//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: First Time? 
// Story: Diamond of the Capital Wasteland 
// by Speven Dillberg 
//------------------------------//

“Hey, Megan, how did the scavving go?”
“It’s a raider base,” Megan spat. “There must have been twenty of the bastards in there. I had to activate an old robot to distract them long enough for me to get away.” She let out a sigh. “Thank god they can’t shoot straight.”
“Yeah, that’s usually the case with raiders,” Moira mused, nodding her head. “Did you find the supplies?”
“Some old food in a bunch of fridges. The pharmacy was locked, though, had to look for the key.”
“So they keep the best things locked up?” Craterside Supply’s proprietor asked. When the blonde researcher nodded, she picked up a clipboard and scribbled something on it. “That seems like something important.”
At that moment Rarity chose to open the door. “Don’t just disappear like that!” she complained as she stepped inside the store. “I have no idea where anything is in this town!”
Moira and her store guard just stared at her. “Megan? Is that - ?”
“Yes she’s a unicorn, her name is Rarity, I found her ten minutes from town and I have no idea how she got there,” Megan rattled off a list of answers for questions she was sure Moira would have asked.
“What a... charming place,” Rarity muttered as she took in the murky surroundings. 
“Yeah, it’s not much, but it works for me.”





“Honestly, Moira was like a combination of Twilight and Pinkie.”
The others stared at the named mares. “That... how?”
“Twilight’s love for knowledge and Pinkie’s... Pinkie-ness. Very nice, though.”





“Megan, this is for you.” Moira pulled out a strange box-thing. On top was some sort of fan, and one side was consisted of a large grill.
“Wow, thanks,” Megan said warily, taking the device. “I’ve always wanted one of these?” she added.
“You don’t even know what that is.”
As the field researcher turned to shoot a glare at Rarity, Moira laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I never expected you to know. Which is why it comes with an instruction manual!” She pulled out a tattered booklet, which Rarity took with her magic.
“Tastee Cleen Sanitizer?” she muttered as she read it. “Removes harmful bacteria from food and drink?”
“Wait, really?” Megan looked at the machine she held with shock. “You’re fine just giving this thing to me? It’s gotta be worth thousands!”
“Actually, these things are pretty common. Normally, I’d sell it to Moriarty or the Brass Lantern, but their sanitzers are still fine. I should get another in a few weeks. Take it. You deserve it!”
“Wow, um, I don’t know what to say.” 
“Thank you so much.” Rarity spoke up, filling the void left by Megan’s speechlessness. “You are far too kind.”
“Oh stop it,” Moira replied bashfully. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“So, what’s next?” Megan asked, still clutching the food sanitizer. 
“Oh, right.” The shopkeeper cleared her throat. “The last part of Chapter 1 involves explosives.”
“Oh boy.”
“It won’t be that bad.”
“That’s what you said about Super-Duper Mart. And the radiation poisoning. So far, I’ve been slightly mutated and shot at.” To make her point, Megan raised her right hand. Rarity hadn’t noticed it before, but the skin on the back seemed deformed, as though it had been melted. How the woman wasn’t in pain was beyond her.
“I said I was sorry about that!” Moira replied, upset that her assistant was bringing that up. “And it won’t be as bad this time!”
“Really?” Megan shot back sceptically.
“Honest! No-one goes anywhere near where I’m sending you.”
“Surely there’s a good reason for that,” Rarity chipped in, having finished reading the booklet.
“Everyone thinks the place is haunted,” came the dismissive reply. “But everyone knows there’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“Where exactly are you sending me, anyway?” Megan asked, leaning against the counter.
“A place called Minefield.”
“Minefield.” A flat stare was all Moira got from her beleaguered researcher. “You want me to walk into a place called Minefield. What part of this seems like a good idea to anyone?”
“There are plenty of explosives there, and the place is deserted. The only problems you’ll have is walking there and back.”
“And just how far is Minefield from here, anyway?”
Moira bit her lip as she tried to recall. “About a four hour walk, I think. Maybe five. It’s north-east of Megaton, too.”
Megan sighed. “Well, I’ll get going tomorrow then.”
“Thank you,” she cheerfully replied. “Bring me back a landmine to pull apart, and there’ll be something extra for you.”
“Before I go, though, two things.” The old assault rifle was laid down on the counter. “Can you take a look at this thing for me? I honestly have no idea just what condition this thing is in.”
“Easy,” Moira replied smugly. “What’s the second?”
“You have something Rarity can wear?”
Rarity and Moira both gave her weird looks. The mare was the first to speak up. “I appreciate the sentiment, but...”
“I don’t exactly have anything for a unicorn,” the woman added. “I mean, I could modify something, but that could take days.”
“Oh, I can do that myself.” Rarity sounded incredibly proud. “I’m a dressmaker back... home...” Her voice trailed off when she realised what she had said. “Oh no. My friends. My family. They must be so worried.”
“What’s she talking about?” Moira whispered. 
“When she woke up, she thought she’d been kidnapped.”
“How am I going to get back!?” she wailed. 





“Rarity?”
“Leave me alone!”
Dammit, Rarity, it’s not healthy!”
“I don’t care!”
Megan groaned and slumped against the door. “Do you want to come with me or not?”
“Why would I want to do that!?”
“At least you’re not crying anymore,” the woman muttered. “Because I figure you might want to find out about where you are,” she said louder. “And I could really use someone to watch my back.”
The door to the spare room creaked open and Rarity poked her head out. She glared at her with red eyes and a tear-stained face. “You... trust me that much?”
“Well... I don’t exactly know anyone else, so...”
“I’m your only option?” she asked unhappily. “Well, I guess you’re right,” she sighed. “Sitting here moping isn’t going to get me anywhere.”
“Great.” Megan’s voice held so much relief it was almost tangible. “Moira had this lying around, too.” She held up the bundle of dark clothing. 
Rarity took it in her magic and held the garments out. “Ugh, this is terrible. You expect me to wear this?”
“Your white coat stands out. This’ll help hide that,” Megan reasoned. “And you won’t get as dirty with something on.”
“Fine,” Rarity conceded. “I suppose it’s only sensible. I’ll need fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, on the dot, the mare stepped out, wearing a modified leather jacket, a number of belts wrapped around her body to keep the clothing from hanging loosely. Covering her hindquarters and rear legs were a pair of altered jeans, more belts keeping the cloth close to her legs. “Well, this turned out much better than expected, I’ll admit.”
Megan looked at the mare and nodded. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” she asked. “Not bad?” The unicorn let out a laugh. “For something done without any of my usual equipment, not to mention the difference in species, I’d say I’ve done well.” She kicked out with a hind leg. “Still not used to wearing pants, though,” she muttered, rubbing the old denim self-consciously. “Can’t see why mother insists on...”
“Rarity?” Megan asked warily.
“I... I’m okay.”
The woman could see that the pony was lying, but decided to play along. “Well, you’ll need this too.” She held out a 10mm pistol, holster and all, expecting Rarity to take it.
“What is that?” the mare asked.
Megan was dumbfounded. “You don’t know what a gun is?”
“A gun?” she asked innocently.
“Umm... A weapon.” The reaction for this piece of information was not one she expected.
“You want me to carry a weapon?” Rarity’s voice was calm, but the anger in her voice was clear. “No, I am not going to do such a thing.”
“I’m not asking you to murder anyone!” Megan defended herself. “It’s for self-defense!”
“I have my magic for that, thank you very much.”
“What if your magic doesn’t do anything to whatever attacks us?” That argument shut the mare up quickly. “I know that that gun will most definitely work. We won’t know with your magic, and you could get killed trying to find out.” Megan took a quick breath before using her next point. “You want to get home alive, right?”
“Of course I do!” she spat vehemently. “Somehow, though, I get the feeling that staying here would be safer then.”
Megan backpedalled quickly. “Hey, you want me to die out there?” she asked, attempting to appeal to her sense of guilt. “I’m the only one you actually know, and Simms is liable to kick you out if I don’t come back.”
That was enough to sway the mare. She took the holster and attached it to her outfit. “Fine. I won’t use it unless I have to, though.”
“That’s all I need to hear,” Megan replied in relief. 





“That was... kind of cold.”
“Yes, but she was concerned for her safety. I honestly can’t be angry at her.”





“This is a river?” Rarity practically screeched as she waded through the puddles of what was left of the Potomac.
“Well, it was.” Megan shook her foot to get the sludge off, her assault rifle bouncing against her back. “I wouldn’t drink that if my life depended on it.”
“Likewise,” the unicorn muttered. She looked around the blasted countryside, looking at the dust and dirt. “What could inspire anyone to do this?”
“No idea, Rarity.”
“And that school we passed. I do hope there was no-one in there when all this happened.”
Megan gulped. “No idea,” she lied. In truth, she had cleared the place out a few days earlier. Doc Church had to pull half a dozen bullets out of her legs and arms when she came back to town. The place had left her so very depressed that she even had whiskey from Moriarty’s Saloon, despite knowing that he pissed in the still. She just needed the drinks that bad.
They progressed in relative silence for a few hours. What time they did spend talking was Megan giving the unicorn a beginner’s course on gun use. “Just how much farther is it?”
Megan gave Rarity a strange look. “I honestly expected you to ask that a lot earlier,” she answered as she climbed up the hill. 
“Moira did say four hours,” the mare said with an eyeroll. “Surely it’s been longer than that.”
“Yeah, about four and a half.” The woman froze and put her hand out suddenly. “Shh.”
“Why? What’s happeni - mhh!” Her question went unfinished as Megan put her hand over her mouth.
“What the fuck are we even doing out here anyway?”
“I don’t know. How about you ask Tim? Oh, that’s right, you’re a fucking coward.”
“Both of you, shut up,” came a third, much more forceful voice. There was something definitely male about it “I’ll shoot both of you.”
“We know you ain’t got the balls for that,” the first voice replied. It had been hard to tell at first, but it belonged to a female. 
“As for what we’re doing here,” the third voice said, seemingly having ignored the first, “Tim wants us to make sure no-one goes near the old scrapyard. No fucking idea why he wants that shithole, but a cockmunch like you doesn’t need to know.”
“Raiders,” Megan hissed at the unicorn. “Rapists and murderers, all of them.”
“Rapists? Murderers?” Rarity’s eyes went wide with panic.
Megan carefully unslung her assault rifle. “Walk away. Just walk away...” she muttered. “For the LOVE of god, walk away...”
“What are we going to do?” The mare looked around, trying to find a way out or a place to hide. The only thing that would work as concealment was a dry, dead bush about fifty yards away.
“If they walk away, nothing. If they find us...” The woman pulled back the bolt of her rifle and rested the stock against her shoulder. “We fight back.”
“Fight back?”
“I don’t like it either, okay?” Megan’s hands shook. “But it’s us or them. And I’d rather it’s us that walk away alive.”
“Hey, did you guys hear that?” The second voice, another male one, was worryingly close to where they were. 
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I swear I heard voices.” Now, footsteps could be heard approaching. “I think they were over here.”
A man with tan skin, short black hair and wearing scrap metal, spikes and tattered leather came into the pair’s view. Half a second after they saw him, he saw them. “Holy shit!”
Megan opened fire, sending a six-round burst right into the raider’s gut. The man fell heavily, but the gunfire drew the man’s friends.
“Hey, over here!”
“No-one shoots my buddy but me!”
As the other two raiders, wearing clothing a lot like their now-deceased friend, came into view. Again, Megan opened fire, this time emptying the rest of the rifle’s magazine in their direction. Unfortunately, only one of them, the woman, fell. The man took two bullets in the arm but kept on coming, a lead pipe in his hand. “You fuckers!” he screamed, apparently not noticing that one of them was a unicorn.
As Megan fumbled with the reload, four gunshots sounded. As the raider fell, two bullets lodged in his throat, one through his eye, she turned to Rarity.
The unicorn stood there, her pistol levitating in front of her face, perfectly still. On her face was a terrified, horrified expression. “I... I killed him. I just killed him.”