“In the wasteland. Friendships are unstable, allies are enemies and the wastes themselves are more likely take a life than those that inhabit it. No matter how hard anyone tries, it will forever remain like this, for centuries it has, and for centuries it will. Unless there are those willing to fight for a better future. If not, we all might as well lay down and die.”

For years, the once beautiful land of Equestria has been nothing more than a dead, diseased country filled with the remnants of of pony kind. With the pegasai fleeing to the clouds above to leave the unicorns and earthpony below, Time has gone past both slowly and painfully for all still stuck on the ground. If taint, radiation, raiders and ghouls weren't enough. Every so often something new, something terrifying reveals itself to the world only to bring suffering to all that it encounters.

For some, life has been made simple, livable and at times, even enjoyable. But for an out of place pegasus and a pony who looks more like a science experiment gone wrong than a pony. How well can things really go? Dodge Junction for years has been their home, their safe haven from the desolate wasteland. Away from the monsters that lurk beneath the surface and oblivious to anything that does not concern them. And when pulled in, how can they then save themselves?

Bright yellow light pierced the tin walls of the small weather-worn shack and bathed the dusty floor in dots of light. It was nothing much to look at, a few bent shelves sat against the walls, a battered locker tilting to the side and a dirty sheet less mattress pushed into the furthest corner of the single room hut. Curled up in a fetal position in the centre of the stain infested bedding was a single mare. Her coat was a light khaki brown and her messy mane a muddy brown. Multiple thin scars covered her feminine frame and a ragged breathing had her chest heaving, almost gasping for air. Though what may has stood out the most were the small pair of metal joints which sat in either side of her where a pegasus’ might have wings.

As one of the lights beams shifted to shine directly into her eye, causing her to groan in protest. She made the move to slide a hoof up from her stomach to brush against her muzzle but as her eye began to heat up from the constant exposure, the khaki mare rolled off the mattress and onto the metal floor.

“Can’t even get some damn sleep…” She mumbled, giving her left shoulder a quick brush. Her mane was a mess, tail not fairing any better but the mare being unbothered by either trotted firstly over to the shelf closest to the door. Mostly bare, all it held was a bottle of dirty water and an empty box of Sugar Apple Bombs. She gave the box a push and picked the water up in her hoof, twisting off the cap and gulping down a third of the water, grimacing as the sickening liquid travelled down her throat.

“Hey! Sandstorm!” A heavy hoof clanged against the door, making it shake. The brown mare, Sandstorm, winced at the mention of her name and placed the water back in its place on the shelf. Ever since she had gotten the small picture of a desert tornado on her flank, ponies had called her Sandstorm and seeing as she could no longer remember her real name she soon went along with it. Though the thought of it all was not a happy memory and the two metal nubs on her back were a constant and painful reminder.

“SHUT IT, SAVAGE!” Sandstorm growled in response only to get a chuckled reply.

“Fine… Sandy” Her eye twitched, being called Sandstorm had annoyed her for some time but still stood as her name. Sandy, made her get a little trigger happy and NOT in a good way.

“Right… Right…. RIGHT!” Stomping her hoof down hard against the floor and snorting like a bull about to charge, Sandstorm glared at the door before turning around and bucking it full strength in the centre, right where two deep dents had already been hammered in. Although the flimsy door came flying off, the metal snap of the hinges screeching into the air. The door stopped only a few feet from the intended target who soon began to laugh, the door lifting over his head to reveal a pale coated stallion. While he had no mane, a long, thick and black tail swayed out from his blank flanked rump. Layers of blood soaked bandages covered his eyes but the nightmare inducing smile was still visible. Holding up the door were a set of four black tendrils, each one with a large suction cup hidden inside the tip.

“Done showing off?” Sandstorm asked, tapping a hoof impatiently against the ground.

“Maybe, done kicking doors?”

“Next it will be your face.” The mare smirked as the stallion frowned.

“Why always the face?”

“Would you rather I rip those tentacles out of your back?”

“… I choose option three, give me a kiss and I will forget the whole thing.” Savage placed the door down on the ground by his side as Sandstorm snorted.

“In your dreams pale face… In your dreams.”

“See you when I fall asleep.” The stallion’s frown gave way for a smile.

“Ugh…” Sandstorm hung her head as Savage tucked the four extra appendages down against his back in a way it made them look like a saddle before clearing his throat and moving on to a more serious tone of voice.

“We are on rotation. Widget, Green Hills and Tetanus are going on a supply run and need us to provide cover as usual. Raiders are getting closer to the walls.”

“Widget?” Sandstorm groaned. “Last time we got stuck with him the damn mare got her head stuck in a metal box trying to reach the barrel of a beam pistol.” Despite having no eyes, Savage managed to give the scarred mare a grim look.

“I know I know but she is still the best mechanic we have and she knows where to look for the best junk. And I know you dislike Tetanus but…” He was cut off by an unamused snort.

“Yeah yeah best medic in all of Dodge” Sandstorm snarked, the two metal stubs in her sides wriggling up and down as if she was trying to flap imaginary wings. Savage smiled apologetically.

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least I get to have my waifu to help me ignore their complaining when you come back smelling, as usual.” Savage teased.

“I swear to Celestia…” Sandstorm huffed but held back from insulting the blind stallion and instead trotted out from her humid shack and into the open.

Dodge Junction. Or what was left of it. The old town was never a high target in the war and over the years it has remained a small haven for traveling traders, nomads and even the occasional runaway slave. If there was ever any trouble here, it was quickly dealt with to avoid drawing attention. Most of the old stores, barns and otherwise original buildings had been reinforced with concrete pillars or steel plates to keep them standing but to add to an ever growing town, small shacks like Sandstorms were now a common thing. The biggest change to Dodge Junction was the 15 foot tall wall which boxed in the down and left only two ways in or out. The main entrance guarded by a spiked metal gate to discourage raids. The wall might have been tall but being made from rusted metal, rotting wood and anything else they could weld together, it was far from being the best line of defence.
Sandstorm looked up to the yellow light she had built her shack underneath and grumbled, blaming the ponies in charge of the electrical grid rather than herself for building her home there in the first place. Interrupting her internal pissed off behaviour, Savage placed a hoof on her right flank and sighed.

“Go get geared up. I heard Point Blank wanted to give you a special surprise after the last batch of goodies you gave him.” Even with the stallion touching her rump, Sandstorm let go of a small smile. Point Blank was one of her very few friends and like herself was also missing bits. That and he had a love for any weapon that made a large mess, just like her.

“Alright. I will meet you by the front gate when I am ready to go.”

“Don't be late.” He replied in a half playful, half serious tone.
Patting her flank lightly, the stallion left to follow the main road into the centre of town while Sandstorm took off into a happy jog along the side road and in the direction of Point Blank’s store.

‘Point Blank’s Ordinance’ had been painted in large red words on what could have been mistaken for an old saloon but inside the swinging double doors were enough to make Sandstorm grin. Being a town of scavengers, traders and small enough to not get too much attention made Dodge Junction a place full of hidden treasures to the right (or wealthiest) buyer. From 10mm pistols right up to battle saddles designed for those who can carry the weight of a missile launcher was a large assortment of deadly weapons and of course, the stores security, a Mark V laser turret which soon whirred around to target her head as Sandstorm practically bounced into the store.

At the far end of the room came the hearty laugh of a war torn stallion, he lacked one eye and the right side of his face looked as if it had been sanded down to the bone while his pickle green coat was filled with too many bites, scars and burns to even count. It was a miracle that any of his short forest green mane had survived along with the rest of him.

“Stormy! Just the mare I was looking for!” he teased, with a childish grin and a wave of his hoof. Determining that for now that the energetic mare was not a threat, the ceiling mounted turret beeped and took its barrel off of the mare. Sandstorm gazed down at the weapons just behind recently cleaned glass and placed both hooves against the casing with a deep sigh, eyeing off the rows of shotguns both refurbished and in need of repair.

“Someday… I will buy you…” Raising an eye at Sand’s odd behaviour, Point Blank took a step back as her gaze went from the shotguns to him, or what he thought to be him but was really Sandstorm staring dreamily at the wall mounted missile launcher just above his head.

“Err… Right. Down to business.” Point Blank coughed, Sandstorm blinking once and blushing a light red in embarrassment.

“Y-yeah, Savage said you had something for me?” Taking a step back from the glass counter, Sandstorm looked hopefully around the store as green stallion nodded in confirmation.

“I heard your next few scavenges are going to be on caravans hit while transporting goods on the way to Dodge, meaning if the raiders who hit them have left most of the supplies behind like usual and only taken the dead bodies…” looking a little more green in the face than usual, He shivered. “Then anything like spare parts and medical supplies should have been left behind.”

“And if we are lucky, maybe weapons.” The khaki mare added hopefully.

“And weapons if we are lucky. But till then I have a few toys for you that will be helpful in wide open areas with not too much cover.” Point Blank reached down, underneath the counter to where Sandstorm could not currently see and lifted out a simple leather saddle which had attached to either side two identical guns.

“Five point fifty six millimetre rounds, clip. Each will hold twenty four rounds. Each side is fired with the same trigger and will both fire one after the other, saves ammo that way.” By now, Sandstorm’s eyes were already gleaming with delight as she stared at the gun but Point Blank laughed.

“Now the fun part, to make reloading a little easier, the guns will be tilted up and pushed forwards, enabling you to hit in the next clips while still keeping an eye on your targets.”

“How much?” Was all the deformed Pegasus could ask without just snatching up the saddle. Point blank took a moment to scratch at the bone showing on his face before looking back down at his handiwork.

“Three hundred caps of your next payment and it’s all yours. Of course ammo is included. Eight clips between the two plus what they already have loaded, makes ten. That should see you through your first find. Though if I were you I would grab a few of those toys you keep for rainy days. Just in case.” Sandstorm winced from the price, it was fair for what it was and he had probably given her some sort of discount but her ‘salary’ was all dependant on what the group was able to find and sell.

“Open to trading in any weapons I find?” The Pegasus mare asked, remembering that her protective barding could also use a few repair so caps would need to be handled carefully.

“Always am as long as they work.”

“Deal.” Extending their hooves over the counter, both ponies shook on the agreement. Sandstorm being eager to get herself suited up, swiped the saddle off of the counter and with slight difficulty managed to wriggle her way into the numerous straps that held the weapons in place. While it added a little extra weight, she found it easy enough to carry and with very minimal restriction to her movements, even with the metal bar running up beside her neck to hold the trigger to her muzzle. She bid Point Blank a farewell and trotted back out onto the street with her new prize.

“You sure this thing won't just blow up in our face? Feels like a death trap.” Waiting at the front gate for Sandstorm, Savage had gotten together the rest of the ground while studying their mode of transport. Instead of a Brahmin or pony pulled caravan, Widget had spent the last few months building what most would call a metal monster in her garage. The bottom frame had been stripped from a horse drawn cart, reinforced with metal bars to heighten its strength. The sides had also been removed and in their places were rusted iron plates just high enough to protect all but the head of a pony unless they ducked, having smaller squares cut out of the centre to stick a gun through. The wooden wheels had been completely torn off and replaced with plated versions to avoid them caving in from pressure.

“Stop worrying, you don’t even have much of a face left.” The voice of a young sounding mare came from the front of the modified wagon, her head under a welded together engine casing. All that stuck out was her ash grey tush and cyan blue tail, a hammer and spanner cutie mark on each flank. As she wiggled her flank from side to side, leaning further down into her work, Savage withdrew his tendrils and sighed.

“Ah hah hah… What about Sandstorm, Tetanus and Treasure?” If he had eyes, one of them would have been raised in question. Backing out of the motor, Widget peeked out to the side. Her face was covered in grease and a spanner caught in between her teeth but with a small horn and deep, sky blue eyes, she still looked cute enough for ponies to misjudge her experience. The thin barding she wore looked specifically suited to hold her tools and nothing more.

“Well, Tetanus is already dead, Sandy has a bunch of scars anyway and you can sit in front of Treasure to protect her.” The tool muffled her words but enough had been said to earn a grumble from the pale stallion.

“If we were to go down in a flaming wreckage and live, Treasure would probably crawl around gathering whatever is still in one piece.” Savage replied. Widget, huffing quiet, slammed the metal cover down over whatever was hidden underneath and shrugged.

“At least we will have an inventory rather quickly. And relax. I know what I am doing.”

“Oh really? And what about that time the entire power grid for Dodge shut down after you claimed to ‘know what you are doing’.” Both Widget and Savage turned their heads in the direction of the gruff, cold voice. Approaching down the road was an earthpony ghoul. His coat (Or what was left of it, hanging from the rotting flesh.) looked to be a bloody red, his mane and tail nothing more than a darker shade of the red. He wore a simple white lab coat which stopped just short of his bleeding heart cutie mark.

“Doctor Tetanus…” Savage nodded a greeting and in return got a mocking bow.

“The junk mare is on her way… I hope we have everything else in order?” Tetanus rose from his bow, glazed over and clouded eyes shifting over to Widget. The mare shivered.

“S-savage has packed us a healing potion each. His own personal weapons, a laser pistol, my gear is in the back, and you have your medical kit in case we find nothing like that. O-oh and enough saddlebags to have two each.” The deathly gaze of the ghoul made Widget uneasy and desperate to escape it, she climbed into the wagon and sat herself down into a makeshift seat up front, placing her fore hooves against the wheel.

“And I thought the last caravan in town looked scary.” The ears of each stallion perked up as the familiar sound of Sandstorm's voice stood out over the noise of the background. Over the leather strapping but not the guns themselves had gone a second set of straps but instead of weapons this one held together an assortment of thick leather armour to cover her chest, sides and back while curved metal plates had been strapped to her fore hooves. Behind her came a bouncing unicorn mare, she looked to be just out of her filly hood with a golden coat and silver mane. A treasure in the dirty wasteland. Instead of a protective barding or even something that signified her job, Hidden Treasure wore a holey pair of overalls with so many extra pockets sewn on, it was hard to tell what the original piece of clothing even looked like. The two mares strode up to the gathering group and as Treasure giggled and hopped right into the back of their ride, Sandstorm approached Tetanus.

“If there are any ghouls lying in wait for us, I will need you to try and keep them off of us, less ammo and time we waste the better.” Her expression was blank and her tone of voice hard, Tetanus nodding to keep the conversation short before climbing into the wagon next to Treasure who had already began poking her nose into the small bag of supplies Savage had gathered together.

“Well, if we are lucky, should be all clear.” Widget forced a burst of nervous laughter as she thumped her hoof down against the ignition, the khaki pegasus and the pale stallion both looking at one another then laughing. Nothing was ever easy and luck was something that they always lacked.

“Sure widget, it will be a breeze.” Sandstorm chuckled, climbing onto one of the sides of the wagon and hooking a hoof over the side instead of climbing inside.

“A walk in the park.” Savage mumbled, doing the same but on the opposite side. Every pony on board, the cyan maned unicorn started the engine, a small puff of smoke rising out from under the metal covering. Unbothered by the smoke, Widget nodded to a pair of heavy built stallions to open the gates, each one grabbing hold of a metal bar in their mouths and slowly pulling the centre apart. The pieced together vehicle lurched forwards as the gap widened just far enough for Widget to crawl through, the two ponies guarding the gate grunting as they pushed the gate shut. As their transportation began to pick up speed, matching that of a pony in full gallop, widget began to grin widely as Sandstorm laughed with surprise, her eyes looking to the ground.

“Gotta hoof it to you Widget, that brain of yours saves us a lot of work at times.” She shouted over the steady hum of what lay beneath the hood. Either too afraid or shocked to take her eyes off either the road or the shaking of her seat, Widget returned the laugh.

“Saves us the energy of lugging everything back!” The mechanic shouted back. Meanwhile, Savage had his ears up and his nose to the wind. His inability to see may have meant he had no sight but his hearing, sense of smell and ability to pick up even the smallest vibrations in the ground had increased to inpony levels. Something in the air smelt off. Dead, almost.

“As long as this little toy of yours can keep going without tossing us off I am more than happy to take this over running.” Tetanus mumbled, his eyes rolling to the side to stare at Treasure for the most part had kept quiet but not still, investigating every part of the wagon she could safely.

“Engine is of my own design, runs off of a combination of crystals, that gunk I find in those old barrels out back and one of those arcane whatchamacallits out of a Steel Pony’s armour.” Widget looked back over her shoulder just far enough for one eye to meet the ghoul’s gaze. “As long as something doesn’t come under constant stress, it should hold.”

“Oh. Makes me feel so much better…” The dead stallion mumbled, unheard by all but Treasure who glanced at him in curiosity.

“I spy with my little eye, Something beginning wiiii…”

“Trees.”

“No.”

“Wood.”

“No.”

“Dirt.”

“I haven't even said what the first letter is!”

“Rocks.”

“Sandy!” Treasure whined, after spending the last hour in utter silence, save for the sounds of metal against dirt and dust, the younger filly had baited Sandstorm to play a game with her. Unfortunately, the battle hardened pegasus never let her finish.

“What? There is nothing more than that out here.” Sandstorm snorted, her ear twitching from the nickname. The snort earned her a hoof stomp on wood and a cute glare, the only one the young mare could muster. Sandstorm almost giggled from the sight, almost.

“There is… Bugs! And Bones! And… And… And um… Dead Stuff?” Treasure frowned, feeling the cold stare that Tetanus was now giving her.

“Not to mention.” Sandstorm was cut off by Savage climbing into the main part of the wagon and reaching out with his tendrils to pick through their bag of supplies as Widget began to slow down. Up ahead, scattered across the road were crates, burlap sacks and half a dozen ponies. The supplies had come from a Brahmin which after the attack, had been pulled off to the side of the road and by the looks of it, had also been bitten into. The caravan owner and his mercenary guard had both been torn to shreds in their dirty clothes and light protective barding, little else being left other than bones, hair and inedible entrails.

“Smells fresh… Not raiders, no stink of shit.” Savage began to mumble as Widget brought them to a complete stop, the pale stallion’s suction tipped tendrils reached up and out in each direction, waving from left to right. “Nothing was fired.” The four black appendages recoiled grouping together on Savage’s back as Sandstorm dropped to the dirt, her dual rifles locked and loaded.

“Okay, same deal as always. Widget is on replacement parts for anything that can still be of use. Tetanus is hunting for medical supplies and Hidden Treasure…” The khaki pegasus thought quiet for a moment as each of the other ponies jumped out of the wagon. “Just… Grab anything you think you can sell. Savage and I will keep a lookout.”

“You know, I don’t see why small caravans like this are hit. I mean, a Brahmin? Really? That’s it? These things by themselves are slow and can only carry as much as you can stack on their backs. It would be more worth hitting a fully loaded wagon.” Widget already had her hooves on a wooden crate and was in the process of prying off the lid with a screwdriver from her utility belt.

“But smaller traders always have the best stuff! They aren't always having things bought from them so what they DO find usually stays with them for a while!” Remaining optimistic, Treasure had already pulled a pair of locked ammunition boxes out from underneath the dead Brahmins corpse and placed them in the back of the wagon. Savage slapped the centre of his face as he felt the golden mare’s bouncing through small vibrations traveling in the ground.

“They also tend to have these” Tetanus held up a small bottle of clear water, earning a small gasp from Widget who had given up on her current crate and now had her eyes focused on the purified water. “There is a crate of twelve here and a few packets of Radaway but, no health potions.”

“Any Med-x?” Sandstorm asked, the majority of her attention on the line of dead and fallen trees to the right side of the road, too far away to pick out many small details.

“No Med-x.” Tetanus repeated, more irritated than saddened by the lack of medical supplies.

“Great. Another day without healing potions… People are going to start complaining if we can’t find any. There is starting to become a bucking shortage of them!” Both annoyed at her crate and the lack of salvage she had managed to find while Treasure had been grabbing worth even a few caps, Widget picked up the crate in her levitation spell and tossed it further down the road. She only managed to get it a few feet before the crate came back down with a wood-splitting crack, a bright light flaring out along with the detonation of a shock grenade. The blue field enveloped the repair mare who screamed and fell to the ground twitching from the rush of electricity in her nerves. Sandstorm flinched from the noise while Savage ran to Widgets aid.

“Sandy, check the crate. Tetanus, get your rotting flank over here.” Savage carefully picked the twitching mare up in his tendrils, the black appendages coiling around each other underneath Widget to form a living bed. Tetanus placed the water bottle back down in its crate and grumbled quietly as he made his way over to the injured mare. He looked down at her twitching form and huffed, getting both a glare from Widget and Savage.

“She will be fine, convulsions will stop once her system calms and no permanent damage is usually caused by shock grenades.” Was all Tetanus said before turning his back and going back to what little he had found. Sandstorm at the time had pushed the crate back up and had her head lowered to look through the cracks in the wood. The sky was dark and clouded so very little light had gotten through but the silver contents of the crate had Sandstorm wriggling with excitement.

“They are called Pulse grenades you idiot and there is a whole lot more than one. Best guess is there should be another seven in here if
the detonation of the first didn't damage any of the other ones.” The armed Pegasus almost began to giggle as she tried to pry open the wooden box.

“Hold on…” Savage mumbled. By now Widget had fallen still save for the steady rise and falling of her chest so he placed down the ash grey mare and took the crate away from Sandstorm. She snorted in disapproval but stared wide eyed at the bouncing metal rocks as Savage’s tentacles tore the crate’s lid off. Thankfully the pin in each one stayed firmly in its hole but four of the remaining pulse grenades were covered in black soot and a fifth had a jagged gash running through the side. Two however were not affected by the blast in any way and had kept their silver sheen.

“Savage, get the lids off any other crates you can find and tell me what’s in them. There might be a few more things we can use.” Carefully rolling the pulse grenades back to the crate, Sandstorm only placed the best two back inside while taking the soot covered (and most likely faulty) explosives and placing them on her back, clipped onto her barding.
As soon as Widget recovered enough to stand, the rest of the salvage went along without interruption. Three more crates had been broken into and three more weapons stashes had been found; one containing frag grenades, one frag mines and the last pulse mines. Golden had also picked out sack after sack and stacked them in the back of the wagon but without telling anyone what was actually inside. All added up, they had found four locked metal boxed and the small crate of clean water and enough explosives to bring down a small house, no problem.

“I think I got it all…” While the other four had climbed into or onto the wagon, Treasure poked her muzzle around what was being left behind. Empty tin cans, coffee mugs, a pipbuck. “Oh!” Treasure almost pounced on the arcane tech, scooping it up in her hooves with a gleeful squeak.

“Come on Goldy! We gotta get back to Dodge!” As the engine sputtered to life, another plume of dark smoke rising, Treasure had instead sat herself down on the road and tried to turn the small hoof device on, her eyes sparkling as the green screen buzzed and flickered. Only to shut off a moment later along with the wagons engine.

“Oh for bucks sake…” Sandstorm muttered under her breath as Widget looked back over her shoulder, laughing nervously.

“So… Who feels like pulling?”