

This ain't no place for no better mare

This ain't no place for no hero

To call home...

“Hey, kiddies, it’s me again; DJ Pon3 comin’ to you from my lovely locale in Manehatten. Got some news for ya. Caravans in the New Pegas region have been reportedly meeting raider bands along the highways. Rumors suggest that the bands are working under Water Wheel. More on that as it progresses.

Now for the interesting news, if I say so myself. Waaaaay out in the Badlands, yes, the Badlands, the small town of Two Note had reportedly sent out ponies to drive out a bandit by the name of Grease Trap and his gang. This happens often, children, but sometimes something else happens. In the aforementioned gang’s lair, a group of townsfolk were being held hostage. Also relatively common.

But one of the ponies sent to clear them went above and beyond. Apparently, one of them threw ‘imself into the hail of bullets. All so he could rescue those ponies. This comes from one of the former workers of Grease Trap. That’s all, kiddies. Stay alive, children. Here’s Sweetie Belle, singing about going your own way.”

Word does spread fast. Manehattan was a while from here, so unless DJ-Pon3 had hidden journalists throughout the wastes, I had nothing. The thermal I was riding had started to peter out, leaving me flapping my wings to keep lift. Music continued to play as I slowly descended, the air becoming thicker and easier to fly in.

Loving you... isn’t the right thing to do...

I hummed along to the music, bobbing my head. The bobby pin I had used to tame my mane was still in place, keeping purple locks from distorting my vision. I realized I had never given Spare’s pins back. Shaking my head, I chuckled. Ahead of me, mountains rose, towering over everything near it. Although it wasn’t officially the boundaries for the Badlands, it was where most ponies thought it ended.

Smoke rose from dying campfires, caravans packing and ready to continue making caps. I scanned the ground. It was a light brown blur, the cracks moving by too fast for the eye to capture. A greyish strip of concrete marked the highway. It was a relatively empty place, merely a crossroad of destiny. I looked forward again, breathing in.

A faint whizzy noise flew by my right ear.

Huh?, I thought as I looked down for the source.

Another whizzy noise to my left. What the hell was it? I shrugged mentally and continued flying. I got maybe five feet. A force like that of a tidal wave slammed into my chest. I just got shot. Again. The pain spread from it’s impact, suffusing throughout my barding. My wings froze up and I plummeted. I caught myself before impact, pulling up with several hard flaps. The benefit of a light body was less force required for lift.

The sudden exertion of labor on my wings disabled me from gaining height. I was going to crash, but it wouldn’t be bad. Just had to aim right, and not get shot. I aimed myself at the highway, going for a group of totalled carriages. I was feet from impact when I decelerated as quickly as I could. I hit the ground with a light thump. I got up to my hooves, shaking my head.

A garbled voice rang out in the distance, obviously pissed off. I pressed myself against an overturned cart, slinging Judicis into my shoulder. I looked into the scope. Five ponies galloped, firearms primed. I centered the crosshairs on the pony in the middle. A mare with no armor, and a rather rusty pistol. I held my breath and squeezed the trigger.

The mare’s head was not whole anymore, rather distributed in quite small chunks on the road and her friends’ faces. A stallion barked more orders, and the group split. Oh, good, make this more difficult. The remaining four split up into pairs, trying to flank me.

I wish my friends were here, I caught myself thinking. No. It was the right choice.

I swiveled to a pair of approaching ponies. From my scope I could see two mares, the red one with a shaved mane and a indigo one with dreadlocks. Armor covered red, but indigo was exposed. I aimed for her head. A glimpse of her cutie mark told me everything I needed to know. A pony impaled on a pike; how do you even get that?

I pulled the trigger, the round going slightly lower than expected. It caught her in the throat and she fell, gripping her severed windpipe. She stopped writhing. I aimed for her friend’s head and pulled the trigger. This round took her right eye out, and she screamed as she dropped. As I turned to face her other companions, I heard her sobs quiet until she was silent.

Her friends were much closer, probably around 25 feet away. No time to switch to my revolver. I aimed down the sights, and saw one pony charging. His eyes widened as I shot. Bone and grey matter painted a grotesque mural of sin and evil on the ground.

I ejected the shell from the action, grimacing at my work. One, two, three, four corpses. Wait, where was the fifth? A crunch sounded from my left, and the realization of what it was caused me to freeze. I only had a fraction of a second to stare at the oncoming freight train of a stallion slam full force into me. My body went limp as skidded across the pavement, flesh sanded off at every point of contact.

My head was spinning. There weren’t stars out during the day, were there? My vision cleared and I look up, getting an even scarier view of freight train running at me with what looked like a sledgehammer in his magical grasp. I scrambled to my hooves, but freight train caught me in the side. A sickening crack was felt in my chest and I began to cough violently, blood spraying from my mouth.

My revolver was knocked loose, skittering upon the cracked ground. I drug myself towards before freight train could finish me off. I leaned over and chomped on the mouth piece. Hoof stomps approaching rapidly, I had to be quick. The revolver was in my grasp and I whipped my neck around, pulling the trigger. And then nothing.

I kept my eyes closed, too scared to see if the big brute of a stallion was still alive. Taking my chances, I opened my eyes. Buck me. There he was, horn aglow with the fury of a thousand suns. The sledgehammer he wielded was bloodied and caked with gore. His nostrils flared, sending an absolutely repulsive blast of putrid breath at my face. My revolver dropped from my mouth as I fought vomiting.

“Water Wheel wants you dead!” The brute screamed, his voice still garbled but comprehensible.

I couldn’t say anything. The bullet I had fired missed, and now I was going to die. The brute raised his sledgehammer, and grinned. I closed my eyes, preparing my head for it’s inevitable popping. Freight train let out a sadistic laugh and brought his hammer down.

BLAM!

The sound of bullets and prolapsed skulls filled my ears. Was that what it sounded like for my head to be squished? I opened one eye. A dull green mare stood in front of me, offering her hoof.

“Looked like you needed some help.” Double Action said, grinning.

I grabbed her hoof and pulled myself up. Hold up; everything spinning. I looked around, hoping to see a three more pegasi and a unicorn. No such luck.

“Thanks... for saving me... heh.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Jeez, thanks for the big welcome. You realized that you were pretty much dead, right?” She retorted, rolling her eyes.

Images of freight train passed before my eyes.

“Yea. Thank you, though. Honestly. Why were you out here, anyways? Don’t you have to keep law in Two Note?” I asked.

“Well yea, I guess. But your friend Tesla Jolt was more than happy to take over. Of course Philanthropy and him had a, uh, minor scuffle about it.” She replied.

I nodded.

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, yea. I came out here to join you!” She answered, grinning widely.

If my jaw could’ve dropped to the ground, it would’ve.

“Why on this Celestia forsaken world would you do that?! It’s so much better at Two Note! ” I yelled.

She looked taken aback as her brows furrowed in agitation.

“Do you know what it’s like? Being cooped up in the fucking Badlands? There is nothing. To. Do.” She replied, prodding me with her hoof.

I tried to reply, but she cut me off.

“I was born here. I’ve been here for fifteen Luna-damned years. I want out.”

She was only fifteen? Before I could say anything, I had been pushed back into a carriage, my back pressed against it. Double looked at me for a second and turned away. A small sniffle came from the shaking mare. A grim frown came across my face. Did she really get upset about it? Was she really that miserable? She didn’t sound that way at Two Note.

I hesitated. Should I comfort her? Or should I just go. I couldn’t leave her here. She just saved my life. I walked over to the shaking pegasus and sat down. I sat for another minute or two before putting a hoof around her neck. I let out a sigh.

“I do know what it’s like.” I said.

She sniffed and looked up.

“When I was fourteen, I was taken from the surface to the Enclave. Some secret project. I dunno. The only pony I had was my brother. For three years it was like that. Then he left; Never said a word about it. I was devastated. There was nopony else that I had. I was transferred to Neighvarro. Four years there. Sure, I had friends, but they were few. Then I got kicked out again, and they were thrown into it with me. So yea. I know what it’s like. Being alone. Trapped. But you know what? Nopony deserves it.”

I still couldn’t believe she was only fifteen. Then again, the wastes called for mature ponies. I looked down at her cutie mark. Two revolvers crossing at the barrels. I sighed and shook my head.

“You know what? Fine. You can come with me, kid.” I gave into her request.

“Yes! Oh my Goddess, thank you so much!” She sprang up, embracing me in a rather tight bear hug.

As she bounced in circles around me, I clambered to my own hooves. As I stood up, her bouncing ceased as she composed herself.

“So, where are we going, anyways?” The teenager asked.

“Finding my family members. What do you plan to do once we get outta here?” I replied.

She thought for a moment, tapping her hoof on her chin.

“I don’t know, bud. Probably gonna follow you. See the world.” She answered.

I smiled.

“That’s a start. We’re going to The Hoof, just so you know.”

She nodded.

“Well, let’s get going. We’re wasting daylight.” She replied.

After gathering our supplies, we began to loot the dead raiders. Double Action fished through the belongings of the two raiders I had killed first, while I walked to the corpse of the brute. He was big, but by no means bigger than the hulk we encountered at my old residence. His sledgehammer was useless to me. Too heavy to swing. However, he had a pretty fancy looking magnum in his bags, along with ammo and food.

The most interesting however, was a dinged up Pipbuck with some suspicious stains on it. I took the computer watch and clicked it on. There was nothing in stats, as the Pipbuck was missing a leg to be clamped onto. I switched to Notes. A single audio log titled “Revenge” was on the screen. That wasn’t conspicuous at all. I pressed play. A quiet but soothing voice poured from the speaker.

“Hello, friend. If you are listening to this, you have been kindly asked to eliminate a rather big issue. You see, an outpost of mine, one I find dear to me, has been utterly slaughtered. The culprits have been identified as pegasi. Three mares: One pegasus with a violet mane and brown coat, another pegasus with greyish fur and a silver mane, and lastly, a unicorn with apricot fur and an orange mane. Once you have located them, kill them. You will be rewarded. I, Water Wheel, will personally give you said reward. Good luck, fillies and gentlecolts.”

I pouted. I was not a mare. Double Action had an eyebrow raised.

“Well, ain’t that something. Somepony has a vendetta on you.”

“Huh. Seems so.” I replied.

“Well, you just blew Water Wheel’s ‘hit squad’s’ heads off.”

I chortled and shook my head.

“Yea, I guess you’re right. C’mon, lets go.”

She nodded and off we went. I had left behind me friends to start a new life. I would have to deal with them not here to back me up or to share a laugh or two. I may have started over, but at least I wasn’t alone.

“Into the great wide open...” I mumbled under my breath.

Perk Acquired: New Start - Leaving your old life behind has reset all karmic imbalances. You are a new pony with no guilt or good deeds.

Badlands

Fallout Equestria

Inertia

Badlands

“It was here you were born, and it is here you will die.”

        A sprite-bot floated over the road, a lone reminder of days past. On either side of it, the scorched husks of houses loomed over the small machine with their shadows draped over it like a blanket. The lone robot softly played music, penetrating the desolate quiet of the wastes. Double Action and I walked along the same road. The robot and us are one in the same, I suppose.

        The Badlands had begun to let up; the arid and dusty plains devoid of life gave way to suburbs. My Pipbuck pinged. “Wooltown” appeared on the map, a decent distance from Two Note. Double Action cast a curious glance. I tilted my arm so the screen was directed at her. She let out a huff and looked ahead.

        The sprite-bot had wandered it’s own way, leaving us alone on the abandoned road. I had to admit, I kind of missed “March of the Parasprites” being played on repeat. I had lost DJ-Pon3’s signal an hour ago, and conversation between Double Action and I was concise at best. We were both tired, but the sun was still high in the sky. We continued to walk, the road becoming less craggy and shattered by the moment.

        “Okay, so when are we getting to where we wanna go?” Double Action asked. “And why aren’t we flying?”

        “I don’t know when we’re getting to The Hoof, and we aren’t flying because we’ll be easy targets.” I replied, rolling my eyes.

        Double huffed. Were all teenagers like this? I shook it off. We just had to keep walking, and we’d get there eventually. The suburbs were starting to end, with houses becoming infrequent. I reached for a bottle of water. Nothing. I forgot I had given it all to Double Action.

        “Hey Double, you got an-” I was cut off by a hoof wrapped around my mouth.

        I struggled against the unknown attacker, trying to find Double Action. I writhed in the mystery pony’s grasp. The pony grunted, and I threw my head back, hoping to strike something. The pony holding cursed in a mare’s voice, but her grip did not falter. She dragged me across the ground, myself still struggling. Where the hell was Double Action?

        I thrashed about, hoping be released from the grip of the mare strangling me. I fought and fought, vision growing darker by the moment. My body screamed for oxygen as I bucked. My kicks faltered into nothing but petty taps. My eyes rolled back into their sockets, and my body lost consciousness.

        It smelled awful in here. My eyes fluttered open, letting the light filter in. I layed there for a second before realized why I was asleep. I shot up, slamming my head against... something. I groaned and looked up. It was a metal ceiling thing, with multiple metal bars... on all sides. So I was in a cage. I rubbed my head, or at least attempted to. To my chagrin, my legs were bound above the knee.

        It took me a moment to realize what situation I was in.

Chains? Cages? Horrible odors? Fuck. I thought. Slavers or raiders.

        I blinked a few times. Around me, ponies bound in chains slept. Permanently, I couldn’t tell. It smelled bad enough. It was late at night, as far as I could tell. Moonlight distorted by clouds flowed through the cage bars, illuminating the cage. Outside of the cage, firelight softly glowed, ponies huddled around it’s warmth. It was pretty cold, now that I had thought about it.

        I let a sigh of relief, muffled by an incredibly inconvenient gag, out as I found my barding and jacket still on my body. Judicis was nowhere to be found, and that made me slightly agitated. I liked that gun. Around me, ponies of all ages lay down, shivering. I pondered trying to climb to my hooves. Making that much noise wouldn’t be smart.

        There were other cages next to mine, each with helpless ponies in chains. I craned my neck, trying to see if Double Action was in one of these cages. It was too dark to see, and Double Action’s pelt and mane didn’t help me out. Turning on my Pipbuck light on could result in a missing leg. I was lucky they hadn’t removed it already. I slumped against the cage bars, a slight thump reverberating through the metal structure. A frown hung on my muzzle, defeat ostracizing me incessantly.

I had about drifted off to sleep, when something plinked against my barding. I looked up, a scowl plastered on my face. In the cage to my right, a teenage mare with a dull green coat threw pebbles at me. Double Action beckoned me to approach her. I carefully rolled over a stallion next to me, who just grunted.

“Thank Luna. I didn’t know if you were okay.” I whispered.

“Yea, same here. They got me as I was checking out a mail box. Any ideas on how to get outta this mess?”

“No clue. You?”

The filly flashed an evil grin.

“I might.”

I shot a smirk back. I think I could get used to her comedic relief. I rolled my hoof, signaling her to go on. The plan was to wait. Learn about the ponies who captured and embarrassed us, or at least me. I checked my Pipbuck. Just after one in the morning. Seeing the time kicked my brain into sleep mode. I let out a quiet yawn and wriggled into a the corner of the cage, with Double Action just next to me in the other cage.

I sat on my haunches for awhile, watching the ponies at the campfire. Their silhouettes moved against the flickering fire every once in awhile. As time wore on, ponies stood up and stumbled over to what I presumed was their sleeping arrangements. The fire died down, and a small pile of embers illuminated the darkness. I checked my clock one more time. Half an hour after one. My eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

“Wake up, cunts!”

Something struck the cage bars, sending a high-pitched ring and a head-rattling vibration throughout the cell. I sat up and rubbed my head. The ponies around me stirred, gradually waking up to their dreary existence. In the light, they looked more pathetic than I had thought. Dirt filled cuts covered their bodies, some looking seriously infected.

I got up on my hooves, stretching. I had somehow shifted in my sleep so that my neck was craned down, leaving it incredibly sore. I rolled it a few times, muscles loosening and bones cracking. A unicorn holding a key in her telekinetic grip made rounds to each cage, unlocking them. Her mane was crudely braided, draped around her shoulders, which were also incredibly filthy.

A whip cracked, and somewhere around me a pony yelped in pain. I winced. This might be a bit painful. Ponies filed out of the cages, one by one. I walked in formation out of the cell, taking the chance to breathe some air that wasn’t putrid. Whips cracked and cries of pain sounded as ponies were lined up. I looked over at Double Action, who gave a slight nod.

A deep blue mare leapt up upon one of the cages and stomped her hoof.

“Attention, whelps! We’ve got a ways ‘till the Hoof. Once there... well, we’ll let your new master decide.”

A couple of ponies gasped in horror, and one colt begin to bawl.

“Ringer!” A light velvet mare perked up at her name’s mention. “Is the merchandise ready to ship?”

“Everyli- ponies ready, Saph!” The mare replied, saluting.

Saph turned to us.

“Let’s go! Oh, and if you try anything, we’ll shoot ya dead.” She said with a grin.

We began to walked, chains rustling as we travelled. The first thing I had noticed was the lack of bomb collars. Slavers didn’t like having slaves attempt to escape, so they ended up employing explosive accessories. However, there were none to be seen. Either way, slavers were slavers and the only good ones are dead ones. I huffed, pushing back the urge to up and slap Saph. My hooves were still bound, so I doubt I’d be able to raise my leg anyways.

Of course, attempting to harm one of these ponies would result in a most painful demise. I shook the thought from my head and looked around. The slavers were actually considerably organized. Captives were split into ranks; two columns of five, with a guard on each side. There were more guards than I had thought, too. A griffon flew overhead, a high powered rifle nestled in the crook of her arm.

I looked ahead. My view was blocked by a stallion with an unkempt brown mane. This was going to be a while, but we were going to the Hoof, or so Saph had said. I don’t really know if I can trust her. Either way, I’m stuck until we arrive. On second thought, the stallion in front of me does have a nice flank...

        I hadn’t noticed the griffon begin to plummet until he had slammed into ground, claws unintentionally opening a gash in my face. The chains binding me were broken, although the shackles themselves wouldn’t come off. I looked around, shock still gripping me as I processed the recent events. An explosion decimated a group of slavers, sending a shower of viscera over nearby slaves. Bullets whizzed by my head, and I dove to the ground, not wanting to relive my intimate moments with the screwdriver.

        The slavers were still confused as to where their attackers were. It wasn’t until a... thing barreled into a group of guards, sending them sprawling.

        “Cuuuuunts!” The monster yelled.

A small gap in the panicking slaves allowed me a small glimpse. My eyes widened. The Reapers were here. You could tell they were Reapers by the absolutely terrifying augmentations they had installed. The monster pony let loose a barrage of incredibly loud shots. The calibre of that bullet had to be massive.

I frantically searched for Double Action amidst the chaos, but the dull green filly was nowhere to be seen. I swung around and came face to face with the exact pony I was looking for.

“We gotta go!” She yelled over the chaos. Her chains were also broken.

“We have to get our gear!” I replied.

Her eyes widened and she galloped off. I scrambled to my hooves and chased after her. The filly darted in between captives and slavers, with agility that I could only parallel. More Reapers had appeared, charging with no apparent survival instinct. I had almost run into a strange striped mare with an evil set of armor and a ripper. Double Action and I slid into cover behind a cart. She pried open the cart, revealing a cache of weapons, armor, and other gear.

Near the top of the heap was my belongings. I put on my barding, jacket, and saddlebags, slinging Judicis over my shoulder last. Double Action had her gear ready too. The battle was raging around us, with Reapers and slavers spraying into the fray. The Reapers would win, but at a cost.

“Let’s go!” I yelled.

The two of us bolted away from the cart. My face slammed into concrete, and the taste of blood flooded my mouth. I whipped around to see what had tripped me. On the ground lay a light velvet mare, blood pouring from a laceration on her back. It was Ringer, one of Saph’s lackeys. The petrified pony looked up at me desperately.

“H- help!” She cried, her voice gravelly and dry.

Double Action gave me a look that told me she had no idea what to do. As much as I hated slavers, I didn’t want more ponies dying. I galloped over to the limp form of Ringer.

“Double! I need your help!” I cried to the green mare.

Double Action galloped over to me, ducking as bullets zipped by. Double and I lifted Ringer onto my back. The weight was immense, and it took a moment for me to get used to it. Double Action propped herself under my cargos back legs, taking some of the weight off. We galloped as quick as we could, temporarily disregarding the mare on my back. We just had to get clear from the fight.

A mare screamed behind us. I cringed, hoping it wasn’t a captive. It had started pouring, with thunder booming. It became difficult to tell gunshot from thunder, but I knew we were making distance. There was an abandoned rest stop ahead. I looked at Double Action, who had her eyes set on the same place. I stole a glance behind me. Ponies were still fighting, and I was glad to not be in that mess. Especially glad that nopony decided to come after us.

The rest stop was approaching fast. Torn posters of a creepily smiling pink mare peered into my soul. I could barely make out the words, -inki -ie is watchi- yo-. I could decipher ‘watching’, and ‘you’, but -inkie -ie baffled me. I walked into the abandoned rest stop, Ringer still on my back. Double Action had dropped the weight of Ringer she was relieving me of and went in to scope the place out.

I pushed the door open, my knees beginning to wobble from the weight. The inside of the store had been picked clean, leaving nothing but empty shelves. My legs buckled and I flopped on the floor, the velvet mare tumbling with me. I groaned and heaved the mare off of me. Double Action snorted and began sifting through her bags. She pulled out a healing potion, and tossed it to me. I pried the cork from the top, and brought Ringer’s head close. The purple liquid flowed down her throat, and some color returned to her face.

Ringer stood up, her legs still wobbly. She shook her head, mane flopping against her head. She walked over to a shattered piece of glass, staring at her reflection. I figured now was the time to make ourselves known. That notion was thrown out as a plume of green fire engulfed the mare from hoof to head. Double and I looked on in awe and horror as the mare was burnt alive. She didn't even scream. As Double Action and I walked out to investigate the remains, the fire cleared.

In Ringer's place, a black insectoid… pony stood. It's black carapace shone, illuminating two bug-like wings.  Double Action's jaw dropped at the same time as mine. Our eyes were about ready to burst from their sockets.

"Ah. Much better." The insect-pony-thing said in a buzzy voice, apparently relieved.

It turned around and came face to face with a still awestruck Double Action and I.

The insect's eyes widened, and a sheepish grin crossed it's face.

"W-what? You never s-seen a ch-changeling before?" It asked with a nervous chuckle.

I shook my head,  mouth still agape.

"Well… Yea. I'm a changeling. The name's Ringer." She continued, sticking a hoof-like thing out. It was full of holes.

I reluctantly bumped my hoof with hers, still slightly amazed.

"What in Celestia's name is a Chongelang?" Double Action.

I facehoofed. You don't just ask people what their species is.

"Disregard that, please. She's a teenager." I apologized.

Double Action shot me an annoyed look, and I returned with a scowl. She got the message.

"Uh, sorry, Ringer. Please, uh, sit down. I'll get you some water, hehe." The filly said.

I sat down across from Ringer, and rolled my eyes.

"Kids, huh?" Ringer said sarcastically.

I snorted.

"We were all like that at one point." I replied.

Ringer shrugged. There was a long silence, thankfully broken by Double Action returning with some consumables.

"I hope I didn't weird you out with the whole transformation bit, there." She said sheepishly.

"Well, you could at least explain it." Double Action blurted before I could talk.

I mouthed an apology to Ringer. She shrugged indifferently.

"I suppose that'd be in order. Anyways, the changelings are a species of shape shifters. We live, or used to live in hives, governed by a queen. After the war, and the queen's breaking of the hive mind, changelings began to spread out. There aren't many of us left, since we can't take care of the eggs that easily."

She paused, allowing this to sink in. Double Action offered her some granola, which I have no recollection of owning. Ringer shook her head.

"Changelings feed on love, not pony food."

Double Action spat out her mouthful of granola… into my mane. Of course.

“Really, Double? We’re gonna have to talk about manners some time.” I said, grooming my granola mane.

“Jeez, sorry Dad.” The filly retorted, rolling her eyes.

Ringer began to laugh as I strained to get the oats from my hair. I sat up once this grueling task was complete.

“Continue.”

“So anyways, changelings feed on love.”

“Then how are you alive now? There isn’t much love today.”

“One would think that, but love exists in all kinds of forms. Friendship, passion for hobbies, lust, platonic relationships, etcetera. Before the armageddon, changelings had learned how to harness these kinds of love. While they may not be as, um, filling as true love, they still sustain us.”

I nodded. Time to ask my question.

“So. What were you doing with slavers?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

She rubbed the back of her head, chuckling nervously.

“Well, I needed a safe ride to the Hoof. Slaver caravans are generally left alone.” She explained.

“Trust me, I hate the business just as much as you do. Probably.”

Double Action gave me a look that said she didn’t trust Ringer. I couldn’t disagree.

“It ain’t a business.” Double Action scoffed.

Ringer shrugged.

“If you can make a profit, it’s a business. Not a very nice one, though.”

I felt anger boil in my stomach. Apparently morality didn’t mean a thing. An awkward silence came over the three of us. Ringer could obviously tell that we didn’t trust and or like her. I didn’t want anything to do with her. It’d be better she leaves so Double and I can keep going.

“I see... So, when will you be leaving?” I asked, a slight edge to my voice.

“Um, I gues-”

“Come with us.” Double Action interrupted.

“What?!” Ringer and I exclaimed simultaneously.

“She is not coming with us!” I yelled.

Double Action’s face turned angry.

“And why not?!”

“Because Ringer’s a good-for-nothing slaver! Her value as a person is nothing!”

Ringer looked hurt.

“Well she’s going to the Hoof, too! Besides, two ponies and one changeling is safer than just the two of us!” She retorted. “It’d be damn harder to get the jump on us, and if you don’t remember, that just happened!”

I bit my lip. She had a point. Double Action’s eyes shot daggers at me. They were a deep emerald that could bore into your soul. Her glare softened into a disappointed gaze.

“And here I was thinking you were the mature one.” She said, shaking her head.

I raised a hoof in objection but lowered it immediately.

“Ringer, you can come with us.” Double Action said, looking at Ringer.

“Really? But you-”

“No, you can come with us. He’s just being a baby.”

Ringer beamed. I put a hoof on my cheek, a pout on my face. A sharp pain shot from under my eye. I winced and looked at my hoof. Blood dripped from the keratin. I had forgotten that the griffon guard had slashed my face. I stuck my snout into my saddlebags. Bandages, bandages, wherefore art thou?

My muzzle brushed up against something soft. I pulled it out, and to my luck it was a roll of gauze. Now I needed an actual bandage. My nose dove into my belongings once again. A round bandage was plucked from the mess of items and placed under my left eye. I pressed a strip of gauze on the dressing to hold it in place and began to wrap the gauze around my head. The bandage wrapped all the way around my head, going inside of my ear and around my neck. I looked my reflection. My mouth was slightly covered by the bandage, but it left enough room for coherent speech.

“Hey, Sir Pouts-A-Lot! You ready to go?” Double Action called from the other side of the room.

“Yea! Lemme get my things.” I replied.

I trotted over to the door, gear on my back. Ringer looked at me with perplexion. I returned with an icy glare. She rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know how Double Action can trust her, let alone want her to tag along with us. She’ll probably end up flip flopping and sell us. Of course, I’d put a bullet in her skull if she tried.

My eyes widened as I realized that I had just thought that. I shuddered, shoving that thought out of my brain. Double trotted up next to me. Her eyes widened and she tried to suppress a giggle.

“You look like a wannabe badass.” She choked, barely containing her laughter.

I rolled my eyes.

“Are you all ready?” I asked, ignoring Double’s quip.

“Yea.” said Double Action and Ringer.

I poked my head through the door, looking around. For all I knew, there could’ve been enemies. I stepped outside, the musty and stale air replaced by a cool breeze. I cracked my neck, bones popping in a slightly gruesome yet satisfying way. My eyes caught sight of my Pipbuck compass. I groaned in frustration. Red is dead, white’s alright.

“I really should pay attention to that.” I muttered.

An old road sign lay on the ground, it’s iron supports corroded. In bold white against green, “Hoofington, 4.5 Miles”. I sighed with relief. We were getting closer to the Hoof, and to Scoutwing.

Home on the Range

Fallout: Equestria

Inertia

Homecoming

“I'm sorry. You're a hero... and you have to leave.”

Sunlight was gone. Instead was a sickly green cloud blanket smothering the land. The joy of Nature’s warmth is gone, shattered by the pounding rains and harsh winds. I never realized how beautiful it was. My eyes flicked open. The morning haze lingered still, slowing my mind. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up. I gazed around the cave. Everypony was still sleeping, and I decided that waking them up would result in a hoof to the face. Instead, I pulled myself up and shambled to the cave entrance.

As I stepped outside, a wave of serenity washed over me. I should be worried, but being in my old domain made me feel... alive? A cool breeze passed, sending shivers up my spine. My body’s aching, but it felt good. Made me feel real. Inhaling deeply, the surface air felt musty in my lungs. I’d get used to it. On the small perch I was standing on, I could see a vast expanse of the Badlands below me.

This was our home now. But where would we go? Back up into the clouds would be suicide, and cities like Friendship City were too far. Manehatten was a long trek, but Tenpony Tower would be a beacon of security. I furrowed my brow. Sighing, I look back at the vast expanse below me. The Badlands was basically a series of canyons and depressions, with rivers, albeit irradiated, flowing through. I don’t know how my parents did it.

“Why don’t you go find your house, then. Dumbass...” My subconscious snapped. I didn’t know I could be that rude.

Though I was right. My parents made a life out here. Why not? We didn’t have any other plans. Besides, what if my family is there? That means we’d have a safe haven, at least for awhile. I nodded to nopony in particular, and trotted back inside the cave. Maybe this will all work out, at least for my friends. That’s all that mattered.

As I trotted into the ever-darkening cave, faint sounds of movement made my ears perk. Turning a corner, I saw Spare Part putting her armor on. Next to her, Gunpowder batted at the air, wondering where her marefriend went, and mumbled incoherently.

Tesla knelt by Ballista, nuzzling her neck. As her eyes fluttered, she blushed and pecked Tesla on the cheek. D’awwww. BallistaXTesla OTP. Chuckling, I began to pack my gear as Tesla turned a shade of red visible from under his black coat.

“You two need to get hitched.” I said as I smirked at the two.

They tried to reply, but their words got jumbled, which only made me laugh more. I slipped into my barding from Calamity’s knapsack. It was actually just riot armor, but it did the job. It felt cool to the touch, yet still welcoming. It fit wonderfully. Before I fully immersed myself in the vest, I checked the label. It’s a mare’s size 5. Yep. I rolled my eyes and shimmied into the rest of the armor. After that was done, I slipped my saddlebags over my shoulders.

I felt bad for carrying so little. Even Ballista had more than me. But I couldn’t carry all that much, so I was left feeling like a jerk. Gunpowder was still snoring loudly. Spare Part chuckled and nudged her awake.

“Wake up, hon. We’re goin’ on an adventure!” She cooed.

Suddenly the slate-grey mare’s eyes shot open, her salt and pepper mane flopping wildly.

“I LOVE ADVENTURE!” She squealed, hugging the silver unicorn tightly.

Spare blew her rust colored mane from her eyes, and everypony started roaring with laughter. It was a good sign. The laughter slowly petered out, and Tesla looked at me.

“Are we ready?” He asked, his deep voice rumbling.

Everypony nodded. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I looked around at my team. A black stallion with a white mane named Tesla Bolt. A silver mare with a rusty mane named Spare Part. A grey mare with a salt and pepper mane named Gunpowder. An apricot unicorn mare with a dark orange mane named Ballista. Each one of us with our quirks and talents. We were ready.

“Let’s go.” I said.

I turned around, the light of the dull sky shining at me. At that moment, it meant more to me than that. It was a new beginning. I began to walk. The determination built up into a trot, and off we went. Climbing down from Loft Cave was simple enough. A small path guided us down from our perch. Behind me, I could hear my companions going ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at every little detail. Couldn’t blame ‘em. Canyons were impressive when you thought about it.

“So tell me, Jury. Where are we going?” Tesla asked.

“That, my friend, is a question worth answering. We are currently traveling to my old home, before the Enclave. Hopefully my family is there.” I replied wistfully.

Tesla ruminated over this for a second and nodded. Soon after, Spare Part spoke up.

“Hey, you never did tell us about your family.”

I winced. It wasn’t a thing I liked to speak about, but I figured I owed them that. Sighing in defeat, I began to speak.

“My family consists of seven ponies. Mom, Dad, and four siblings, not including me. My mother is a unicorn named Honeydew, born in the Hoof. My father is an earth pony named Red Eye. He came from Stable 101, an all earth pony stable. He had a bunch of cybernetic enhancements, specifically a glowing cyber eye. I have two brothers and two sisters. My brother Scoutwing was a pegasus like me, he was with me in the Enclave, for awhile at least. My other brother was the youngest, being four years old when I left. His name was Soot, and he was a unicorn. My older sister, who was the eldest of my siblings, was named May Lily, also a unicorn.”

“My last sibling’s name is Homage. A unicorn, and the sibling I was closest to before the Enclave shit. And that’s it for the members of my family, really. We were generally well off for wastelanders. My mother’s special talent was gardening. She had a spell to purge a small portion of land permanently, making it safe and fertile. We had fresh food! Well, most of the time.”

“My father had brought university level learning materials with him from the stable. By the time anypony reached age 13, we were geniuses. He had this idea of “Unity,” that he wanted to spread. Something about a Goddess and a divine truth. I thought it was dumb. I never knew how it turned out.”

I finished my explanation, and everypony nodded.

“Wow! You have a pretty nice family, it seems!” Gunpowder piped.

I smiled and nodded. We had been walking for about an hour or two. I checked my Pipbuck map, disappointed that it had not updated. However, the mini hollow arrows were closer, and deciding to see what it was, I changed direction. Nopony questioned my guidance, which was a bit of a relief, since I had no clue where I was going. Looking around, I never really noticed how tall these canyons were. The dry and arid ground had taken most of my attention.

We still had a large quantity of water from Calamity, but it slowly was depleting. It annoyed me. The Badlands was the only area in the wastes that didn’t have rain all the time. Even though clouds covered everything, nary a droplet of water was given. Didn’t matter, because a multitude of rivers flowed through the canyons.

Truthfully, I didn’t know where I was going. Loft Cave was new to me, and there weren’t many landmarks in the Badlands. Maybe at this little arrow held the answer. Every once in awhile, I checked the map. Still maintaining a good course. There was also a clock, which was probably my favorite feature of the Pipbuck. It was a cute little computer.

An hour passes with little excitement. There wasn’t much out here. When I was a colt, the Reapers would sometimes pass through, and raider clans would stampede on by every so often. I understand why my parents chose here. It was quieter than most. My father always liked Fillydelphia, which confused the hell out of me. It was an irradiated pit.

“Look!” Gunpowder shouted, hopping around.

Up ahead, a small building lay just off the side of a decaying road. My Pipbuck hadn’t updated, but from the looks of it, the arrow was on top of the shack.

“Ok. Be careful, everypony. We don’t know what's in there. It could be raiders, slavers, hellhounds, anything!” I warned, taking note of their widening eyes at the word “hellhound.”

I smirked, and resumed trotting towards the building. It looked abandoned, but after a nasty run in with two raiders engaging in some inappropriate behavior as a colt, I learned my lesson. Ugh. As I stepped across the road, my Pipbuck blinked. Rock Break’s Rest Station appeared on the screen over my indicator. And suddenly I knew where I was.

Motioning to my companions to quiet down, I slinked towards the door. I pressed an ear to the worn wooden door. Nothing. I looked at Tesla. He had the bigger guns on his battle saddle. He nodded in understanding, and motioned for me to move away. I stepped aside, and no later did a black blur demolish the door, leaving me dazed.

I looked around the corner, and found Tesla giving me a goofy grin. I returned the grin, and trotted in. Ballista, Gunpowder, and Spare followed suit. In the corner lay a stained mattress, along with two bottles of whiskey, one empty, one full. I took the full one.

“Nothing here.” Spare Part spoke.

“Actually, babe, you’re wrong! There could be a safe behind the counter, or ammo boxes, or GRENADES. I LOVE GRENADES!” Gunpowder observed, zipping around the room at speeds unimaginable.

“She’s right. Let’s take a look.” I followed through.

There actually was a pretty decent find here. Old preserved food from before the war and miscellaneous junk mostly. Sugar Apple Bombs were in abundance, though, and were my personal favorite. Squee! Looting had the effect of making you feel powerful. Like the world was a large tree with fruit perfectly ripe and succulent. My spree was made when I discovered a small floor safe. Locked. Nothing a bobby pin and a screwdriver couldn’t remedy.

My lockpicking skills were average. My father found it necessary to give me the means to access hidden caches of goodies, and for that I sent a small thanks his way, wherever he was. I had a screwdriver, a necessity for an engineer such as me. Bobby pins, however, were not something I needed or had in supply.

“Anypony got a bobby pin or two?” I called.

“What, you finally embracing your feminine side?” Spare Part retorted.

“Shut up!” I yelled, voice cracking horribly. “I need to pick a lock, for your information.”

“Ok, sure.” She replied, drawing out the last word sarcastically.

She trotted over and handed me a box of pins. About fifty pins in the box, according to the label. Nice. I pulled out my screwdriver and a pin with my teeth and got to work. Holding the bobby pin with my hoof, I moved it around until I found a spot with little resistance. Slowly easing the screwdriver into forcing the lock, I tried my best not to snap it.

A small snap sounded, and I groaned. Round two. I moved the pin to roughly the same location, I tried once more. This time, I was more attentive to the distinct resistance you could feel when the pin was about to snap. I got close, but felt the pin bending, and let up. Adjusting a little bit, I tried once again. An extremely satisfying click echoed through the tiny shack.

“You get it open?” Spare Part asked.

I popped my head up, grinning wildly.

“Eeyup!”

Slowly opening the safe, as to savor the feeling of victory, I wondered what could be in the lockbox. Before I looked, something tickled my mane. I looked up and saw Gunpowder breathing heavily on me.

“Um, can I help you?” I asked, trying to hold in my terror.

“Nope! Just watchin’!” She replied giggling.

I paused, raising an eyebrow, and started chortling. Turning back to the safe, I flipped the hatch open. Inside, a 10mm pistol and a rather heavy bag of bottle caps. Pumping a hoof, I grabbed my loot and turned back to my companions.

“Spare! Heads up!” I yelled, tossing the pistol at her. She squealed.

“Are those bottle caps?” Tesla asked.

Grinning, I nodded.

“Why do we need those?” He asked, perplexed by the rituals of the surfacers.

“Money!” I replied, giddy with the thought of a shopping  spree. For guns, of course.

He raised an eyebrow, and shrugged. I put the caps in my bag, and a beep from my Pipbuck informed me of the total amount. Six hundred and fifty caps. Not a bad sum in the slightest. I was a little detested when Tesla underestimated the power of caps. Everything seemed to have been picked clean. Except one thing.

By the door, a small pouch labeled “Maps” held the promise of figuring out where we’d go next. I trotted over, and pulled open the envelope. Buck. Yes. Inside was a tour guide’s map, and marked every natural and ponymade structure. As I scanned the map, a series of beeps blasted from my Pipbuck. My ears flattened against my head, and I examined the noisy little device. Several map locations had appeared, though not yet filled in.

Mostly pre-war tourist centers, canyon entrances, and rest stops. I sighed, saddened that my house wasn’t on the list. As I put my foreleg down, another beep sounds.

“Anchor Cliffs...” I whisper, my eyes widening.

Looking up, I smiled and left the building, companions in tow. When my parents had first settled down, they told my Anchor Cliffs was what made them stay. It was a beautiful outlook of the other canyons, and my folks built a house right across the canyon, under an overhang. The only issue was getting to the top of the canyons from the gulch we were in.

Ballista, being the only non-pegasus, had a severe mobility impairment. Instead, she just hopped on Tesla’s back. Rolling my eyes, I took his saddlebags off and placed them over mine.

“Thanks.” He said as he took off.

The rest of us followed suit, flying up the cliff face. We touched down, and Ballista was too petrified to move. Tesla shook her off, which she had not prepared for. This caused a giggle fit between Gunpowder and I.

“Why’d we go up? I thought we were trying to lay low.” Spare Part asked.

“We’re heading to some cliffs near here. But before we do that, why don’t we eat something. It’s just past noon.” I suggest, feeling my stomach rumble.

At that, everypony’s stomach growled. Tesla chuckled as he shucked his bags. Sticking his head in, he pulled out some MREs and bottles of water. I inspected the bag of Enclave issued feed bags. 100% hayseed. It wasn’t my favorite, but it did have a pungent aftertaste that was quite lovely. Breaking the silence, I decided to ask how my friends were doing.

“So. How’re you guys handling this?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not so bad, honestly. I thought it was just a toxic deathtrap down here, but I’ve seen some sights, like these canyons. What I’m worried about, though, is having to fight. I- I’ve never killed anypony before.” Spare Part replied, choking up at the end.

“I agree.” Ballista added, staying succinct as always.

Tesla only nodded.

“Well I for one LOVE this! I mean, it’s not everyday you get to explore a whole new world. But it IS everyday for us! This is great. But I really, really, really wanna use this new ‘Splody Launcher!” Gunpowder finished, her bubbly personality ever present.

“Well, it’s good you guys are taking it well. I’ll warn you now, though. You will eventually have to fight. It’s just the wastes. When that time comes, don’t let it get to you.” I said. “I suppose it’s time we get going. Just leave your trash wherever. It’s not gonna need to be cleaned.”

And the trek started once more. Walking for a long time gave some peace and quiet that was quite nice for thinking. So far, nothing’s gone wrong, and that irks me. You know the rules. If something is good, it’s gonna go to shit soon. That’s how it always worked. At least for me.

Another hour passed, and another after. I took glance behind me. Tesla walked side by side with Ballista, and Spare Part and Gunpowder did the same. I felt kind of lonely. I’d only ever had one pony in my life. And he killed me. Seeing a happy couple and a budding romance just put me down. No. I can’t make this about me. Keep them safe. Do what Calamity wanted me to do. Shutting all thoughts from my mind, I walked.

“Uh, Jury? You’re gonna walk off the cliff.” Spare Part shook me from my melancholy.

“Oh, yea. Heh, thanks. We’re pretty close, and all we gotta do is cross this space and reach that mound over there.” I explained.

Repeating the process from flying up onto the cliffs, we crossed the chasm, painfully slowly, might I add. Pegasi got antsy sometimes. Once we all crossed, we kept a brisk pace to the cliffs. Time seemed to slow as our destination grew closer. I could almost taste it. I could imagine it, now. Walking in, my siblings and parents embracing me. Introducing my friends, explaining the situation. Hopefully.

We were at the base of a small climb. Once we reached the top, we’d be above the other canyons with a view of everything, including my house.

“You all ready?” I asked my companions. “We’re arriving shortly!”

Wide smiles met my question, which I returned. I blew my mane out of my eyes, and started trotting. It was a short climb, but I made sure to stop. There were some red bars on the compass of my Pipbuck, which was new to me.

“Here we are!” I announced, and stepped up to the edge.

No.

It could not be.

Instead of a welcoming home, with a loving mother tending her garden, a father playing with foals, and a warm hearth, I was greeted with splayed torsos and entrails. Corpses and blood stained the cracked ground around the door. I started to tear up.

“No. No. No, no, no! NO!” I shouted in rage, tears now freely flowing. “Th- Th- No!”

I bucked at a rock, and a sharp pain erupted through my leg. I collapsed. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to. All I wanted was death. A voice broke through the snuffing darkness. Scoutwing.

“Jury Rig, don’t do this. You’ve been through enough. Don’t shut down. Don’t let your friends die. Don’t let their blood be on your hooves.” He spoke, soft voice echoing through my head. He was right. But those ponies desecrated a safe haven. They were going to die.

I shot up on my hooves, and swung around, tears still fresh in my eyes.

“Alright. You four, go down and draw the raiders out of my home. Don’t get caught. Just bring them out. I’ll signal you to attack.” I said as I turned.

“What’s the sig-” Tesla asked, but I cut him off.

“You’ll know.” I replied, acid running in my trembling voice.

My companions soon disappeared from sight, and I took a breath. Blowing my mane out of my eyes, I trotted up to the stone I had bucked. I was mad. Beyond mad. I was death itself. Slinging Judicis over my shoulder, I fit a round into it’s action and closed it. It sounded beautiful. Taking a moment to look at it’s trigger, I realized there was no mouth grip. Instead, a wedge shaped lever was there. It fit it into the cleft of my hoof. A perfect match. I grinned. That was wonderful, as I loathed mouth grips.

I lay down on my belly, and fit the butt of the rifle into my shoulder. Peering down the scope, I could see my friends slowly approaching my home. Old home, at least. Tesla picked up a rock in his hoof, and whipped it at the door. Soon enough, two crudely armored stallions stepped out. Through my scope, I could see their pinprick yellow eyes.

They were infected. Some disease that started out by a place called Yellow River awhile ago, turned nice ponies into sadistic fucks. It’s a shame, but they have to be put down. My friends were hiding behind a boulder, waiting for my signal. I’ll send a signal all right. I focused down my scope. Perking my ears, I felt the wind blowing strongly from my right. It had to have been at least four hundred meters.

I was the best sniper in Thunderhead. Fuck your physics. Aiming up and slightly to the right, I took a deep breath. Time slowed. I pulled my hoof towards me. A flash. Without missing a beat, I flicked another bullet into the chamber, closed it, and fired. Time returned to normal. Through my scope, I saw what was once a head be reduced to a pulp, splattering the pony next to it, who suffered the same fate. Two faint smoke trails marked where the bullets curved from wind and gravity.

And then explosions. Gunpowder opened fire, and I swear to Luna I could hear her giggling on the wind. More raiders poured out of my old home. Tesla and Spare Part were picking shots carefully, albeit missing most of the time. Green plasma bolts and magnum rounds filled the battlefield, accompanied by a chorus of raider weapons.

“How many of them are there?” I say aloud.

It didn’t matter. Enough had poured from the shack to level the playing field. The raiders returned fire, from 32. pistols to the terrifying roar of a minigun. The pony operating said minigun was a brute of a stallion. Fully armored in what appeared to be brick fucking walls. A fucking building guarded this buck. I peered down my scope to see if a weak point was to be found.

As I looked down the sight, on the top of the peripherals was a red bar. It was slowly extending. I moved the sight off of the buck. Red bar gone. Moved it back on. Red bar appeared. Curious, I let it charge. When it reached the other end of the scope, it began to blink. I think it was indicating me to shoot. I pulled the trigger. Instead of a normal flash, a gold pulse emanated from the barrel. I pulled away from the scope, in time to see a gold trail following my shot.

Peering back down the scope, the brute’s corpse lay lifeless on the ground, releasing a soft glow. His helmet was gone, and his head was nowhere to be found. Well, sit me on Luna’s horn and spin me like a record. It WAS enchanted! Realizing my friends were still shooting, I left my perch and took off. I slung Judicis over my shoulder as I flew. Gaining height, I slowed. I began to dive. I gain enough speed so I don’t get hit. Speeding towards the earth, I slowed at the last second, behind the boulder where my friends were.

“WE GOTTA PUSH FORWARDS!” I yelled to Tesla. “START STRAFING.”

He nodded and took flight. Swooping around, he peppered the raiders with pure energy. He managed to pick off a few, and just suppressed the rest. Gathering Spare Part, Ballista, and Gunpowder, I laid out a battle plan.

“Gunpowder. Keep launching ‘nades! Spare and Ballista, when Gunpowder shoots, flank the raiders! Shoot ‘em in the back! They’ll be too busy with Tesla and Powder to deal with you.”

They nodded. A resounding explosion cued the pair to gallop to different cover. The next volley of grenades caught an unlucky mare in the torso, pulping her, and showering me with gore. I couldn’t hold back. I hurled. The stench was terrible. Shuddering, I wiped what appeared to be a chunk of kidney from my eye.

Next to Gunpowder, a small formation of stones provided cover. Pulling out my 44. Magnum, I nestled myself in between a rock and a hard place. The scope was not nearly as long range as Judicis. Still, a scope was scope nonetheless. I took a few shots, all but one missing. It merely clipped a mare in the back. Taking the chance of getting killed, I peeked over the rock. Ballista and Spare were now behind the raiders. It would be a slaughter.

Spare readied her pistol that I found in Rock Break’s, and Ballista froze behind her. My heart caught in my throat. A raider wielding a rusty hunting rifle was approaching her, a wild look in his eyes. Ballista’s magic failed, and her revolver dropped. Spare was dealing with the raiders she was flanking and didn’t notice. Ballista was dead. My voice wouldn’t work. The raider tightened his grip on the mouthpiece.

I clenched my eyes. I couldn’t see her die. A distinct shot rang out amongst the chaos, and a familiar voice yelped. Oh no. I leaped over the boulder I was behind. I trucked a mare out of the way, and slipped through the wreckage Spare and Ballista were behind.

Instead of a dead Ballista, I saw a familiar black stallion cradling the apricot unicorn. She was breathing heavily, and bleeding. I was panting. Tesla was crying. A new resolve took over me. Keep them safe. No death. Promised Calamity. I tore the bottle of whiskey I had found from Break Rock’s and tossed it by Tesla. He began to give first aid.

Whipping out my magnum, I threw myself against the wrecked wagon. Gunpowder’s grenade rifle was still shooting, and my revolver sooned joined her. I hit a mare in the chest, blood spurting from the large hole in her torso. She looked down, and back up. She fell, dead.

Two raiders turned around to try and find me, and instead got a grenade courtesy of Powder. Their armor and bodies were disseminated across the dry ground. Only four to go. Galloping from the wreck to a small boulder, I condensed my small frame into the small cone of protection the rock offered. Peering out, I bit the mouth trigger, catching a stallion in his right eye. Dead. The remaining three were stationed by the brutes minigun, firing it off with much less ease than their dead buddy. With Gunpowder bombing them with explosive ordnance, Spare Part and I approached the trio of ruffians, whilst avoiding a scythe of 5mm carnage.

They had no idea we were above them. In a small ditch, the three remaining raiders were trying to pick off Gunpowder, who was still running around somewhere. I looked up and nodded at Spare. She dropped down, pistol whipping one raider and shooting him in the brain. As she looked up, another raider was charging which she deftly sidestepped and plugged with a round.

She wasn’t quick enough to stop the last raider from knocking her down. She flopped on her back as I jumped down and galloped over. The raider was forcing a shiv down onto Spare, but she was resisting. I came up behind the raider and pulled him off. I felt his neck snap.

“Did I do that?” I thought as I stared at my hooves. It was one thing to quickly end a ponies life from half a mile away, but to do it up close and with your own hooves. That was unholy.

“No. Don’t do this to yourself.” I whispered to myself. “It had to be done.”

Spare Part got up and was knocked down as Gunpowder rammed into her, planting a kiss on her lips. I smiled. Spare looked roughed up, but ok. Oh shit. Ballista. I took off back to the wreck where Tesla cradled her. Her breathing was steady. I began to tear up and sniffle. Tesla looked up, his eyes red and puffy.The bottle of whiskey empty by Ballista’s injured leg. He gently lay her down, and I walked over.

“Oh Celestia. I- I’m so sorry. I d-didn’t want anyp- pony to get h- hurt.” I said. I think I just managed a series of blubbering and squeaks.

“I shouldn’t have made you risk yourself like that. I- It was stupid. I’m stupid. I’m so sorry.”

Ballista opened her eyes and smiled at me.

“Don’t be. It was my fault. I’ll be fine.” She rasped. “I need a nap.”

She closed her eyes once more, and I looked back to Tesla. I got up to scavenge whatever the raiders had. Tesla cut me off with a reassuring embrace. I hesitated, but returned it.

“Go into the house, and see what’s up.” He whispered. “I’ll take care of scavenging and Ballista. Spare and Powder will help.”

I nodded, and faced my old house. I took my first steps into a new chapter of my life. I pushed the door open, and stepped inside. I expected a raider shack, with corpses and and blood everywhere. A wave of relief rushed over me when I discovered that the inside of the shack was not tarnished.

And then as soon as it came, it went. Memory upon memory bombarded my already thin emotional shell. It closely resembled what it looked like when I left. A few pictures were moved, and some old furniture thrown out, but it was still home.

“Mom? Dad?” I called out, praying for a reply. “Soot? May Lily? Anypony?”

I shook my head. I should have expected this. It was nice to have something to hope for, though. I trotted around, reminiscing in old memories. I felt a small smile spread across my muzzle. My old home wasn’t that big, but still had more than one room. A kitchen, and two bedrooms. There was an outhouse by the garden.

The kitchen wasn’t looted, much to my surprise. The raiders were probably very recent tenants. I let out a sigh of relief. That open up a few more doors on where my family could be. I made a mental note to loot everything. Scratch that. Salvage. Loot was too harsh a word for this place. I trotted into a bedroom. My old bedroom.

Five beds in total, three on one side of the room, two on the other. They were arranged like a piano, almost. One bed, switch sides, one bed, switch sides, another. Rinse and repeat. I chuckled wistfully. Oh, the times we had. I looked where I used to sleep. The first bed on the left of the room. I think I wanted it from Soot at one point. Probably to get breakfast first.

I came in here for one thing. I walked over to the dresser. We didn’t own any clothes, so we just used it store toys and whatnot. On top of the dresser, though, a small frame containing a picture. My family. I loved this picture. I think it was everypony’s eyes. My family was all blue eyes, not including my father’s cyber eye. It wasn’t a dull blue, it was an icy kind of blue. The blue that stared into your soul.

My mind ran over a list of my family. I hadn’t forgot anypony, I just wanted to remind myself that they had to be out there.

“Red Eye; Dad. Honeydew; Mom. Scoutwing; Brother. Soot; Brother. May Lily; Sister. Homage; Sister.” I whispered, the names of my past stinging me with every syllable.

I opened my saddlebags and placed the photo in. My father said that my mother carried a camera everywhere. He never told me why. I stood for a moment, keeping a short vigil over the empty altar. I turned and exited the room. The only remaining room was my parent’s. I’ve never gone into that room before. Never needed to.

They had an old Stable-Tec terminal in there, though. I remember asking what the box like contraption was as a colt. They told me it was a computer, and being a foal, I had no clue what it was. With my current education, I was fairly certain I knew the machine inside out. Entering the room, I spotted the glowing green screen on a desk to the left of the bed.

Pulling out a small stool from under the desk, I sat down and stretched my wings. I had no clue how complicated this might be, so getting comfortable was in order. I poked a key with my hoof, and the screen awoke from it’s hibernation. As the ancient machine woke from it’s slumber, an orchestra of whirs and beeps played as the computer warmed up.

The screen displayed strings of characters with words thrown in, ranging from adjectives to participles. Nouns were usually the passwords, more specifically names. I squinted and blew my wayward mane from my eyes. I was seriously considering sacrificing a bobby pin to tame my luscious locks. The first column of code held no likely passwords.

I rolled my eyes as soon as I glanced at the second column. I selected “Unity” and pressed enter. My dad must’ve picked the password. As the screen loaded, I checked my Pipbuck’s clock. 3:14 PM. It felt like it had been two days since we left the cave. The screen blinked and I looked up.

A beep sounded, and the screen displayed a screen welcoming me. A large list of files showed up. I guess my parents kept good logs. I read down the list.

Home Sweet Home

Foals?

Food and Water Problems

New Unicorn Filly!

The Goddess

Unity

More foals?!

Raider Issues

A Pegasus Colt?

Another Pegasus Colt!

She. Wants. More. Foals.

A Unicorn Filly!

One more, she says.

Unicorn Colt.

No more foals.

Cutie Marks!

Shooting Lessons?

Enclave

Jury and Scout are gone.

Leaving

I stopped. Selecting the file, I downloaded it onto my Pipbuck. Damn, this thing had a lot of space. It only took a minute or two to finish, and when it did I played it. A gruff voice spoke, not unlike my father, but older.

“I hoped something like this would never have to happen. With Scout and Jury gone, scavenging has gotten difficult. The garden isn’t enough to feed this family. I know what I have to do, but I don’t like it. The Goddess promises everypony will be saved, but I’m not so sure.”

“She says to follow her advice. What choice do I have? I can’t do this anymore. She wants me to scatter my family! ‘It is the will of Unity!’ I must do what she asks. But- Agh, fuck! Soot is only a child! He doesn’t even have his cutie mark yet! I just don’t know what went wrong...”

“I must follow the will of the Goddess. I know what I’ll do. Vault 87. It’s in Hornsmith. They’d take Soot in, hopefully. It’ll cost me, though. Homage? She... She can go to Tenpony. She’s smart, and her ancestry might get her in. May Lily... Friendship City. Yes, that would work. And Honeydew... Oh Celestia. I’ll take her with me to Fillydelphia.”

“Honeydew is my wife. I won’t let her fall victim to the wastes. Not after Bleak Ear. It’s settled then. I’ll plan a route for each of us, and by Unity’s blessing, hope that nopony gets hurt. And on the off chance that Scout or Jury return... Well, they’re smart. I- I’m going to go to sleep.”

The recording ends. I grit my teeth. Did he really do what he said he did? Did he give up an easy and happy life, for a Luna damned cult? My anger swelled. I swung around and bucked a cabinet. It barely shook. Fuck my puny legs. Opening my eyes, a mass of purple hair clouded my vision.

Ok, Spare, you win. Reluctantly drawing a pin from the cardboard box, I tucked a bit of my mane behind my ear with the pin. It was better than having to blow hair from my eyes every damn minute. It was time to face the outside once again. I trotted out the door, but not before hitting my kitchen for some food. Any vegetables were completely rancid. I guess my family was gone for awhile. I did find an unopened Sparkle-Cola. Yum.

I trotted outside. I squinted as my eyes got used to the light. It was actually pretty dark in the house. A breeze flowed through my now tamed mane, and I scanned the area for my friends. A rust colored mane poked out from behind a wrecked wagon. I smiled and took flight. I could have trotted, but feeling wind beneath your feathers is spectacular.

I landed with a minor thump next to a ragtag group of ponies. Ballista looked better. She was safely napping in the embrace of Tesla, who also had fallen asleep.

“How’s she doin’?” I whispered to Spare Part.

“She’s fine. A little spooked, though.” She replied.

“Those two should really get together.” I told her.

She chuckled and nodded.

I trotted over to Gunpowder, who was staring at the sky.

“You ok, hon?” I asked her. “I hope that fight didn’t get to you.”

“Oh no, Jury. Just thinkin’ is all. Y’know, I never knew what to expect! I kept my chin up and things turned out right so far. I really think this is for the best. We could actually make a name for ourselves! With explosives, if we wanted! Spare and I might have a future here.” She replied, with a gleam in her eye.

I gave her a quick hug and trotted back over to Ballista. Emptying some water bottles I got back in the house, I cracked one open and drank. Tick tick tick. Sounded like a geiger meter. It was my Pipbuck’s. It was barely moving, so I shrugged and drank more. We’d get some Radaway soon. Ballista rustled in her sleep, waking up Tesla. He groggily blinked at me.

Reaching into my pack, I pulled out the crowned king of refreshment in the wastes. A warm Sparkle-Cola. I rolled the bottle over, and he inspected it with a look of hesitation. Slowly, he popped the cap off, and took a small sip. His eyes widened in delight, and I grinned a victorious smile. I took a few gulps, stopped mid-swallow and looked at the apricot mare who rested upon him.

He nuzzled her until she awoke. He chuckled as the short orange mane on Ballista’s head turned up incredibly frizzy. She looked upwards and scrunched her nose. She fixed her mane, and then winced when she tried to move. She looked down her flank, a bloody bandaged mess. Tesla brought her chin up with his hoof and nodded towards the bottle of cola.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Go on. Try it.” He said, a smile plastered on his muzzle.

She raised an eyebrow, but brought the glass bottle to her lips. As the amber liquid dispersed on her cracked lips, rejuvenating the flesh, she began to grin. She slugged the entire bottle down in ten seconds flat.

“This is amazing.” She said, after gasping for breath.

I smiled. She and my friends had much to learn about the wastes. It was bad out here, but the flame of humanity was still glowing.

“When do you think you’ll be able to move again?” I asked her.

“Probably within a day or two. We have Med-X from the raiders if need be.” Tesla answered for her.

“Was your family in there?”

“No. They left and were scattered. I know where they could be, though.” I replied.

“Well, we’ll help you find them. We don’t have anything down here, and the best thing that can be done right now is find something to do.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Tes. First we’re gonna find a town where you, Ballista, Spare, and Powder can stay. Start over. This is my job to do.”

“If that’s what you want.”

I turned away and sighed. As much as I didn’t like going alone, I knew I had to. I couldn’t put them at risk. I’d find my family and return to the Badlands with them. Then I’d find a place to settle. It was a loose plan, but a plan altogether. My plans had worked so far, and I hoped this would be the same.

I took off from the ground and flew up to Anchor Cliffs. I looked into the distance, and even through the cloud clover, I could see the sun spreading its light. I wondered what Borealis was doing. Probably sitting at his desk, scowling. I checked my Pipbuck clock. 5:53 PM. Day one of the wasteland was almost done.

I flew back down to my companions, my hooves clicking on the arid ground.

“They know the plan, and they agree.” Tesla said.

I nodded.

“It’s getting late, everypony. There’s more than enough beds in the house.” I deadpanned.

We all slowly walked towards the shelter. Tesla was carrying Ballista who still hurt too much to walk. Once we entered, my companions began to look around. I suppose it was more welcoming than Loft Cave. A few ponies retired to my old bedroom, Ballista and Tesla included.

“Why don’t you and Ballista take the other room? She could use the bedspace for her leg.” I insisted, smirking at Tesla.

Everypony flopped on their respective beds. I did the same, albeit slightly less floppily. Grace is essential. All of us wallowed on our mattresses for a bit, savoring the softness. I rolled over onto my hooves, planting them on the dirty floor. I was incredibly hungry.

I trotted into the kitchen area, checking my Pipbuck’s clock. 6:15. Dinner time. I allowed myself the luxury of more than a hiking lunch. I pulled out a box of Sugar Apple Bombs. I looked at the box, and then one of the mess kits that Calamity had left us. Shrugging, I shoved my muzzle into the box and wolfed the entire box down.

“I have never tasted sweeter ambrosia such as this in all my life.” I moaned.

Spare Part and Gunpowder walked in and sat at the round table I was at. They pulled out some MREs and I quickly intervened.

“Oh no, this will not do. When in the wastes, it is customary to eat the cuisine of it’s people. Sugar Apple Bombs and creamed corn for you!” I exclaimed, appalled at their choice of food.

I whipped out a can of corn and box of Apple Bombs, and slid them over the table.

“Bon Appetit!” I say, in a foreign sounding accent.

They began to eat, consumption increasing as they realized how hungry they were. Some time later, Gunpowder piped up.

“Hey... Notice how Ballista and Tesla have not emerged from their room in quite some time!”

I raised an eyebrow, and so did Spare. A roaring laughter broke out, and tears began streaming from our eyes.

“Oh- Oh my!” I managed to croak, my lungs struggling for breath. I think my sides were in another dimension.

The laughter died down, and I checked the time. 7:00. I looked up at the couple across from me.

“It’s bedtime.” I said, yawning as I spoke.

They nodded and we retired to the small room in which we were to slumber in. I looked at the first bed on the left fondly, and prepared to fall with style upon to it. Just a hop, skip, and a jump away. I hit the mattress with a soft thud, shucked my armor. I left my jacket on. It was more for sentimentality rather than comfort.

As I closed my eyes, I skimmed over memories of the day. Rock Break’s, Anchor Cliffs, the fight, Ballista getting shot, finding out the fate of my companions. It was a good start for a plan formed as it happened. I stopped on that thought, and shut down my mind. Sleep now. I swear that as I slipped into the warm embrace of sleep, I could hear a certain apricot mare moaning a certain energy weapon expert’s name.

Perk Gained: A Good Night’s Rest - Sleeping in your old bed has given you a wonderful sleep! +1 to Perception from 6 AM to 12 PM.