• Published 29th May 2015
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Fallout Equestria: Space Captain Andromeda - Weavers of Dreams



A pre-apocalyptic superweapon awakens to find a desolate wasteland and a stack of comic books. What will become of this new wanderer with a true vendetta?

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Chapter Ten: The Sins of the Past

"Hurry up you stupid cow," the aged zebra in a heavy coal cloak yelled for his subordinate to hear. "I want to be across the border before sundown."

"What about lunch, Grandfather?" asked the subordinate.

The zebra stopped atop of the white dune and growled, pulling back his lips to expose metal fangs. A wind picked up and blew his cloak to the south, exposing the magenta chassis of his power armor. It was much newer than anything the Steel Rangers had, slimmer and more formfitting, allowing a combination of comfort and versatility. Tassels of purple silk hung about the shoulders and hips, while brass chains ending in viper heads wrapped about his fetlocks. Lastly, upon his chest, was the golden image of an alicorn mare in all her glory. The battle scars only served to make it more fearsome.

Scowling, the zebra turned to watch as his grandson panted as he climbed the steep sand incline. A slightly overweight teal earth pony. The pathetic excuse for a soldier was unfit for this kind of work. Which was why he had been brought along. The old zebra believed in learning on the job.

The young earth pony stallion finally reached the top of the dune and collapsed, panting and sweating, his leather barding clinging to his wet fur. He turned his green eyes up to find himself nose-to-nose with his disapproving grandfather. He groaned weakly and tried to push himself up. But found a heavy hoof keeping him from doing so.

"What now?" the earth pony demanded haughtily. He immediately regretted it.

With a flick of his hoof, the zebra sent him rolling back down the dune in a cloud of sand. The zebra snorted and looked down at the prone figure of the stallion. The stallion's pack had opened up and all their supplies had scattered. "Pick it all up, colt, and get back up here. I will give to the count of twenty. If you are not up here by then, then we'll skip lunch and continue on till nightfall. Maybe longer if you disappoint me anymore."

Legs burning in pain, the stallion managed to get everything together and reach the top of the hill by the time the zebra reached seventeen. The zebra hardly acknowledged him and then continued on, down the other side of the dune. The poor buck let out a groan and followed.

"It's no fair," he wheezed as he practically slid down the hill. "You got power armor, you could... walk... walk all week."

"I am being very fair. It's been turned off since we left Sanctuary."

The pony froze and listened. Sure enough there was no sound of motors running. His grandfather was moving without any aid whatsoever.

"Grandma... told you never... to do that... again," he shouted after the old zebra, quickening his aching legs to catch up with him. "You know how much she... she worries about you."

The zebra rolled his eyes. "She worries about you. Thinking I need to conserve energy to save your sorry hide. Even after you got us into this mess."

"Hey, you're the one... who ordered a red alert," the grandson retorted. "If anything... it's... your... fault."

"You're the bucker who traced the signal," the grandfather shot right back. "Right now, I could be rubbing your grandmother's..."

"No nightmare fuel," the grandson shouted, dropping to the ground and covering his tender ears. Much to the zebra's amusement.

"How could such a wonderful plot give you nightmares?" he chuckled in bemusement at the pony's agonized cries. "After all, it's nice and round, firm from her exercises, and she likes it when I..."

"Stooooop," the pony pleaded. But his grandfather was merciless.

"But the real treasures reside between her thighs," he continued with faraway look in his eyes. "Did you know she still lactates? No potion's doing either. Just constant su..." He paused when he no longer heard his grandson's pleas. Turning around he saw him laying sprawled out on the ground, twitching.

"Oh no," the zebra gasped, rushing over to the fallen pony and shadowing him from the sun before reaching down to see if he was alright. He let out a sigh of relief when his grandson let out a soft moan. Closing his eyes, the zebra sat down and removed his cloak. Under which was an assortment of weapons, he was only interested in a short rod.

Pressing a button on the side of the rod, it extended into a spear. He stuck the tip into the ground near the pony and then hung the cloak upon it, weighting down the corner with the sand before removing the pack from the pony's back and rolling him over to fan his face.

"I've pushed you two hard these past weeks, Short Wave, I am truly sorry." He may have been a rough and demanding old soldier, but he did care deeply for his grandson. "Rest this day, and the next, I will stand watch over you."

His grandson muttered some weak thanks and closed his eyes to sleep. The zebra activated his power armor, there was a slight hum and then the sand began to blow away beneath his hooves. Two rifles automatically moved into position at his sides, green lights coming on to show they were fully charged. The plates under the collar shifted to construct a helmet about his head, allowing only his mane to stick out. A magic view screen allowed him to see without need of any form of transparent material, in place of which, was the bright gold word: COMMISSAR.

* * *

Since the black unicorn hadn't given her a time limit, Andromeda tentatively assumed she could to care for the poor mare at least until she woke up. She knew she should get back as soon as possible for Pintsize and Cold's sake, but she couldn't just leave the mare like this. What if something came into her cave while she slept? That didn't bare thinking about.

Having explored the cave while waiting, she found it to all be dirt and stone, just like the mare's chamber. Which was a bittersweet relief. Not only did it mean her family was safe, but it also meant that she was still far away from any place she could send out a message for help. She was not willing to go back to Promise, feeling she might wind up reducing it to splinters and ash instead.

She was only pony.

Having managed to clean up the mess she created when she was looking for the yellow stuff, she had taken time to sort the shelves and start cooking some healthy broth. There was not much in the way of recognizable ingredients, mainly just wild onions and garlics with what appeared to be potatoes. There was salt too, giant bags worth that she'd found hidden away in a little cubby. Almost as though the mare was hording it.

"Ponies do the strangest things," Andromeda sighed as she added a sprinkle of salt to the mixture. She had made sure to thinly dice the onions and garlic, and then scallop the potatoes, that way it would be thick and settle nicely in the stomach. Looking back at the mare, she did appear quite thin. Hunger might have attributed to her paranoid behavior.

She had wanted to take peek at the mare's cutie mark to gain some insight to a profession or talent. But restrained herself, as she seemed to prefer her privacy. Perhaps the cape was meant to cover it in the first place. Was she ashamed of her special talent?

She slowly stirred the broth with a wooden spoon, hoping it was clean, as there didn't appear to be any soap around. For the spoon, of course. She was so daft as to use soap with cast iron, that would never come out. She'd lost a good skillet that way.

Realizing her mind was wandering, Mercy shook her head and let out a sigh. "Can't I concentrate on one thing at a time when I'm not in a fight to the death?" She wanted to taste and sniff the broth to make sure it was alright, she wasn't going to skimp on it, but didn't feel like cutting a hole in her helmet again as she didn't know what other weapons Mrs. Miserables had laying around.

Speak of the devil, she was beginning to groan.

Andromeda turned to watch the strange mare begin to stir, thrashing about as though she had been caught in a net. Taking the pot off the fire, Mercy trotted to the mare's side and gently stroked her mane so as to calm her. It didn't work.

Mrs. Miserables let out a shriek as though she had been stabbed, puled away up against the wall and opened her eyes wide as if expecting to find a horrid predator. She instead found Andromeda, whom she deemed even scarier. She'd apparently had a nightmare about her as well.

"No," she cried loudly, putting out her hooves while her eyes searched for a weapon, even though she knew it would be useless, "stay back you horrid creature. I didn't mean to try and kill you... well... yes I did. But you... just die."

A thumping sensation and a dull sound caused Andromeda to look back. Apparently the unicorn had grabbed the root and fishbone... thing in her magic, and proceeding to beat her over the helmet with it. Rolling her eyes, she levitated to pot over to her side, and then promptly grabbed the mare by the shoulder and forced her to lay down. Then she propped up her shivering head with a salt bag, and proceeded to try and spoon feed her the broth.

It was relatively easy, as Mrs. Miserables mouth just hung open. The fact she just let it spill out caused Andromeda to stop after one spoonful. "Your supposed to chew and then swallow the broth, Marigold." She closed her eyes and gave another sigh at having to explain this to a grown mare.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get you to eat something," Andromeda huffed as she brought another spoonful up the mare's face.

"Why?"

"Because you just shot yourself with a high-caliber bullet, and need rest and sustenance." Mercy spoke as if to a belligerent filly. Then she grew perplexed. "Speaking of bullets. How is it didn't pass all the way through? That was a big gun."

Mrs. Miserables tilted her eyes up and scrunched face. "I'm... hardy?" Andromeda was not convinced. "Bad powder?"

"It took a chip out of my helmet," Mercy exclaimed loudly, but still managed to keep control of the spoon, guiding it to the mare's lips. The mare cautiously took the broth into her mouth, while looking at the helmet for the mark. "Don't bother, my suit heals itself."

Mrs. Miserables gulped down the broth and looked into the strange mare's eyes. There it was again. That sensation of not wanting to harm her. Beating her helmet with the roots was because of a panic attack, and right now she couldn't bring herself to pick the roots back up to do it again. Then, as she shifted herself for a better position, she noticed something. The mare had left the pistol right next to her bedding. In plain view.

Andromeda was watching. "Yes, I left it there for you."

"Again. Why?" the mare asked, feeling a bit on edge.

"Because," Andromeda started, putting another spoonful into the mare's mouth. "it doesn't matter kind someone acts, hoe sweet they talk, or how nice they look, anypony who disarms you is not your friend."

That got Mrs. Miserables thinking. "It's been a... very long time since anypony's called me a friend. I mean, for bucking loudly in the parlor, I tried to kill you."

Mercy paused the spoon halfway to the mare's mouth, which hung open expectantly. "Would you rather I returned the favor?"

The mare immediately shut her mouth and gave her an apologetic look. "No. Not really. Absolutely not."

"Very good," Andromeda said with a cheery smile as she stuffed the spoon into the mare's mouth. "You know, your lucky. Most ponies would be rolling about in pain still. Plus the internal damages alone should have left you much weaker."

"Zebra potions," Mrs. Miserables admitted sourly, obviously displeased with having to reveal her secret. But it was apparent to her that this strange mare was not one to leave questions unanswered. Giving in was the only logical solution. "Learned it long ago from an old friend."

"Well, at least you have a useful hobby," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Its called survival," the mare snapped back bitterly, not liking her life style being treated as being quaint.

"No need to get angry," Andromeda chided her, tapping her nose with the spoon. "I'm just making conversation. You need to relax a little, it'll help you heal."

"Relaxing gets you killed. My potions will work just fine."

"And all those ulcers, wrinkles and paranoid thoughts are just an added bonus, hmmm?"

Mrs. Miserables crossed her legs before her chest and huffed. "I can feed myself now. If you want those items, they're buried under the fire pit."

That gave Andromeda pause. "Just like that? You seemed so adamant to keep them just a while ago."

The mare rolled her eyes. "They've been naught but trouble since the first I stole them. Take them back to their master, and rid me of their curse."

"Curse?" Andromeda asked, feeling a little uneasy.

"Yeah," Mrs. Miserables said as she grabbed the spoon in her own magic and began chowing down, speaking between bites. "Ever since I swiped them, the raiders have been throwing themselves against my defenses, even getting the wildlife to do favors for them. I haven't had a full nights sleep in ages. Then, boom. You show up, and I have to use my illusion magic to -ow..."

Andromeda had cuffed her sharply over the ear. "That's for scaring me half to death with that, by the way. I thought it was a Stable... full of corpses. For crying out loud. Can't I find any find just one pony that's at least a little civilized?"

Mrs. Miserables stared at her oddly. "A Stable? Full of corpses?" Andromeda nodded. "The illusion I cast was an attracting spell, meant to put ponies at ease while they walk into a trap. You'd have to be a raider for that to attract you. What kind of sick mare are you?"

That made Mercy take a step back. "I'm not a raider."

"Well you certainly sound like one," the other mare said, taking another portion of the broth. She paused moment to let the food slosh around in her mouth. "You used some of my salt... didn't you?"

Glad for an opportune change of subject, she nodded. "I needed some added flavoring. Just plain vegetable and water, blegh. Speaking of vegetables, you should get yourself wider selection at some point. You're looking awfully thin. Perhaps a little meat to help flesh out that figure of yours. Oh, and get of this forest, that'd also do wonders for your health."

The mare gave her another odd look. "I already told you where the items are. What else do you want?"

"I want you to get healthier and live a proper life," Andromeda said as she removed levitated the burning wood from the fire pit and began digging down with the DMCs. "I won't always be around to help you every step of the way."

Mrs. Miserables was more perplexed than ever. No pony did something like this for such an absurd reason. "You're not fooling me." Andromeda paused and looked back at her. "Just so you know. Whatever it is that you're planning, what ever it is you want, I probably don't have it. What you see around this place is all I have." She gestured with a hoof to the room. "All the clutter, this gun, some extra bullets, and myself."

"Isn't there a Mr. Miserables?" Andromeda asked, going back to digging. She just couldn't get this mare to relax. The best thing would probably be to leave. Let the mare sort herself out.

Mrs. Miserables took a thoughtful sip at the spoon, watching the mare work. She sighed. "There was. Long ago... very long ago." She picked up her pistol and spun the cylinder with a far off look in her eyes. "He died."

"Any foals?"

"No," the mare snapped. A green glint appeared in her suspicious eyes. "Is that your game? You're trying to coax the whereabouts of possible children?"

Andromeda remained calm, tentatively working. "I'm sorry you're so paranoid. Also, I'm sorry you never got to experience the joy of having a foal or two. I have a little earth pony filly, Tundra, quite a ragamuffin. And, a unicorn colt, Dawn, who I just barely finished weaning right before I... had to leave. Oh, how I miss them. Ah, here we go."

She quickly pulled out a chest and then cropped the fire back into the pit. Wanting to make sure it what she was sent to retrieve, as having to come back would be a chore, she cut the lock and opened the box. The sound of her slamming the lid shut echoed throughout the cave. She scooted back a short distance and took several deep breaths. "What... is... that?"

"A dark dream that still dreams," Mrs. Miserables commented as she observed her reactive curiously. Only somepony with a truly good heart could be repulsed so violently. There was that question again. "Who are you? Where are you from?"

Andromeda steeled herself and picked up the chest in her magic and turned towards the exit. "I am Mercy Andromeda, and I'm on a mission to save a couple of teenagers." Then she added for a the sake of mystery: "I'm from on high." And with that, she left.

Mrs. Miserables contemplated this for a minute, and then sighed wearily. "I suppose I'll have to get some answers the hard way."

* * *

The black unicorn, Spell Nexus, watched from afar as the strange mare returned, bearing the chest in her magic. He had not left his spot on the shore since their previous meeting, and had fasted the entire day in preparation for the moments to come. Now, as evening began to tear away the day, he broke into a smile, displaying pearly white teeth. "So, the time has come at long last."

Turning, he found four of his marauders keeping watch of the bedraggled teens. He gave a nod to one of the guards, who then ran off to tell the whole village. Tonight was the night.

Spell Nexus made sure to be the first to greet the mare and take the chest from her. Peering inside, her smiled triumphantly. "You have done well. You must be a very a strong mare to have beaten that witch."

Andromeda decided to take the compliment and not mention anything about Mrs. Miserables. She smiled and nodded, then moved towards the teenagers. "You'll let us all go now, right?"

"Not just yet."

Andromeda whirled around and glared at him with eyes full of wrath. "We had a deal. I bring you your precious toys, and we get to leave."

"Things have changed a little," Spell Nexus said, pushing past her towards the canyon. "Just while longer. We have something special planned."

"If it involves bones I don't want any part of it," Andromeda muttered bitterly, eyeing the guards who pushed their spears against the teen's necks. She was seething inside, angry at having been duped. Then a large bag was dropped over her head and she was grabbed from both sides by unseen ponies to be dragged off, kicking and cursing into the canyon.

---STRESS DETECTED---ADMINISTERING TESTOSTERONE---

"Oh buck off, Peppy."

* * *

A figure wove through the amassing marauders, unseen to their untrained eyes, observing the preparations of the ritual. A metal pedestal was set between the two cliffs, and upon it was a wooden bowl. Other bowls stood about on pedestals, being filled with powder, which was then soaked with oils from earthen jars. Not just on the ground, other bowls were being suspended above as well by metal cables, being positioned perfectly so as not to align with the ones below.

The bones were being cleared away from the ground, and several mares were painting lines and runes between the evenly spaced pedestals. The paint they used was a sickly red oil, one part vegetable, two parts animal. They carried about their meticulous task, all the while, their eyes becoming like Spell Nexus', turquoise and serpentine.

None of the marauders were immune to the exciting magic that hummed in the air. Even the foals were quiet and orderly. No pony thought this was odd, save for the observer, who zipped along with ease, untouched by the constant movements of the crowd.

She paused a moment to watch the black unicorn carry the chest to the center pedestal and set it upon the ground. Then she watched as he reverently began to lift the items from the chest out, one-by-one, and deposited them into the bowl in a ceremonial fashion. He carried on until he came to the last item. which he pulled out and set let it hover above his head for a brief moment.

It was a helmet, battled and old, made of blue metal. It appeared to have been broken in an ancient fight, and but perhaps there was a bigger story to it then that. The observer knew, and knew everypony else in the canyon did as well. All except that one naïve mare who was currently arguing with some unseen pony named Peppy.

The observer made her way up a wooden staircase to the upper portion of the canyon. Then made her silent way to the bridge closest to the ritual sight, crossing over to the middle, where she crouched down and watched the events unfold, waiting for the moment to strike.

She also noted the two young ponies being forced along at spear point. They couldn't have been marauders. The dyes they wore were no where near as dark, and the tattoos were missing. Perhaps she had heard wrong.

In that brief moment the observer had looked at the teenagers, she didn't notice the black unicorn turn his eyes towards her and give a smile, before quickly turning his eyes back to his work. With one last glance at the helmet, he settled it gently upon the black shards that rested in the bowl and bowed respectfully.

"Tonight, marks the final evening after the final dawn. My queen, grant us this boon, that we may fulfill your glory and rid ourselves of these problems that plague us. Let there be no more unnecessary delays to your awakening. For this night, let the blood of your enemies be laid out for all to see. Grant us your glory, that we might serve you in the dark kingdom of the infinite night."

With that, Spell Nexus turned to prepare a few more things.

* * *

---SUBJECT: SPACE CAPTAIN ANDROMEDA---OBSCURED---UNABLE TO ASSESS CIRCUMSTANCES---READYING ELDRITCH CANNON 003---ELDRITCH CANNON 003 STATUS: 100%---CHARGES TWO OF FOUR HUNDRED READY---TWO CHARGES ON STANDBY---BLIND FAITH PROTOCOL ENACTED---CHANCES OF CORRECT CHOICES: 67%---RISK PARAMETERS: ACCEPTABLE---

The eldritch cannon swiveled so that it was pointing towards the canyon. The thermal lens detecting ponies at work, but none of them were bearing the Captain's signal. If something happened, the ship's mainframe would have to choose a side to fight for to keep Andromeda safe. There only a 33% chance it might choose the wrong side. But desperate times called for desperate measures.