Fallout Equestria: Cultivation

by LilithGalac

Wounded Beginning

The alarm clock I keep next to my bed is ringing. I can hear it from the hall-- And as it echoes down the metal hallways, I know I’m busted. The sound grows suddenly louder as the door to my quarters slides open with a pneumatic hiss, just as I reach it. Standing there is the rather intimidating silhouette of a tall mare.

“Been anywhere special, Seven-Ten Split?” She asks.

Full name, never a good sign.

When you live in a subterranean bunker, space tends to be at a premium. And I share mine with… my mother. Her horn glows, and the beeping grows blaringly loud as the clock levitates out into the hall, the time flashing in my eyes; Seven AM. Approximately… nine hours after I was supposed to be in bed, asleep.

“Well?” She asks. I try to speak, my legs shaking from a mixture of physical fatigue and nerves. Finally, I manage.

“... Was practicing my set. I’m only a few pins off a perfect 300, mom, you know that’s important!” I manage, stumbling over my words as her glare cuts through me.

“You know Teach doesn’t like anyone being in the halls passed lights out. You’re going to get both of us in hot water for this, Split. All you talk about is bowling lately, you need to start focusing on how you’re going to help the stable. Even your father somehow managed to get that in his head.” She chides me. I nod, meekly reaching up to hit the snooze button on my alarm, finally silencing the irritating sound.

The lights above us flicker slightly, as if to emphasise her point; Our home isn’t in the best shape at the moment. Everyone’s trying to ignore it, but the technicians downstairs have been struggling to keep the lights on for weeks. It’s why we had our curfew instated in the first place; Less power usage at night, so we can keep the lights on during the day. I think.

“... Yeah, yeah, I just… need to nap a bit first, okay?” I grumble. Twenty-four years old, and I still have to ask mommy to go to bed. How embarrassing.

She doesn’t move from the doorway.

“Well, considering you’ve been so active all night, you must be positively brimming with energy. And since I had to stay up waiting for you to get home, and your alarm woke me up, I think I’ll be taking that nap instead.” She tells me, with a glare that dares me to talk back.
“You’re going to go to Teach and tell him you were bowling on the alley past curfew again.”

And with that, the door slides shut behind her, leaving me in the dimly lit hallway, alone. I can hear the gentle sounds of ponies around me waking up, probably in quite a bit of comfort in their nice, cushy beds…

Normally, I’d wait for mom to fall asleep, then sneak in after her and just deal with the shouting match fully rested, but something tells me she’s a little more alert today. So, with a sleepy weight in the back of my mind, I turn and stagger down the hall.

Up the stairs, take a left, down two flights, and… in the atrium. It’s wide open, with a huge tree in the centre. Supposedly it’s pre-war, planted when this stable was first constructed. The sprinkler system that keeps it hydrated has been yet another thing on the fritz lately, so it’s looking a little… sad. Maybe I’ll come by and water it later. It seems like it needs some company, anyway.

The cafeteria to my left is bustling with early-risers. There’s a decent amount of irritated grumbling and complaining from inside, and I swing past to see if I can get any idea of why. A friend of mine, Tightrope, is leaning on the doorway. She grins as I approach, gesturing into the bustle of complaining ponies.
“Coffee machine’s busted. There was a power surge last night and the thing exploded. Chef’s working on salvaging what he can, but I don’t think anyone’s too eager to wait for their morning cuppa joe.” She snorts. Tightrope is my age, and always wears this old ratty leather jacket her father found for her. He was a scout for the stable before he went missing out there, and she’s been campaigning to get sent out to find him for years.

She’s always been very… anti-Stable, and also seems to enjoy it when things break.

I can almost understand the sentiment. I just want to get out of this place sometimes, and the day when we finally head out into the wasteland to settle and live amongst the ponies out there will be a great one. But at the same time… This is our home.

It’s protected us for two centuries, and so I can’t bring myself to want to see it break.

“You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” I ask. Tightrope snickers, shaking her head.
“Nah, but I wish I did, sabotaging the coffee-supply would have been a fantastic plan.” She says, with a laugh, ignoring one of the ponies closer to her shooting her an irritated glare. We bump hooves, and I nod.
“I’d love to stay and enjoy the trouble, but I gotta go talk to Teach.”

“What, mommy told you to go talk to him again?” She teases, ruffling my hair. I bat her away, huffing lightly.
“Whatever, we’ll chat later.” I yawn widely, shaking my head as I turn back to the atrium.

With the cafeteria behind me, I can see the library ahead. It’s slowly waking up as the Mr. Handy librarian patrols the shelves, making sure every book is in its proper place. I’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights there, studying all kinds of pre-war records, trying to learn as much as I can about the event that landed my ancestors and their peers in here.

Needless to say, there isn’t a whole lot about the actual… day the spells hit, other than a bunch of vague tales written in journals and such. I just can’t wait to actually… be out there some day. Maybe I’d meet one of the ghouls other scouts have talked about, and really get some lessons on before the war!

But for now… I have to talk to Stern Teaching, usually just called Teach. Some stuffy old dude who’s been the Overstallion for as long as I can remember. He’s a grouchy, kinda mean old dude, but he seems to have the Stable’s health at heart.

Me and Tightrope have this theory that he sees the Stable as his kid, since he doesn’t have any of his own. Considering how grouchy and overprotective he can get about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Our stable is pretty standard according to the records in our library- Enough luxury to keep us happy, but enough actual things to do to keep us from getting complacent, so when the day comes for us to fully head out into the wastes to set up shop, we’ll be ready.

Honestly, I think that’ll be the case sooner rather than later, with how much everything’s been breaking lately.

Up another set of stairs between the library and the hairdresser’s, and I’m finally outside Teach’s office.

I calmly bonk my head on the door as I reach it, bumping my hooves limply against the door controls. Exhaustion is really hitting me now, so hard I don’t hear the muffled arguing until the door opens and it spills out into the hall.

“-elling you, the stable barely has a month at this rate! We need supplies!” Shouts a stallion, leaning a hoof on Teach’s desk. As I focus my eyes on the two- the old, wrinkled pegasus behind the desk and the one leaning on it, I realise…
“Oh, hey dad.” I mumble, stepping in with a yawn. My dad is a huge stallion, and an absolute sweetheart… so seeing him so visibly agitated is concerning enough to wake me up a bit. Plus seeing him up here is… weird, since he’s been spending so much time down in the maintenance wings keeping everything patched together for the last few weeks.

He glances at me as I speak, and his expression softens.
“Er, hey, Split. Listen, tell your mom I’ve been trying to swing b-”
“It’s okay, uh… What’s going on?” I ask, carefully stepping around a topic I’m sick of hearing about.

Teach huffs, the old pony waving his hooves irritably as he sits up, asserting himself somewhat.
“Your father thinks that Stable-Tec didn’t provide us enough supplies to fix our generator.” He says, with a scowl. He crosses his hooves over his chest, wings ruffling behind him as my dad closes his eyes.

“I’m telling you, Teach, they didn’t exactly expect us to be down here for two hundred years! We haven’t sent any scouts out in weeks, and we haven’t done a real supply run in eight months. I’ve been going over our maps, and there’s a town nearby that might have exactly what we need.” He reaches into a saddlebag sitting at the foot of the desk, and my stomach drops as I realise just how… fully stocked it is.

“... You’re leaving, dad? You haven’t done any scout training!” I interject. He ignores me, unrolling the map on Teach’s desk and pointing to a circled area.

“We haven’t gotten any scouts close enough because of your frustratingly strict orders, oh benevolent Overstallion, so we can’t be sure if there’s any signs of life there. All the places in our immediate vicinity have been picked clean, too. But if you can authorise just one expedition-”

“We can’t send our head engineer into the wastes. And most of our scouts are busy helping you down in the maintenance sector, so we can’t have your workforce affected like that in these… trying times.” Teach interrupts him, leering up at my dad. They’ve never really gotten along, but I’ve never seen such spite thrown between them. Dad goes to speak,

“... If this is about-”

“I can go!” I step forward, interrupting the two. My heartbeat begins to pick up, my horn lighting up as I tug the saddlebags over to myself. Maybe I can finally meet a ghoul…

“I’ve done the introductory training for scouting. I-I know the area around the stable.” I stammer. I try to ignore the worry on my dad’s face, and the odd glee on Teach’s. This is a chance to get outside the stable, to see the world outside. It’s… stupid and impulsive. My rational brain knows it, but I have an opportunity to go outside for the first time.

“A-and, I just… I want to see the wastes for myself.” I admit. The two stallions stare at me for a painfully long time, before dad sighs, looking away. Teach nods.

“I’ll authorise it. But you need to leave immediately, if these supplies are as important as your father tells us.” He rolls up the map, hoofing it to me. I nod, taking it and stuffing it in the saddlebags, before quickly picking them up, slinging them over my back.

“There’s a list of the parts we need in the bags. And enough rations to keep you going for long enough to get back safely.” Dad says, looking at me with worry in his eyes.

“I can hold the patches on the generator together for two weeks. After that, I can’t promise anything, so… Just hurry there and back, okay? If you can’t get what you need from that town, just… Come back, and we’ll sort something out.” He ruffles my mane with a weak sigh, turning to glare at Teach.

“... Go… tell your mother you’ll be out for the rest of the day, I’ll… I’ll uh, think of something to tell her.” He says, with a weak laugh. We both know how strict she can be. If she knew I was leaving, she’d probably put me in a headlock and ground me… wouldn’t be the first time.

I roll my eyes to try and lighten the mood.

“Yeah yeah, I gotta go get my trusty sidearm anyway!” I grin gleefully, trying not to let the look on my dad’s face bring down my excitement as I skitter out of the office, the door sliding shut behind me. The stable’s morning-alarm rings over the PA system, waking up anyone who might still be asleep-- I take a faint joy in knowing mom is probably being kept up by it right now.

I’m still exhausted. I can feel it on the edge of my eyes, a twitchy, desperate feeling to sleep. But endorphins, pure excitement, are flooding my brain right now-- My rational side is telling me to sleep and head out tonight, but my irrational side is reminding me that this mission needs to be done as soon as possible… and I can probably find a bed out in the wastes somewhere. It’s been two hundred years, surely they’ve figured out how to make beds.

The morning alarm crackles and hisses as the speaker above me loses power, the wailing beep trailing off into silence.

Back in the atrium, things are a little more busy now. Ponies are pretty much all awake, and chatting away in the cafeteria as I pass through the atrium. Tightrope’s nowhere to be seen- she’s probably off hassling the scouts for intel.

Up two flights of stairs, take a right, down a flight of stairs… And I’m back in my hallway. I shrug off my saddlebags, just in case mom’s still awake.
The door to my quarters slides open, and I see my mother laying in bed, flicking through a book with a lazy stare. Good thing I was honest, seems she can’t sleep after all.

She glances my way and smiles sleepily.
“Sorry for being so short with you, hun, I didn’t sleep well last night…” She sighs tiredly, sitting up and laying her book down.

I can tell she’s about to spring into a tangent, so I quickly light my horn and grab my trusty super soaker from my bedside table. Maybe not the best weapon for out in the wastes, but hey, I’m sure it could be useful for something… it’s better than nothing at all. Even the security ponies aren’t allowed to have guns in here.

“Uh, no time, mom, Tightrope challenged me to a water-gun battle in the atrium! I’ll see you, uh, later!” I grin, skittering toward the door, only interrupted by a weary sigh. I turn to face her, locking our tired eyes. Something about her expression is different. She looks… weary. Not just sleep-deprived weary. I’ve never seen her look so tired before.

She knows, doesn’t she? She’s about to yell at me, about to-

“... Be careful, okay?” She says, eyes staring through me once again.

There’s a long moment as we look into one another’s eyes, the door sliding open behind me.

“Love you, mom.” I say, with a smile, stepping out into the hall. Before I can give her time to change her mind, I sprint down the hall, my horn glowing and snagging my saddlebags on the way past, settling them on my back once more. Up a flight of stairs, take a right… And this time up! Up three flights of stairs, and I’m at the top level of the stable.

I step out right into the stable door room itself. It’s nowhere near as lively as the rest of the place, especially since scouting missions have been so few and far between lately. A single sleepy security pony is sitting at the controls, flipping through a magazine as I step toward the walkway before the door. He doesn’t even notice me, so engrossed in… whatever he’s reading.

“Hey, Sticker, you good in there?” I call. The stallion yelps, slapping his reading material shut and looking up, squinting through the visor of his helmet.
“Oh, uh… Wait, Split? Are you supposed to be up here? … Did Tightrope send you?” He asks, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

I roll my eyes, gesturing to my saddlebags.
“Uh, no? I’m heading out on an expedition. For real this time!”
“I’m not buyin’ that one, Split, you almost got me to open the door last time and I nearly got my flank kicked! It’s a miracle Teach doesn’t have me stomping roaches down in the maintenance levels.” He huffs, crossing his hooves. I sigh, absentmindedly trotting in place to keep my momentum going.

“Check the records, Teach shoulda authorised an expedition by now!” I assure him. Sticker sighs wearily, looking at the control panel before him. He hesitates, then looks up.
“... If it turns out you’ve hacked your way in here or somethin’, it’s your flank on the line. Fine, fine…” He slaps a few buttons, and the doorway to the stairs slides shut behind me, as does the doorway to his security booth.

An alarm klaxon blares, machinery whirring and clanking and grinding all around me.

Finally, it’s my time to head out into the wastes. Time to make a name for myself. Time to… Well, help my stable not explode on itself. But still! It’s gonna be a hell of an adventure, I can just feel it.

The heavy door grinds aside in front of me, the screeching of metal on metal filling the room. My heartbeat picks up, pounding in my chest as excitement hits me like a freight-train. I haven’t slept in nearly twenty four hours, yet this is the most awake I’ve ever felt.

As the door slowly opens, static crackles and I hear Sticker’s voice over the intercom system set into the ceiling.
“You’ll be wanting a pipbuck for this one. Teach doesn’t give ‘em out lightly, so look after it.” As if on cue, a slot opens up in the security booth, and out slides… A pipbuck. Only Teach’s generation has them nowadays-- I don’t know all the details, but according to dad, once he was in charge the overstallion decreed that no-one would get any unless they were approved scouts or expedition teams. No idea why.

I slip the pipbuck over my left forehoof, grunting as it slots into place and adheres to my leg. These things aren’t easy to take off, and for good reason! As it whirrs to life, I feel a pleasant warmth settle in, the machinery working just like new. At least these things are kept in good shape.

Immediately, a chilly air hits me as the heavy gear-shaped Stable door slides to a halt off to my right. I can see out into the dim cave outside our Stable, and further beyond, the dim light of the wastes themselves.

… Why can’t I move?

A bead of sweat runs down my forehead. My legs are shaking. I’m panicking. Why am I panicking?

A sudden crackle of static jolts me from my reverie.
“Can’t keep this thing open forever, Split. Get moving.” Sticker’s voice is almost entirely masked by static, but I get the gist. Forcing myself forward, I take my first steps out of Stable-303. Finally, my adventure begins.

The walk through the dim cave outside our Stable is uneventful. I try to ignore the grinding gears and screeching metal behind me as the stable door shuts, sealing me away from my comfy home. It’s only two weeks. I can manage this. I assure myself.

Stepping out of the cave, I’m finally greeted with our little slice of wasteland. The cloud cover that once kept the sky hidden disappeared a few months back, around the time we stopped sending out expeditions… Maybe Teach was scared of the sky.

… not that I can blame him. Looking up at it, that beautiful, crisp blue sky… It’s enough to make my head spin. It just keeps going, and going, no ceiling to stop it. Seeing it in pictures is one thing, but…

I shake myself out of it, and light my horn, tugging out the map dad packed, laying it on the ground. The central point is Stable 303, with the town of Neighbourough to the immediate east. The road leads from there up to Nighttown in the northeast… if I make good time, I might be able to make it before midnight.

I glance up from the map, and look down the raised hill our Stable sits inside… Yep, there’s Neighbourough. Man, why did pre-war ponies have to make puns out of everything?

The town itself is only a short hike away. Our scouts and expedition teams have picked it clean of old tech and anything else salvageable, so I can see why dad wants to branch out further. Tucking the map away, I start a quick jog down the hill, grinning with excitement.

It's still early morning when I finally reach Neighbourough. Its a small town, mostly just a few office buildings surrounding an intersection, with two circles of houses around that. The town is a weird sort of pyramid shape, in a way- Maybe there’s some cool pharaoh buried under the town!

The odd mental image makes me laugh...

… Although I feel that was a mistake, as I hear the sound of my giggle echo down the silent main road. There’s a distant sound of movement, and I quickly whip out my super soaker, horn glowing with magic as I levitate it next to my head.
… I don’t think this is the best weapon I could have grabbed, in hindsight... I think to myself-- Just as something darts out of an alleyway in front of me.

With a shriek, I stumble back, blasting water in the direction of the shape, skittering behind an abandoned, burned out car. I look left, then right, trying to find an exit and cursing my stupid mouth. I hear the sound of something approaching, followed by a raspy inhale. Before whatever it is can get the drop on me, I clumsily roll out of my impromptu cover and blast another spray of water directly at whatever it is approaching.

However, my plan ends there, and I end up fully exposed, laying on cracked asphalt, a shadow looming over me. My water gun clatters to the ground as my magic cuts out, my panic rising again-- Before I can scream or cry, I’m interrupted by the sound of a long, slow gulp.
“... Ahh. Thanks for the refresherdrink, Stablemare! Been a while since I got some pure water.”

Despite the drink I just gave the speaker, their voice is raspy and rough, like sandpaper on my ears. However, before my eyes are fully adjusted, a scarred talon reaches out and grabs the hem of my coat. Immediately my panic returns, and I begin babbling and begging for them not to hurt me.

“Calm down, kid. I ain’t lookin’ to hurt ya.” The creature rasps, yanking me to my hooves. I’m forced to stand, staggering back in shock, finally able to take in my assailant fully.

… She’s a griffon! Not just that, she’s a ghoul too!

And she’s a hell of a griffon, too. A head taller than me, with a wide-set skeleton. Her muscles are decayed from the radiation, but they’re still a sight bigger than any I’ve seen in the stable… aside from those old bodybuilder magazines I found stuffed in the corner of the library, anyway.

For a griffon, she doesn’t have a lot of feathers- Her head is entirely bald, and her flesh has peeled away to show the smooth skull beneath. Her single eye is full of determination, the other hidden by a black eyepatch. Her beak is scratched and scraped, but intact. Her tail is singed, half gone, and the feathers on her wings are completely gone, showing the bone beneath.

“Swing, irradiated friendpanion, at your service, noble Stabledweller!” She rasps, bowing dramatically, giving me a good look at the smooth bone of her skull.
“Uhm. H-hi. I’m… Seven-Ten Split.” I reply. As amiable as she seems, I do at least know that wastelanders can be… unpredictable at best.
“Well, Seven-Ten Split, how would you like a buddyguide?” The griffon asks, eagerness twinkling in her eyes. She leans in, breath making my nose wrinkle.

“Uh, well. I’... I’m just heading to Nighttown for a quick supply ru-”
“Ah, Nighttown!” The griffon interrupts me, sliding around next to me and wrapping a dangerously sharp talon around my shoulders, hugging me close to her side. Her bony wings poke my belly, making me wince from the discomfort.

“I’m actually pretty well known there, y’see. And I’m in pretty direquick need of some shelter and companionstance, y’feel me?” She asks, nudging my side.
“I can get’cha better helpservice, and- oh, we should get moving. Rightquick!”

Before I can ask what she’s even talking about, there’s a distant crack, and a bullet rails off the wreckage next to me. I try to scream, but the air is knocked out of my lungs as Swing yanks me aside, tucking me under one of her wings as she runs into a nearby building. More cracks bring more bullets sailing past us, and I hear Swing grunt and stagger as she’s clipped in the flank by a glancing shot.

She doesn’t even bother trying to open the ancient door, instead throwing both of us through the hole where window-glass once sat. Still winded, I roll to the side, wheezing as Swing jumps up, leaning out the window.
“Ah, ya blasted metalbastards! Leave me be, tell Ten-Bit she can stuff her debtchains up her- Ack!” The griffon dives back as more bullets fly her way.

The store we’re in has been mostly picked clean- Again, likely by our expedition teams. Shelves probably once lined the floor, but they’ve all been pushed against the walls- Only the countertop that probably once housed a cash register remains, due to it being bolted to the floor.

“Stablesplit, get yer head down!” Swing barks, gesturing to the counter. As our assailants turn a corner and open fire into the store, I don’t need to be told twice- I make a dash for the counter, diving over it with a scream.

I can hear Swing swearing as she wrestles with a pony in some kind of improvised metal armour. My entire body is shaking as I levitate my water-gun over, and I dive out of my cover, shouting up a storm and spraying water in the direction of our attackers- Maybe if I can just distract them for a moment…--

Every nerve in my body is on fire. Clearly some giant I hadn’t seen took a swing at me; how else could I explain the absolute impact of something through my saddlebags, knocking the wind out of me yet again.

Whatever hit me, it got through my saddlebags, even if they did take most of the brunt of it. Agonising pain makes my vision blur, a burning, stabbing feeling settled between my ribs. I can feel a warm wetness spreading to my belly as blood pools there and drips to the floor, my mouth open in a silent cry as I stagger aside.

A vague glance to my right shows me what it was- A stallion, a raider, levitating a shotgun, the barrel smoking from a freshly fired shot. Far enough away not to shred me to pieces, but close enough to make an impact.

I don’t get to see much else as I slump to the ground behind the counter. I can hear Swing shouting and yelling, swearing and-

The light of a muzzle flash fills the room, and the griffon slumps over the counter, blood pooling out of her head. I slump to my side, vision blurring, remembering what got me here… An hour ago I was in my stable…

I fall entirely onto my side, catching sight of a photo that burst out of my saddlebags as they were punctured. My parents, and… and me as a baby.

Will I ever see them again…?

I hear heavy hoofsteps approach as my eyes finally shut, my entire body going numb from the pain and blood loss.

A voice reaches my ears.
“Swing ain’t breathin, boss.”

A hoof sharply kicks me in the stomach, and I wail in pain, blood coming to my lips. My eyes open, and I see the barrel of a shotgun levelled at my head.
“... Want me to finish this one, boss?” The stallion asks, looking over the counter at a pony I can’t see.
“Nah. She ain’t the target. Heat got’er good, anyway, she won’t be a problem.” Comes a voice. The one that had been shouting at Swing…

The stallion looming over me snickers, slinging his shotgun back into a holster by his side.
“Count yourself lucky, honey. Maybe this thing can help patch you up, hm?” He nudges my pip-buck mockingly, then turns, and disappears from view.

I hear the stallions talking as they leave the store, and silence overtakes the town once more. My breaths are raspy and laboured. I can feel my ribs poking my lung as I breathe, trying desperately to keep myself from going into shock.

Am I going to die here? Barely an hour out of my stable? What if they find my body here? What will dad think? And mom…

As I feel my thoughts scattering, I suddenly realise… My breaths aren’t the only ones filling the store. Raspy, laboured breathing is coming from…

Swing!

As I think it, the griffon slowly sits up, giving me a stomach-churning sight- A hole has been blown clear through the side of her head, under her eyepatch. It’s only about the width of my horn, but it’s still a worrying sight. At least it doesn’t look like any of her brain got caught in the shot…?

“Blast and damn, curses and hell!” The griffon gasps out, punching her chest roughly.
“Thought they’d never up and leaveflee! Hate holdin’ my breath that long...”

Swing takes several deep breaths, staggering as she centers herself. She hasn’t noticed me yet…

I force myself to cough and splutter, catching her attention. She turns to me and swears, darting over.
“Stablesplit! Ya survived?! What kinda…” She glances at my ruined saddlebags, and the wound underneath them.
“... Hold tight, stablemare. Let’s hope ya have some greymatter in yer head and packed some doctorstuffs!” She rambles. I can’t even bother to reply as she carefully slides my saddlebags off, rummaging in the undestroyed one.

As I watch her, my vision swims, and I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.
“... My… my dad’ll… be real mad… if you let me…” I trail off, my words unheard as I finally fall unconscious.