//------------------------------// // Chapter One: The Wastelander, Part One // Story: Fallout Equestria: Mirrors // by Tyo //------------------------------// Link to Google Document Chapter One: The Wastelander, Part One “Great kid, don’t get cocky!” I’ve been traveling the wastes for what felt like hours. It must’ve been. Time can’t possibly take this long! No matter how bored I got, there was nothing to do but trot along this road. It led to some town I couldn’t remember the name of, so why not head there first? While it was supposed to be an uneventful journey, the wasteland never let you go as planned. Soon enough, I stumbled upon... a lot of dead ponies. There were at least a half dozen. They had obviously fought to the death, but all I saw were obviously raiders. You don’t find raiders kill raiders too much, so that wasn’t likely, especially when they all had the cracked skull mark on the side of their faces that represented their gang. This one in particular had an interesting name... The Buck-Heads. They were, as the name implied, obsessed with the drug known as Buck. Not a single dead pony amongst them hadn’t the mark. Well, there was one still alive. All four of his legs were broken, but he seemed to hardly feel it. He was just minding his own business, gorging himself with the remains of one of his comrades. I looked at the scene in disgust. I bit the handle of a displaced cleaver and jammed the sharp object into the back of the cannibalistic buck’s head. He spasmed a bit before he went limp. After I made sure none of the others were alive, and they weren’t, I looted their valuables. Now that’s something you don’t see ever. These ponies weren’t looted. I knew they were fresh killings; that buck was still alive and on his first serving of dead pony after all. But nopony would leave any possible loot behind. I shrugged it off; more loot for me. I collected a few more caps, poorly-handled firearms and some ammo, and something interesting... A plasma pistol. The plasma-type weapons were similar to beam-type in that they both used crystals as ammunition. But, beam weapons were much faster in terms of rate of fire. Plasma weapons were slower but more powerful per shot. That’s how I understood it after my session the day before, anyway. It was in fine condition, too... According to my Pipbuck. This thing was great. It even had values for whatever I pick up in caps! It also had Eyes-Forward Sparkle. Which came in handy right then and there when I noticed an orange rectangle on its display creeping about behind a rock. I unsheathed my 10mm pistol with my mouth after yelling out, “Alright, come on out!” A larger figure came into view. A gruff buck; dirt brown coat, darker brown mane. Earth Pony. He wore barding and donned a black fedora. He held his own 10mm.... Sub-Machine Gun...! In his mouth. He spoke surprisingly clearly, with a deep accent. “Either ya ‘ave the eyes of an eagle with a fuckin’ telescope or y'all're from a stable.” I also noted the almost cliche scar right under his eye, slanted on his cheek. I decided neither fighting him nor putting the gun away were smart moves... I tried talking, but what came out was mostly gibberish. He simply narrowed his eyes. After a very tense moment, for me at least, they widened as he noticed my young age. He sent his gun to its holster and I relaxed. “Boy, spit that thing out before ya hurt somepony. ‘N what the Sam Hill didja say?” With a sigh of relief, I holstered my own weapon. “I said I’m neither... I just happen to have a Pipbuck.” He looked over at the raiders warily before asking, “Ya did this?” I blinked and shook my head no. “I just got here. One of the sick bastards was still alive and eating a dead mare, though.” “Did ya loot ‘em?” “...Y-yes.” “Damn shame. Twas a job, y’see. I’structions said ta kill ‘em, but not ta loot them...” I gulped. Did I have something he wanted? “Eh, whatever...” Awkward silence. This silence lasted a few moments; I just stood there still a little uneasy with my new ‘acquaintance’. He finally broke it again. “What’s your name, boy?” I hesitated for the slightest moment, “Rain.” His mood seemed to lighten. “If that's yer name... That’s yer name. I would’ve called ya somethin’ else though. Ya c’n call me... Lander.” “That was a... massive change in mood there, Mister Lander.” “I follow my instincts and they say y'all're a good kid.” I was certain he was lying one way or another, but I didn’t care too much. If he wanted something he could take it from me easily. And he’d be red on my EFS if he meant immediate harm. “An’ it’s just Lander.” “Well, I hope I’m entitled to a few questions myself now. You said something about a job?” I asked, eyes narrowing. “Eyup. I’d normally jus’ be travlin’, but I d’cided to take a job. So like I said, the pony who wanted ‘em dead wanted ‘em left alone after they were. Somepony must’ve known ‘bout the job else they would’ve looted ‘em. So, somepony won’t be happy about some youngin stealing their liveli work.” He paused as I frowned ever so slightly. Well, fuck. First day out in the wasteland and somepony likely wants me dead... or they will, anyway. “Okay, c’mon with me.” He began, decidedly, “I ‘ave other jobs, ya look fresh to the wasteland and won’t last another week on yer own. Help me with my jobs, we’ll split the caps, and ya won’t die.” Well, being with somepony who looked to have years of wasteland experience while earning caps sounded good. Albeit, it was pretty much the only option there was to take. Sure, this could end badly, but this was the fucking Equestrian wasteland... What couldn’t? “Sure.” *** * *** Lander’s next job was a … Rescue mission. Seriously? Lander didn’t give me the impression of a heroic character, but that was the job all the same. A former slave apparently had to leave his family behind when he escaped himself. He wanted them back, or at least their bodies. The slaves in question were a blue colt without a cutie mark yet, and a purple mare with a bundle of carrots as her cutie mark. They were named Paperback and Table Salt respectively. After a few hours of travel, we arrived on a hill overlooking an average-sized camp. He unsheathed his SMD and said almost creepily clearly, “Ready?” How this pony talked so normally with the handle of a gun in his mouth was beyond me. “Yup.” I replied as I brought my own gun to bear- the pistol again. I decided to play it conservatively with Mane. On the count of three, we jumped from our superior ground. I activated the Stable-Tec Auto-Targeting Spell- S.A.T.S.- and a very organized firing queue came up as the world came almost to a halt. The system had seven ponies as targetable. Six slavers, plus Lander. I queued up five shots, depleting the spell’s magic; three to the face of a surprised-looking unicorn mare right below me, not even fetching her weapon I clearly saw in its holster and a bulky buck two yards the the right of her, coming out of a tent. The first shot missed, hitting dirt and zooming past her head. The second grazed her cheek on the opposite side, blood trickling out the trivial wound. The third... shot half her face off! A damn lucky hit. The two aimed at the buck hit, but the seemed to have been stopped by his barding. S.A.T.S. ended as I hit the ground with four simultaneous clops. I merely glanced at the dead mare missing half her face, collapsing to the ground... blood pooling beneath her skull... Brains easily seen, slowly moving out to join the gore beneath her. The glance had turned into a stare by now. Her wide eyes- eye, dammit...-still had that same surprised look. I hadn’t noticed the one-sided carnage around me as Lander slew most every pony not in shackles or cages. I hadn’t noticed the buck I shot grabbing a sledgehammer. I hadn’t noticed him running towards me. I hadn’t noticed when his head exploded and his blood sprayed in my face. I just store into the gaping hole on the side of the face of the mare I just killed. I was finally slapped by a brown hoof. I shook my head, snapping out of the gore-induced trans. “Huh? What?” I blinked rapidly, regaining my awareness of the world. “Oh.. Thanks...” He had a serious frown on his face. “What happened there? Ya almost kilt yerself!” I glanced -really, glanced this time- at the dead mare’s corpse. “I... I’ve never seen.... that before. I’ve shot at Raiders before but... that just seemed... wrong.” “The wastes git worse than that, kid. Ya have to suck it up, at least while yer life is at stake.” Lander said, with a hint of frustration. I remembered what dad told me before we split. I had to survive... That wasn’t gonna happen if I freeze as soon as I see blood spill. That’s where it began I think. The slow dissent... however, the decision in retrospect hadn’t been stupid. It had saved me a few times; acting without thinking was required every once in awhile it turned out. “Yeah, it won’t happen again.” For now, the issue was dropped. The job said nothing regarding the slaver’s belongings, so I began looting as Lander freed the slaves looking for the mare and her son. Then, I noticed how good my new companion was at killing. There were more than just the half dozen I saw initially. And they were decimated. Some of the ponies were dead before they could get a shot off; their guns were still mostly fully loaded. Those that had looked to have missed; Lander was unscathed... The slavers had a solid supply. A few hundred caps. Lots of guns; too much for me to carry in fact. I took out another repair book dad left for me and began lessening the weight by picking out the best parts of some guns and repairing others with it. Aside from that, there was lots of ammo, some healing potions, an assortment of drugs, a note, which I didn’t care too much for but tossed it in my bag anyway, and... What the hay? A beam rifle? This looked different, though. Something had been added to it, but I lacked the knowledge of energy weapons to put my hoof on it. I grabbed it and dropped it in my saddle bag. The Pipbuck labeled it, ‘beam splitter rifle”. I decided now was a good moment to test my three energy weapons. The plasma pistol shot out something like... projectile liquid. It was green and generally weird. The beam rifle sliced the air with two beams that flew side-by-side uniformly. No question why it was called a beam splitter rifle. I accidentally hit a dead slaver mare... She consequently turned into ash. I put both away, taking out Mane. It used the same ammo as the beam rifle, just as dad said, so I decided I’d use Mane primarily. Combining it with the other beam rifle was out of the question; I had no idea how to handle the weird attachment on it. Mane shot out a blue beam that streaked through the night. Incidentally, it too hit a dead pony. That pony... unexpectedly turned into a blue gooey substance. Energy weapons were weird... But... SO. FREAKING. AWESOME. I wondered if I’d be able to make the beam on Mane separate into two like the beam splitter rifle... that’d make it officially 20% cooler. I packed it back up in my bag with its energy weapon brethren and trotted back to Lander. “Found them?” “Eyup,” he motioned his head to two ponies; a purple mare and a blue colt just like the description said. “Let’s hurry and get going.” I looked at the remaining free slaves. They’d just get caught again if we left them defenseless, wouldn’t they...? “Eh, I don’t like guns anyway.” I unpacked my small arsenal I collected throughout the camp, and laid them out on the floor in front of them. “But don’t make me regret it.” And with that I caught up with Lander and our two... clients I guess? We headed to the nearby road, a sign by it reading ‘Baltimare: five miles away’. Footnote: Karma Gained *** * *** I really started to dislike traveling; it was tedious! There was nothing to do except walk! Why couldn’t the wasteland come with honorary trains or something? It gives ponies all the worst possible terrors and environments, and just to spite us we have to walk everywhere. In light of this, I tried to spark conversation with our ‘clients’. “So, uh, what’s your story?” I asked the average-sized Purple earth pony mare. Given a better look, I saw she had a pink mane with various bluish streaks about it. “Oh, ah... You know my name, right? Table Salt. We lived in a little town called Promm. It was recently taken over by bandits. Those who didn’t hole themselves up in the town’s motel were sold- that’s what happened to us... My husband was out hunting when it happened.” Just then, I heard the sound of a tin can being kicked right behind us. Instinctively, I jumped in front of Salt and her Colt. Lander already had his SMG out. “Who’s there?” I called out, readying my own sidearm. A figure came into view... When I say this pony looked like he hadn’t a minute of sleep in at least two weeks, I mean it. He was twitchy, he eyes had dark bags under them, and went lazy a few times. He started surprisingly calmly, looking at me without blinking despite the fact his eyes obviously wanted to shut. “You... You have something I want.” I immediately thought of the job at hand and glanced back at the mare and her son. “No, not... Not them... The lights...” Lights? “Uhh... what?” “Careful Rain, he looks like he could snap any second...” “The... Lights... Green and red... lights...” Drumroll proceeds.... Green? Red? The energy weapons? “What do you want with them...?” “Lights...” Almost there... “Yes, but-” “Lights!” Annnnd... “But-” “LIIIIGHTSSS!” Snap. He jumped at me. I don’t know how I thought of it at the time, maybe pure instincts? Whatever made me do it, I grabbed one of the very underappreciated guns the raiders had from way back at the above-ground graveyard with my mouth and smashed it against the crazy pony’s face. He hit the floor, out cold. Lander gave me an odd look. “Why not shoot 'im?" “I dunno... I just... did something. I wasn’t really thinking.” I replied, not taking my eyes off the unconscious insane pony. “Well, you check up on our precious cargo, I’ll tie him up and see what he wants with the lights when he wakes up...” With a nod, I trotted off to them. *** * *** The crazy pony woke up several hours after the incident the incident that resulted in his unconsciousness. We had set up a decent camp for the night already when he came to. I think being unconscious helped him more than hurt him. He looked to be thinking somewhat coherently now. “What.. What is this?” He said, almost panicking at the rope binding his two front hooves and two back hooves together respectively. “You said something about lights?” I said, munching on a Radigator steak whilst sitting on a dead stump. “Wh- You’re the one who took them!” He fidgeted around in his bindings for a bit before giving up, still looking frustrated. “Shut up and explain already,” I said, rather bluntly. “What do you want with these weapons?” “I told you not to take them! I wrote it down and double checked after I double checked!” “You’re the one who put the job up?” Lander asked skeptically, “Figured you look... More sane with all those caps you wanted...” “They are mine! Give them to me!” He began struggling again, but with declining mental health it seemed. His eyes soon enough turned bloodshot as if his insane just... turned on. “I NEED THEM! GIVE THEM TO ME!” I got off the stump, getting ready to knock him out again. Perhaps more ‘sleep’ would... Wait, why was there blood everywhere all the sudden? I just looked blankly at the blown open carcass of the once crazy pony. Yup, he’s dead. But... why? Lander looked only a little dumbfounded. “There was an ‘xplosive in ‘im... Somepony wanted those weapons bad, ‘n was pro’ly usin’ this guy to get ‘em. No wonder he was so off.” I thought for a second before realizing that a corpse also meant nothing belonged to anypony on the pony’s body and began looting. That awarded a distinct ‘Are you serious?’ look from Lander but I shrugged it off. Wow, this Pony had a resounding nothing on him. All I found was a note. Eh, why not? I began reading. Alright Zig-Zag, this is your last chance. It couldn’t be helped, you’re an armed time bomb waiting to explode now. Get those weapons and get them fast. You have 48 hours. I like you, so I took the liberty of finding them for you. One is held by a group of raiders, the slavers have the other. Find somepony to do the dirty work for you, deal with it yourself, I don’t care. But you need to get it done this time. Seriously. If and when you find them, head to HQ. … That next part was scratched out, but it looks like it read “You remember, right?” It’s in the old weapons factory. You know the one, the Pre-War magic science thing. Get this done, I’d rather not hear that your chest exploded out from inside you in two days. Later. Scarecrow. Well that actually helped quite a bit. I told Lander what I found, as I put it in my bag. “Huh. I’ll look into this more when we get to Baltimare. Let’s get some rest and we’ll leave as soon as dawn comes... But ya get first night watch duty.” He said, flatly. “What? That’s-” I started, but he cut the protest off. “Ye're the help, ‘member? Plus, that piece o’ metal on yer hoof has better eyes than I.” “Ah, fine” I said in defeat. So then I sat there waiting... And waiting... Still waiting... Waiting is fucking boring... __________________________ Notes: Quest Completed: The Wastelander, Part One Quest Added: The Wastelander, Part Two Level Up! Perk Added: Bloody Mess Effect: Ponies and creatures you kill will often explode into a red, gut-ridden, eyeball-strewn paste. Fun! Oh, and you'll do 5% more damage with all weapons. Quest Perk Added: Junior Wastelander Effect: You have tasted the first dishes the wasteland has to offer! You’ve come to know that unexpected things are to be expected. As such, your PER shalt be increased by one! PER(4->5)