Fallout Equestria - The Mirror Project

by Senwyn1

Stage 1: Starting with a Bang

A gloomy grey haze fell across the wastes, illuminated only by the scattering of stars above and a pale, sickly moon hanging in the sky. Nights grew cold in the wastes, sending most ponies scurrying for shelter from the dark and those lurking in it, and the fires at the slaver camp were like flares in the darkness; beacons of warmth and heat that lured the unfortunate and the opportunistic. Most of the slavers were asleep, curled up under a large makeshift metal shelter on half eaten mattresses and rags piled in heaps. Their weapons were slumped at their sides, never far from reach and even in sleep their hooves and mouths twitched, firing at invisible foes.

Outside, two slavers remained statioary, guarding the slave pen where 11 scrawny, shivering ponies huddled in the corner of a concrete ruin, talking in soft murmurs as the old comforted the young and young warmed the old. There were talks of escape, but of course it was a pipe dream. If any tried to run, they’d barely make six metres before they were sniped down. The captured knew this and so did their captors, laughing and joking at the fire as they warmed their hooves. Two sticks poked into the fire with squirrels speared on the ends, sending the stink of burning flesh drifting out across the camp-site.

“Good haul, this time around” the male grinned, a green earth pony with a toothed blade on his flank. “Eh, scrawny bunch if you ask me” the female replied, a dark purple unicorn with a dollar symbol wrapped around a spade for a cutie mark, “Some of them are only good for road kill”. The earth pony shrugged. “We’ll get a good price for them” he said confidently, smirking over his shoulder at the clump of ponies. “The colosseum will take them. They’re always itching for new bait for their little beasties.”

The unicorn laughed, reaching for one of the sticks. Viciously, she tore a clump of meat from the squirrel, wolfing it down in a couple of gulps. “Maybe they’ll throw in a few tickets” she added hopefully, “Haven’t seen a fight for a few months now.” The earth pony grinned and patted her on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it” he declared with a smile, “If we get all them back in one piece, I’ll treat ya. Call it a date, Gold Digger.”

Gold Digger smirked, twirling the stick in her hooves and poking the earth pony with it. “And why do you think I’d want to date you, Chainsaw?” she purred as she ran her stick across his throat, leaving a faint mark. Chainsaw opened his mouth and a bullet flew in, cutting cleanly through the back of his throat and digging into the soil behind him. Gold Digger barely had a chance to let out a yell of surprise when a second bullet kissed her scalp, sweeping through her frontal lobe and out through the back, sending a spray of bone shards and blood onto the floor.

Gurgling as blood drained into his throat, Chainsaw collapsed onto the ground, struggling with his hooves to kick something, to make a noise, to warn the others. But it was no good. The snipe was the signal and Ratchet was on him, shoving a blade into his eye as she slammed her hoof down on his throat, squishing the air out of him. She was a stout earth pony with beige fur and a magenta mane, cut into a sharp bob. Cutiemark was her namesake, not that you could see it hidden behind two bulging saddlebags.

She’d snuck around behind them while they talked, using the walls of the buildings as cover while they were focusing on the squirrel. Then she’d just waited for Orion to get into position. The ghoul was still on the ridge, rifle pressed against her eye as she watched for any signs of the other slavers making a move. Of course, Ratchet was going to kill them either way, but there was something beautiful about doing it undetected.

Acting quickly, Ratchet dragged the two corpses out of sight, rubbing her hoof on the ground to hide the blood. She waved at the slaves to keep them quiet, turning with a small grin on the hut where the other slavers slept. How bloody convenient of them to sleep in one place. She’d leave them a thank you note if they weren’t going to be too dead to read it. She flipped open her saddle bag with a deft bite of her teeth, shoving her head inside until she received a round metal disc with a flashing yellow light on the top. Crouching down, she approached the hut as silently as possibly, tiptoeing lighting on her hooves. For a few minutes, she stood outside, fiddling with the round disc until the light turned red. Then she dumped it in front of the entrance and ran away, counting under her breath.

Five
Four
Three
Two
ONE!

The hut and earth tore apart as the disc exploded, sending bits of fur and flesh and metal flying in all directions in a spray. Ratchet burst out laughing as she watched the newly made flesh geysor, using a piece of metal as a guard against any stray limbs. Once the coast was clear, she trotted back to the cage, eyeing the frightened ponies inside. They shied away from her, edging closer to the wall as if she was a deathclaw bearing down on them. “Just a bit of fire and smoke” Ratchet called, “Gotta be dramatic in these things, right? I’m not going to hurt you, so get your asses out here and we can leave this god forsaken place already.” Her wonderfully thought out piece of peptalk didn’t help, as they just cowered even further into the corner, trembling against each other. Letting out an irritated snort, Ratchet scratched her scalp with one hoof. Bunch of pussies.

“Plenty of decorum as always” a mocking voice commented behind her and Ratchet turned with a grin to see the flaky, half rotten ghoul strolling towards her, rifle cocked over one shoulder. The unicorn ghoul flicked one ear to bat a fly away and scrutinised the slaves for a few moments. “Sorry little bunch” she commented dry, “Nice going with the fireworks, by the way. Way to attract every raider within five miles.” The ghoul’s appearance didn’t exactly comfort the prisoners, who were starting to let out whimpering moans as if their personal slice of hell had turned from hopeless to nightmarish.

Ratchet smirked, lifting her foot and examining the hoof innocently. “Why, whatever do you mean, Orion?” she replied, as a piece of metal crashed down behind her. Orion sniggered then pointed her horn at the lock. A muddy brown glow coated the mechanism and Orion frowned, fiddling with it for a few moments before it gave way and the gates creaked open. “Well, you heard what Ratchet said” she snapped, stomping into the cage, “Move your asses. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us and we can’t afford to waste time here.” If an earth pony with a penchant for making things explode didn’t get them moving, a ghoul with a temper and a gun sure did. The snivelling ponies scurried out, standing in a lost huddle next to them. Some held their collars tightly with both hooves, as if afraid their heads would explode just for leaving the cage. Of course, Orion’d already disabled that little gizmo, but they weren’t to know that.

Ratchet eyed each of them like a piece of meat, calculating how much they’d get for these ones. Bit scrawny, bit underfed but otherwise good condition. The freedom lot would be pleased to see them. With a grin at the thought of the bits, she turned to follow Orion, stopping as she spotted a rather nonchalant little door in the side of the slave pen.“Hmm? Hold up, Orion, I’m checking this thing out.” The ghoul glanced back, rifle levitating at ease by her side, and gave a sharp nod as her sharp eyes scoured the hills, looking for any issues.

Ratchet approached the door and bent down, peering through the keyhole. She could just about see a body on the floor and somepony else huddled in the far corner, though friend or foe was impossible to tell. Well, the one rule of bounties was open every lock because you never knew which head was on the other side of the door. Could be worth a fortune! Wiggling the handle with one hoof, she let out a wry grin. “Locked” Ratchet crowed, “As if a lock is good for anything.” Ratchet turned and slammed her two back hooves into the wooden door, feeling the lock falter under the force of her blow. It was a tried and tested method and besides, there were few things that could withstand the force of two power hooves on a pony. She shoved against the door again and it reluctantly squeaked open into a grey, tiled room.

The room was square, small and crumbling away at the edges. The centre piece was a table and some vicious looking tools. A bone saw, a pair of pliers, a serrated knife. The walls were stained with mold and moss crept between the cracks in the tiles, mixing with a splatter of red blood that was still gleaming on the floor. The source was a recently killed corpse, oozing blood from a bullet to the brain. There were still traces of the grey, spongy brain matter congealing behind his skull. Lovely. Ratchet approached it warily, in case the damn thing was set to explode or something. It was probably some poor slave that had been subjected to some usual raider fun, but you could never be too careful. Gripping a knife between her teeth, she nudged it with her hoof and flipped it over, eyeing the face. A rather filthy looking nobody. Worthless.

“Who…Who are you?”

Ratchet turned her head sharply, looking in the direction of the voice. In the far corner of the room, a small canary yellow pony crouched, staring at Ratchet from behind an electric blue mane. Judging by her fright and the chains on one hoof, she was a slave like the rest. “That’s my question, sweetheart” Ratchet replied curtly with a suspicious look over the pony. “On your feet. I need to see if you have any weapons on you.” The pony stumbled to her feet and a blood soaked knife dropped from her hooves to the floor in a clatter. At the sound, she flinched and cowered against the wall, shivering with her eye closed. Ratchet slowly approached, kicking the knife away with one hoof and glanced over at the corpse.

“You killed him?” she asked frankly, looking back at the pony. Now she could get a good look at her face, Ratchet saw that she was a pretty little thing. Her mane was long and tied deftly on one side, with a sharp fringe that covered her left eye entirely. The visible eye was sky blue, wide open and moist with tears, framed by big black lashes. Very pretty indeed. A beautiful mare and a filthy old slaver lying dead on the floor. Ratchet thought she knew what had happened, though she had no idea how the poor thing had gotten that knife. Snagged it off the slaver, most likely.

“He attacked you” Ratchet said, glancing at the corpse again then back at the tearstained face., “Didn’t he? That’s why you’re in this room.” The unicorn hesitated, staring at Ratchet then nodded once, a couple of tears dribbling down her face. Fair enough then, Ratchet thought. “Alright, well, don’t worry. You’re not in trouble. I’m here to free you guys” Ratchet said, “And we need to go. Leave the knife and the body and come with me. What’s your name anyway?” The pony flinched and looked down at the ground, no longer meeting Ratchet’s gaze. Ratchet frowned suspiciously, tightening her grip on the knife again.. “What, your name is a secret or something?” she leered, peering at her, ”I don’t like secrets, missy. Don’t make me leave you behind for the dogs.”

That made the canary sing. The yellow mare swallowed and looked up, smiling weakly. “It’s Wagtail” she said sadly in a warm, melodious voice, “Just Wagtail. Like my cutiemark” She turned slightly to reveal a small blue bird in flight on her flank. In its mouth was a scroll, so Ratchet guessed this pony was some kind of unlucky courier. They always ended up dead quicker than the rest. “Nice to meet you, Wagtail” she replied smoothly, “My name is Ratchet and I’ll be your guide for today. Let’s move.”

Wagtail nodded once and gingerly stepped over the body, trotting after Ratchet with ears flicked back. She stepped blinking into the light, cowering as her eyes fell on the mouldy unicorn waiting for her, pieces of skin falling to the floor. “Uh…ah” the mare stammered, trying to turn around, but Ratchet was at her rear, pushing her straight out towards the rest of the slaves. They glanced at her then looked away, each eying their hooves as they edged away from the new comer. Ratchet grinned as she came out, nudging Wagtail in front of her with her head. “Watch out, we got a feisty one here, Ori”” Ratchet commented, “Killed a slaver all on her own, didn’t you, mite?” Wagtail flushed, looking down at the floor, and Ratchet laughed, joining the ghoul. “Let’s go, shall we? Long walk to West Mareton.”

Author's Note:

My first attempt at an MLP fanfic! All comments are appreciated, especially anything on improving my writing style. Next part will be up soon as I currently have around 10k words of the story written. Thanks! ~Senwyn