Chapter 1 - Broken Chips and Magical Slips
Were the quill which was furiously being scrawled across a piece of parchment to move any faster, Spike was sure that both the paper and the desk on which it rested would catch fire.
"I'm a genius! I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" exclaimed a lavender-coated alicorn. An aura of matching color surrounded the quill which was moving at presumably mach speeds. Twilight held her head high, not even bothering to look at what she was writing, so sure she was that it was correct.
"Uh, Twilight?" asked Spike, staring at the parchment Twilight's levitating quill was still abusing with a furrowed brow.
"The potential is virtually unlimited! Discord's raw, unrefined and yet excessively powerful, not to mention plentiful—"
"Twilight?"
"—chaotic magic, completely in opposition to standard unicorn magical applications of carefully constructed spell matrices in which a large amount of energy is used and mental strain is placed on the caster—"
"Twi," Spike stated as he tugged on his dear friend's wing.
"—could completely change the way we use magic! If I could somehow—"
"Twilight!" Spike gave a harsh tug on the pony in question's wing, twin streams of smoke bellowing from his flared nostrils.
"Ouch!" yelped Twilight as she ceased her writing, bringing the appendage to her face and rubbing it gently, adjusting any stray feathers with her magic. "Please, be gentle, Spike. I still don't know how to use these things very well, and I doubt I'd fly any better if you sprain one of them trying to get my attention. In any case, can't you see that I'm busy? I'm working on something that could alter the future of magical sciences as we know it!"
"Twilight, your quill ran out of ink about ten minutes ago," the dragon deadpanned.
"What?" Looking to the excessively long roll of parchment she had been writing on, she did indeed notice that her quill had entirely failed to mark down anything of note for at least several feet of the scroll.
"...oh," she at last stated, prompting Spike to smack a claw to his forehead.
"It's OK." Twilight shook her head, reviewing what she did manage to write down. "I remember most of it, and whatever I don't explicitly recall should come back to me exactly as it was once I start working on the parts that come before them." Dipping the quill into an ink well (after a quick double-check to ensure it was not a prank bottle of invisible ink), the alicorn once more returned to her rapid quill strokes.
"Whatever you say. " Spike shrugged as a harsh growling sounded from his gut. He rubbed his empty stomach. "Hey Twilight, I'm going down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Do you want me to bring you anything?"
"A daffodil sandwich would be lovely."
Spike shook his head. "You're a princess, with your own personal army of chefs, and you still eat food you could have gotten anywhere in Ponyville?"
Not turning away from her work, a small smile played across Twilight's face. "What can I say? It reminds me of home."
"Well I'm getting me something tasty, with lots and lots of gems," he replied with a lick of his lips as he left the room, the soft rasping of a quill on parchment being replaced by the quiet echos of the Canterlot Castle halls.
________
With a bowl of variously colored gem scraps balanced on his head, a glass of water in one hand and a plate with a daffodil sandwich in the other, Spike walked cautiously back into Twilight's room, teetering this way or that in an attempt to keep the bowl and its contents from spilling. With a sigh of relief, he set the plate and glass on the desk next to Twilight, who was reviewing what she had written with an occasional scribble of her quill on the parchment.
"Thank you, Spike," Twilight said without looking away from her work, taking a bite of the sandwich and a long sip of water.
"So, how's your whatchamacallit coming along?" Spike asked, his voice muffled by a mouthful of gems.
With a final punctuation mark written, Twilight set the quill down and once more read the scroll through, not noticing Spike's question. Taking another sip of water, she nodded. She was absolutely sure this would work. There was no way anything could possibly go wrong.
"Spike, take a letter," Twilight said. Almost instinctively, Spike grabbed the nearest available blank parchment and quill, ready to copy whatever Twilight said.
"Dear Discord," Twilight began.
"Discord?"
"Yes, Spike. I'm going to need his help with this," Twilight said.
Spike shrugged and readied the quill and parchment once again. Twilight took that as her cue to continue.
"Dear Discord, I, Twilight Sparkle, as both a princess of Equestria and, more importantly, your friend, formally request your assistance. I have constructed a number of theories and spell matrices which require your chaotic powers in order to function properly; ones which, if they work as I believe, could be of benefit to the entirety of ponykind. I won't bore you with the details, but these experiments cannot function without your help. Though I don't have much to offer in way of returning the favor that the avatar of chaos himself can't procure of his own accord, I can tell you that this is an opportunity to work your chaotic magic in a way that you have been unable to do since before your reformation.
"Not to mention you'd be helping out a friend.
"I await your response. Sincerely, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Got all that, Spike?"
"And... done," Spike said, rolling up the scroll.
"Thank you. Now send it, please."
Spike inhaled deeply before blowing a plume of green flame on the letter, the ashes speeding their way out of the room and through the castle halls.
"And now we wait," Twilight said as she began to return her writing materials to their proper places.
"Wait for wha—" Spike started, before the claw of an eagle and paw of a lion emerged from his mouth, holding his jaws open and preventing him from finishing his sentence.
"Did somebody call me?" asked a voice emanating from Spike's mouth which was not his own.
Spike crossed his arms and attempted to speak, managing only incomprehensible nonsense.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" asked the voice from Spike's mouth with a snicker.
"Funny," Twilight said with a roll of her eyes, lighting her horn and pulling Discord in his entirety out of Spike's mouth.
"You ever do that again, I'm biting you," Spike said to Discord.
"Well excuse me, but I didn't particularly enjoy the trip myself. It's not exactly roomy in there. I was stuck in third class, with an annoying little foal kicking the back of my seat the entire trip. And the service was simply awful!" Discord shouted, raising his arms.
Spike snorted.
"Oh, fine. I'll pay for my ticket. But I expect some bonus miles added to my frequent flyer's card for the terrible trip!" Discord said as he snapped his fingers, a large diamond appearing in the empty bowl at Spike's feet. Spike nodded his thanks, biting into the large gem without hesitation.
"And now, oh great Princess Sparkle, how can a humble little draconequus such as myself ever be of assistance to your royal highness?" Discord asked, bowing before Twilight in an exaggerated manner.
"Can the garbage, Discord. I just need your help with a little magical experiment I'd like to try. I'd like you to feed your chaotic magic through my horn. If my theory is correct — and I don't see how it couldn't be — if I merge my magic with yours, the output will be at least ten times greater than anything either of us could accomplish individually."
"You want me to fill you with unrefined chaos magic? Are you mad?" Discord shouted. "The only reason I can survive such a thing is because I am practically immortal. I am a harbinger of the very chaos I create!"
"You're forgetting that I am a princess now." Twilight flourished her wings. "That comes with more benefits than just a room in the castle and a pair of wings, you know."
Discord paused before he could continue to rant further, pondering Twilight's response. Finally, he conceded, "Alright, fair enough. But don't expect me to glue you back together when you explode twice."
"B-b-but I thought we already agreed a while ago that exploding twice wasn't possible?" Spike added with concern.
"Ah, but chaos is a fickle mistress, my little friend," Discord said, patting Spike on the head. "Nevertheless, she is right. She should be fine. Probably."
"I don't like the sound of that..." Spike trailed off.
"Relax Spike, I'll be fine. I've checked my work," Twilight reassured. "OK Discord, you can start. I'll process your magic, merge it with mine, and if this works out accordingly I should be able to perform magic with at least a one thousand percent increase in energy and magical efficiency."
"How are you going to test it?" Discord asked.
"By using one of Starswirl the Bearded's simpler trans-dimensional probability viewing spells."
"...what?" asked a very confused Spike. Twilight sighed. "I'm going to open a 'hole' through which we can view another universe."
"A 'simple' universe-bending, reality shattering spell, said the prodigy child whose special talent is magic and who was student to the most magically talented pony in Equestria turned alicorn," Discord remarked.
"Be quiet and hit me with your magic already," Twilight said hastily but not without humor, excited to start the experiment. She readied her stance.
Both Twilight and Discord closed their eyes, concentrating on the task at hand while Spike stood back, eyes as large as dinner plates, fearing the outcome.
The air between Twilight and Discord began to shimmer like the horizon on a hot summer's day. Before long, a sound of ripping fabric could be heard, and a transparent floating image of a vast, seemingly endless desert appeared in the shimmering air.
"Alright Discord, that should do it," Twilight said, opening her eyes and examining the image as her horn continued to glow.
Sighing, Discord cut the flow of his magic, opening his eyes and falling backwards onto a couch he had willed into existence. "Interesting, I suppose, but all in all quite boring," He yawned as he stared at the unmoving ghostly image of the desert.
"Where is that?" Spike asked.
"Nowhere in this universe," Twilight said as her horn grew brighter. She circled the image, but no matter where and from what angle she viewed it the picture appeared the same. Bringing her hoof forwards, Twilight tentatively touched the ghostly visual. The moment she did, her horn erupted in a blinding glow as an explosion sounded, knocking various books and other items off of shelves and tables. Discord and Spike heard her scream for a split second before it was abruptly cut short.
As the light faded and vision returned to the two, they examined the scorch mark left on the stone floor where both Twilight and the image of the desert now stood absent.
"Well, that was unexpected," Discord said.
________
The fluorescent lights buzzed incessantly in the metallic corridor, their endless hum calming the man's fraying nerves. The symmetrical walls repeated seemingly endlessly. Looking up, the man sighed. The ceiling; a solid concrete and stone barrier separating the ruined world above from the safe heaven below within the Earth's very skin. Just what was a place without a ceiling? Sure, he had read about the outside world. "Sky," "sun," "moon," "stars." These were all words he knew, with pictures he could mentally associate them with, but he didn't have anything he could personally relate to them. The sky was blue due to refractions of light in the atmosphere, the sun was a large flaming ball of gases located millions of miles away, stars were of the same composition only even further, and the moon was just a giant rock held above the planet by the force of gravity.
All that and more was simple common knowledge; one of the first things the education system in the Vault taught children. Pointless, really, since less than one percent of the Vault's population would ever directly relate to or even see such things, but it was taught nevertheless. He looked up again.
The ceiling remained unchanged.
The sky had clouds; evaporated patches of water, waiting to distribute their life-giving lifeblood to the land below. They moved about in winds felt only at extreme altitudes, making the vast canvas of the sky seem alive.
The ceiling, on the other hand, had light bulbs.
Water. Water was important. Generally, things needed it to live. The Vault had water, and this was good. The Vault's water purifier chip, though, was broken. If the purifier chip was broken, no new water could be introduced into the system without contaminating their supply. Water, for the first time in the Vault's life, was limited. This was bad. He looked up again.
The ceiling was still there.
He reached upwards, stretching his arm to the limit, brushing the tips of his fingers against the rough concrete. Retracting his arm, he examined his fingers. The ceiling. The ceiling was a solid object, a shield protecting him and the other denizens of the Vault. He could, and just did, reach out and touch it. Unmoving, unrelenting, it stood still.
What was a world without a ceiling?
He was not supposed to know about the situation with the water chip. He had overheard a conversation the Overseer was having with one of the maintenance crew members, and he heard everything. He didn't say anything; if the Overseer wanted people to know, he would have told them himself.
At last, he reached the end of the corridor. At the end, by a door which had been closed once and never opened again, the Vault's Overseer, Jacoren, stood waiting. He was their leader. He was the driving force of the Vault. He was the chieftain of their tribe, the president of the country of Vault 13. His word was final.
Jacoren's gray hair and beard stood out on his wrinkled, pale face. Everyone in the Vault was pale; the sun was a thing of the past, in the sky, the ceiling of the entire planet.
Nash tilted his black-haired head upwards to stare once more at the ceiling before returning his focus back to Jacoren. Resting on the floor next to the Overseer was a bag, odd little protrusions poking their way through the material. The bag was clearly stuffed to its limit.
The Overseer smoothed his blue Vault jumpsuit out as Nash approached. Nash could only begin to guess why the Overseer had called him, before his eyes darted to the bag, to the door behind the Overseer, then back to the Overseer himself. Nash realized why he had been called here.
The Overseer knew Nash had heard about the purifier chip being broken. He was being exiled from the Vault. It was the only possible solution.
Nash couldn't decide if he was happy or not about that. Of course, he'd always wanted to see the world. The sky. Moon. Sun. But this was his home, one he had been in since birth. If he was exiled, he would never be allowed to return to here, to his family and friends.
The Overseer's blue eyes met Nash's green ones. "Odd place for a meeting, if I may say," Nash said. "But you wanted to see me?"
The Overseer heaved a sigh, starting his explanation, "We've got a problem. A big one. The controller chip for our water purification system has given up the ghost. We can't make another one, and the process is too complicated for a work-around system. Simply put, we're running out of drinking water. No water, no Vault."
Nash tilted his head in confusion. If Jacoren was explaining this to him, then the Overseer didn't know that Nash already knew, which meant he probably wasn't being exiled. That still didn't explain their unorthodox meeting by the Vault's only, and sealed, entrance to the outside world, or the bag beside the Overseer.
Taking Nash's silence as a cue to continue, the Overseer said, "Now we both know we've had our differences as you've grown up. You've got the wanderlust in you — desires for things the Vault just can't satisfy. And you know, I think this just might be the last safe place anywhere, so I'm always worried about those who want to take off on adventures. Hey, if everyone left, I'd be out of a job!" the Overseer chuckled dryly.
Shaking his head, his voice returned to a more serious tone as he continued, "But, in all honesty, this is crucial to our survival. And frankly, I think you're the only hope we have. You need to go find us another controller chip."
Nash stood still. This was quite a shock. Him, a simple peacekeeper in the Vault, was being tasked with a job this vital to the Vault's survival. He was both honored and frightened.
"We estimate that we have four to five months' worth of drinking water remaining. We need that chip," the Overseer said gravely.
"Why me, sir? Why send me? What have I got that others in the Vault don't have?" Nash asked, finally speaking up.
"I've seen you down in the shooting range. You're the best shot in the Vault. We're not sure what's out there, but if it's dangerous, I'd rather send someone who stands a chance at fighting back." Kneeling down, the Overseer dug through the bag on the floor, removing a ten millimeter pistol in a holster and handing it to Nash, who took it tentatively.
"We've taken the liberty of packing some equipment you'll probably need. Food, water, stimpaks and other basic items. Just as well, we've marked the map on your Pip-Boy with the location of another Vault. Not a bad place to start." Heaving yet another sigh, Jacoren went on, "If we didn't have to do this, I'd never ask. And if you don't do this, I don't know who else can. Please, help us."
Nash was once again silent.
"If you need help, come back here. Obviously, we'll do whatever we can. But we don't have a lot of time. Please, find that chip, and get back here," Jacoren concluded.
"I... I understand, sir. I will do everything in my power to help the Vault. I may want to see the world, but this is my home, and I'd never abandon it."
The Overseer smiled, holding out his hand. Nash took it, and they shook. "I knew we could count on you. Look... just be safe, OK?" The Overseer handed Nash the bag, which he shouldered. After strapping the holster to his belt, Nash placed the pistol in it, adjusting it until it was in a comfortable position and easily within reach.
Walking forward with his gear in tow, the rectangular metal doors with the "13" etched into them slid into opposite ends of the wall, revealing an antechamber with a grated floor.
"Nash!" Jacoren called out. Turning around, Nash met eyes one last time with the Overseer, who said with a nod, "Good luck."
Nash nodded back, and the doors sealed shut. Walking towards the center of the antechamber, he faced the gear-shaped metal door. The two tons of metal were all that separated him from the outside world.
A hissing filled the room, and a metallic hand reached forwards, grasping the door and rolling it to the side with a screech of metal on metal. When the door was finally opened, Nash walked forwards, a hot blast of air rushing past him.
What he saw at first was entirely unimpressive. A cave of dark stone, the occasional drop of water falling from stalactites on the ceiling. Nash looked up. A cave, a ceiling. He wasn't quite outside yet.
Nash crossed the threshold of the Vault door, which was once more grasped by the hand and sealed closed again, locking him out. Looking back for the last time, Nash met eyes with the camera above the Vault door, which was focused on him. With a smile that spoke of confidence leagues more impressive than what he actually felt, he gave a mock salute before walking into the darkness of the cave.
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*Spontaneous dramatic dimensional fissure occurs and a figure in a black trench coat with a gas mask and assault rifle steps out* Screw saving humanity, the premise alone is awesome enough for me to be intrigued, but boo to alicorn twilight.
Ooooo a Fallout 1 crossover.
This makes me want to find a Let's Play of the first Fallout. I shall do so, post hast!
2861549
Sorry, but what can I say? I've grown fond of Twilicorn. Though I did consider using normal Twilight, I felt the alicorn bit opened more possibilities later down the line.
2861744 Be warned, aliens are ahead, that is if he gets the random encounter. But be cautioned, in my experience playing the Vault Dweller, he/she is nine times as powerful as a Wanderer or Courier could ever hope to be. It also helps that I carried a high calibre minigun and a fuckton of ammo along with the most advanced in power armors, and that was by level 20.
2861762
Turbo plasma rifle in hardened power armor, 10 AP and fast shot.
You might as well be the Grim Reaper in power armor. Nothing remains but ashes.
AND IT IS GLORIOUS
2861778 200% big guns skill with depleted uranium rounds, your power armor is toast. Plus I have advanced power armor, mark 2.
EDIT: Wait, I think the advanced power armors are in Fallout 2, my bad.
2861794
To be honest, I've never actually done a Big Guns run of Fallout 1 or 2. Always felt like too long of a gap between leaving the Vault and actually getting a big gun for the skill to be of any use. By that time you could have trained your Small Guns skill to 200 already.
I'm actually doing a new playthrough now with a 10 luck character. With a rifle and Small Guns skill over 100 at level 4, target shooting people in the eyes leads to ridiculous amounts of damage.
I one-shot Garl, the leader of the Khans, for 64 damage.
2861814 I had a terrifying first encounter after the vault that left me with a Browning M2 and around five hundred .50 cal rounds. And a Gauss Minigun, but no ammo. Do you know if the YK42B Is in Fallout? Also,
My dog is wet and just rolled around on my CLEAN bed.
i like it...mostly ive play fallout one a bit and seeing as the dweller didnt have a personaly in my opion this gives the writer to go crazy with his persona...awesome job.
ASSUMING CONTROL OF THIS FORM