Chapter 2: Confusion, Randomness, or Curiosity?
The Lone Wanderer tripped onto the floor, again.
He couldn’t help but fall every five seconds, which is the same rate that the mothership shook vigorously. Ever since the supposed missile struck the hull, the whole space vessel was practically falling apart. Loud alarms buzzed while red lights converted the bright bridge to the red hue of alert. The Wanderer could hear the faint explosions from far sections of the ship.
“What the hell?”
Determined to figure out what was happening, he stumbled over towards the hologram after he rose up. He barely caught himself with the table after losing balance from a large tremor. He looked up at the hologram, where various parts were now blinking red; The engine room, the pipelines connecting to the front of the ship, and the sections below the bridge.
Strangely, the missile was still lodged into the bottom hull according to the hologram map. To the Wanderer, it looked like it was digging in deeper.
Damnit! I gotta get out of here, he thought while stumbling back through the living quarters.
The halls and floors shook with each new combustion. Closer explosions knocked the panels off of the ceiling and walls, exposing the rivers of wires and pipes that flowed underneath. The Lone Wanderer could not help but be impressed at the complex systems that allowed the mothership to stay afloat.
More explosions rocked the halls as the Wanderer spotted a group of radscorpions approaching from the distant doorways. He gave a sigh as his hand reached to the battery pack that he carried.
“Shouldn’t you guys…”
*Click!*
A small door opened on the bottom of the Wanderer’s battery pack, dropping out a small minigun that was connected to the inside using a thick wire. The Wanderer’s hands barely caught it as he brought it in front of himself.
“...Be trying to escape?”
The Wanderer held the weapon in a similar fashion to the Raider’s drone cannon. Instead of a glowing tip, there was a thick barrel of a gun. The hull was constructed with carbon-fibers and wire instead of alien steel and buttons. The Wanderer’s most powerful weapon; the Gatling Laser.
Whirring came from the gun as the radscorpions raised their tails and increased their pace. A swarm of red beams bursted from the barrel. The crimson rays scattered from the laser weapon, striking steel and scaly surfaces alike. The Lone Wanderer maintained control as he was able to land the majority of the lasers onto the shells of the scorpions. They were reduced to nothing but ashes just before they were able to make contact with him.
Now instead of running, he just walked down the corridors of the ship, holding the heavy gatling laser in his hands. Utilizing the full extent of the laser’s power, he demolished any sort of wasteland animal that crossed paths with him. He could not help but wonder why these creatures would still attack him when their environment was clearly falling apart. Explosions rumbled the alien vessel, causing the Wanderer to trip against the wall.
Getting back to his feet, he continued on his escape from the dying ship, only to arrive at a dead end. However, he had spotted two different hallways stretching to his left and right, and chose the latter. The Wanderer’s hidden eyes widened at a large, reptilian figure that walked in from one of the doors to his left. His heart sped up while he clenched the handles of his weapon tighter.
His shoulders drooped. “Really?”
The creature had thick, tan skin and walked bipedally. It starred at the Wanderer with its beady, black eyes and gnawing teeth. Horns stuck out from the sides of its head, but made themselves appear pathetic when one looked towards the crooked, razor-sharp claws of the monstrous form. It gave a loud, chilling roar before taking a step towards the Wanderer.
It lurched its long arms in front of itself as it took another step, this time with much more speed. The Wanderer’s laser whirred again as he slowly backed away from the behemoth. Crimson beams struck the Deathclaw’s hide, but did nothing to faze it and only left small circles of burnt flesh.
To the Wanderer, it only seemed to make it angrier.
The Wanderer’s eyes then narrowed to a lazier expression when he risked a glance behind himself.
“Really…”
From another doorway came yet another denizen of the Wasteland. Instead of balancing on two, thick legs, it crawled on all four of it’s hairy, curved legs with wicked claws. Its entire body was covered with dark taiga-wood fur that had stains of dirt and blood clustered around. Instead of a flattened face, it had a bloodied muzzle and drooled at the Wanderer’s presence with its chipped teeth and velvet red eyes.
A Deathclaw and Yao Guai? Fate really loves messing with me.
The Wanderer twirled around and blasted the Yao Guai, producing similar results as the Deathclaw, anger. Swearing through his helmet, he ceased to fire and wobbled back where he came from, counting on obtaining some time to formulate a plan.
But time wasn’t a luxury when he saw the two beasts meet at the intersection.
Initially, he had hoped that they would fight it out with each other first so he could had easy pickings and potentially make it out alive. But for him, no, they simply stared at each other before looking towards the Lone Wanderer.
He could swear that they nodded when they looked back at each other. They simultaneously announced their battle cry and charged for the man covered in power armor, who could only stare at his inevitable fate.
To those who are watching above, why do you hate me so much?
The Lone Wanderer’s life flashed before his eyes when he could see the wrinkles of the Deathclaw and glares of light from the Yao Guai’s fur.
Then another explosion occurred.
He lost his footing as the ceiling in front of himself bulged down, and fell on his back and watched as the thick ceiling panels collapsed onto the metal floor along with piles of broken technology.
The room became still as the Wanderer tapped the limbs of his body before an inaudible cheer. He stood up taking in a large gust of air with a hopeful grin.
*Phew!*
His ears barely picked up the Deathclaw’s and Yao Guai’s growls behind the blockage of fallen parts and buzzes of failing machinery. After examining his environment, he realized that his passage to the rest of the ship was also sealed.
With a short sigh, he turned and walked down the shaky halls to where he could only go back to: the bridge. The floors rumbled violently a minute later, as much as the ceiling did previously. He could hear the source from behind himself and turned to see the blocked hall.
Through his disorientated vision, he saw the pile of rubble shake. He watched with dull eyes when the piles of scrap fell through the newly-introduced floor that dropped them down into a black abyss.
“You’re kidding me…”
He looked back up to see a Deathclaw and Yao Guai eyeing the missing blockage, the missing floor, then the Wanderer. They all stood, without a single growl, still for several seconds as the two radioactive monsters examined the foot-long gap that separated beast from man. The Lone Wanderer’s hands hung below his waist with the gatling laser in a loose grip.
“Why are there SO MANY damn explosions!?” The Wanderer yelled.
***
***
“Why aren’t there ENOUGH damn explosions!?” The Courier flailed his arms above his head. “This is so boring!”
He hovered above his seat with his waist being loosely fastened to the chair via seatbelt. He crossed his arms while giving a grunt of discontempt. The Courier’s eyes narrowed at the poor visibility he was getting through the front window of the shuttle. Toaster fell asleep when the Courier lost at rock-paper-scissor.
He could very well see the gray hull, now revealed to be part of a very, very large vessel, up close. The nose of the shuttle shattered the metal plating, digging it in deeper, smashing pipes and circuits. The inside of the vessel’s hull was filled with the flashes of electricity, gases from leaking pipes and broken wires and energy cells. The bottom of the shuttle continued to roar, and increased roaring as the ship pushed further.
The Courier could see explosions inside of the giant vessel, but that was all the shuttle’s visibility could grant him. With a short groan, he pushed one of his buttons on his Pipboy and moved his head in closer.
“Alright guys, what do I do?” He asked.
*“Hey, uhh, did you get to the moon yet?”* Dr. 0 replied.
“No, not yet. I’m stuck in something huge, annoying, dull, and doesn’t have enough explosions! And for once it’s not the line for a midnight release!”
Dr. 0 contemplated with the other Think Tank.
*“Did you try turning it off and back on?”*
“Yeah……” The Courier said while his eyes shifted towards the central control systems where the ignition was at. Bullet holes were scattered around, and the metal plating was smashed in, revealing the colored wires that connected underneath. He whistled while looking away after a big jolt of electricity zipped from an open wire.
“Tried that… Didn’t work.”
His ears then picked up the hums of a flamer tank from below. He twisted himself in zero gravity to see a white Misty Handy hover towards him. It’s arms extended below it’s jet propulsions, making it a robotic version of a squid.
“Hang on for a moment...” The Courier said while bending his knees on the console directly above the robot. “Lemme say ‘hi’ to your cousin real quick and make sure he writes back. Keep going.”
His legs straightened, causing the Courier to launch himself towards the rapidly approaching Mr. Handy. He held his hands out with twitchy fingers as the robot’s buzzsaw whirred. He quickly drew out his Sonic Emitter and aimed towards the octo-bot. Nearly face-to-hull, it was then knocked out of the Courier’s hand by an arm of the Mister Handy.
*“Alright, who forgot to put the number before one on the keyboard?”* Dr. 0 said through the Pipboy. *“Not that I’m mad, but I now have no way letting anyone who I am when I type up reports!”*
“Oh. Ok. We’re gonna play it like that then!” The Courier swiftly grabbed the robot’s buzzsaw and flamer arms. The Mister Handy attempted to force those arms forward, but sweat and gritted teeth from the Courier shown it that it wasn’t going to be an easy task.
“Damn modder! You’re ruining my game!”
The Mister Handy waved its thin pincer arm in front of it’s central eye. “Tsk tsk! You are a grown man! You shouldn’t be playing with children toys!”
The Courier’s eyes shot open as his aggressive force lessened in his arms. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed while he grinded his teeth harder. The robot felt the Courier’s resistance grow tenfold and slowly became overwhelmed with human willpower.
“Childhood! Never! Dies!”
And the Courier then swung his head back before returning it with greater force, headbutting the Mister Handy’s main body. Neither of the two parties felt any pain, but the Courier’s grips on the robot ceased as the Mister Handy floated away lifelessly, before jumping back to life. The Courier rubbed his head as he watched the Mister Handy regain its levitational balance.
“...Except in those video games where I end up dying every ten seconds and just respawn back...”
Both floating in zero gravity, the Mister Handy zoomed towards the floating Courier. The Courier then drew Lucky, discharging rounds with sun-yellow glares. The robot’s armor remained intact as the bullets simply dented the thick plating.
“INSTRUCTION MANUAL?! YOU IDIOTS CAN’T EVEN INTERPRET ONE! I ALREADY KNOW EVERYTHING THERE IS TO KNOW ABOUT SCIENCE WHILE YOU CLOWNS NEED TO REFER TO A KINDERGARTENER'S STORYBOOK!” Dr. Klein yelled from the Courier’s Pipboy.
The Courier returned Lucky to his belt as the Mister Handy took a swipe at him with the buzzsaw. While he managed to swing his body out of the way, he was defenseless against being slugged with the Handy’s pincer.
The Courier flipped in zero gravity until he splattered himself against the bright wall. With his feet barely hovering above the wall, he rubbed his neck to see the Mister Handy maneuvering towards his position. He drew his Q-35 rifle from his back and aimed above himself.
He discharged several snot-green blobs of plasma. “The wild robot used ‘slug’. My turn at last!” He smiled.
He sprung himself away from the wall, firing rapidly at the Mister Handy. Several projectiles managed to strike the robot, causing it to take considerable damage to the plating. His hand formed the grip of something round and reached for his belt. He felt only nothing but bare leather and polymers, and groaned.
“Oooh, why can’t those miniature storage containers exist?”
The Courier then swung the rifle, striking the robot’s hull making it float away again. The Courier slowly followed the Mister Handy as it regained balance.
“@@@{!@$$#@$!$!}!@@!” 8 spoke through the Pipboy.
“Jeez, don’t you guys…” The Mister Handy swooped over in front of the Courier, flamethrower arm hissing. A wave of flame erupted from the Mister Handy as the Courier took hold of one of the other arms and pulled himself underneath. “...Ever run out of juice?”
He swung like a monkey as he kicked the hover tanks of the robot. With a loud clang, one of them stopped emitting shimmering air and the Mister Handy spun away, out of control.
”...Gabe was just hungry! And as an apology between friend and friend, I have decided to resume our experiments! And being Gabe, she was hungry for knowledge! So I fed her some of the many tomes of science!”- Dr. Borous said through the Pipboy.
The Mister Handy lost momentum after slamming into the wall, and the Courier saw and seized the moment.
With a grin, the Courier reached for his belt. “Not a miniature storage device… But this will do.” His hand grasped for something round. Slugging his arm through the zero-gravity air, the Courier chucked the round object to the still Mister Handy.
“Eat this!”
No combustions occurred as the object only dinked off the robot’s metal hull. The Courier scratched his head while realizing that the round object was actually barbeque brown and was flat on two sides.
*”Ate the… Borous! We’re not grade schoolers! We’re intelligent, mature, scientist… People.”*
He slowly rubbed his chin with two fingers, recalling the time when he traded a hand grenade for several cans of pork and beans.
“Shit!” He said while looked up at the floating can.
“My fucking snack!”
With grinding teeth, he brought his Q-35 back into his two hands. Slimey orbs of glowing plasma sprayed across the chamber rapidly.
“You stay the hell away from that!”
The Courier placed his rifle in mid-air while he grasped Old Glory from his back and held it tightly as the Mister Handy raced back to him while spinning out of control. “If you wanna eat something…”
“Eat this!”
Within arm’s reach, the Courier clobbered the Mister Handy, scattering bits of the hull plating throughout the pilot’s chamber. The robot sputtered and buzzed as it tried to focus on the Courier, with Old Glory in his hands.
“You don’t mess with a man’s caps, you don’t mess with a man’s romance, and more importantly, you don’t mess with my damn snacks!”
-”Oh you just HAD to go there, didn’t you? Of all intellectual things that could be on my mind, Richie Marcus is jutted out in front. Now all the memories of American High are FLOWING straight back to me. Well how about this? At least I don’t hate Mr. House without purchasing hundreds of his goods!”-
*”We agreed to never discuss him here! Ever! Especially not since the lobotomite last came in here… Saying stuff about him… Uhh...”
-“...Winning?”-
*“Borous! You just said the two words I ever don’t want to see in the same sentence! That’s four, er… Two strikes! I’m going to do what Klein does to us all the time, IGNORING YOU!”*
*Ding!*
The sound of a small bell electronically rang through the Courier’s Pipboy. He looked towards it to see flashing zeros on the interface and back to his distant dufflebag, which was looping all around but remaining attached to the coat hanger.
The Courier shook his arms in front of his chest like a giddy schoolgirl. “Oh, it’s done!”
Taking hold of the metal bars along the walls, he shot himself up the pilot’s chamber, smashing the Mister Handy again with Old Glory in the process. He snatched his floating can and finally arrived at the black, pilot’s seat. He reached for his floating dufflebag when he felt the thin, metal arms grasp onto his leg.
He looked down at his feet to see the Mister Handy, now even more frenzied, curling its front, claw around his left leg. Half of its white hull was beaten or destroyed, revealing the thin, black skeleton of it. Several of the glowing, red eyes struggled to orient correctly. The flamethrower arm was twitching considerably. The Courier’s expression shot open when the Mister Handy pulled the Courier away, sending him flying down to the bottom of the chamber
“Cuuurssse yoooouuu Miiister Haaandddy!” His voice dragged on as he drifted farther away until a loud thump was heard.
“Ouch...”
The Courier cracked his neck and eagle-eyed the Mister Handy, who was now flying out of control. He hummed with disdain. His eyes shot up when the Sonic Emitter floated right into his view. He grabbed it midair with a large grin and narrowed eyes.
Quickly aiming the toy-like pistol, a flat, blue projectile flew with a low-frequency sound. Striking the Mister Handy, it buzzed, spazed and curled up its appendages. The Courier leaned back with a sigh of relief.
“And that’s why you don’t mess with my rampage...”
*Thump! Thump! Thump!*
Something knocked against the chamber door the Courier floated nearby. With the help of Old Glory, he was able to pull himself closer and opened the hatch to the cargo bay. After he looked what sought entrance, his eyes widened and his grin grew into a wide, open smile.
“Stripe!”
***
***
Twilight scanned the night sky from her balcony, sitting comfortably in the cold glow of the stars and moon. She looked deeply through her telescope again, gazing at the twinkling stars more closely. She could not help but admire night sky in its blanket of midnight blue. Ever since Luna came back, she took more appreciation for the time that it wasn’t day.
Her purple ears raised to the sounds of the floorboard squeaking. Not in a loud, disturbing way nor the tiny feet of a mouse. She turned casually to see her groggy assistant wobbling inside with a glass cup in hand.
Spike rubbed his sagging eyes with a loose fist. “You’re still up?”
Twilight gave an optimistic grin. “Yup! This is really the first time I looked at the stars in greater detail, especially since Luna returned.”
“At this hour?”
“Oh yes Spike, the stars are the brightest when it is the latest at night.” Twilight resumed to looking straight into the telescope. Spike tiredly looked at Twilight who was busy going from star to star.
Spike slow turned and began walking back inside. “Well, I’m gonna go back to bed.” Twilight heard Spike’s light steps on the wood floor stop suddenly. She could tell that he was still on the balcony.
She could hear approaching footsteps that ended next to her. “Are you actually looking for aliens? I mean, are there really aliens?”
“I have no idea!” She squealed with a whitening smile. “And according to mathematical probability, there should be another world just like Equestria somewhere else among the stars. But those odds are very, very astronomical.”
“Doesn’t Princess Luna know? Isn’t she like the princess of the stars?” Spike asked while scratching the back of his head.
“Well, technically, no,” Twilight answered. “Luna is princess of the moon and night sky. The stars and outer space are way out of her power. She is the ruler of night on Equestria, not the entire universe, so I don’t think she knows the answer either.”
“Well then.” Spike took another sip of his water. “What do you think aliens would look actually look like?”
“I tell you what I told the fillies, I have no idea,” Twilight said while zooming in on the moon. “Though they would probably be magical-based life-forms since that’s all the living things are based off of in Equestria.”
“No no, I mean aliens that fly in spaceships and stuff.”
“Oh, well…” Twilight sunk into thought. “They would clearly have to hold some intelligence and some sort of magic, especially to be able to travel millions of magicka-years away, so maybe they would resemble us?”
“Like those sci-fi comics and novels?” Spike added with an unimpressed look. “Please, in those, the aliens would look practically the same as ponies. Sometimes with absolutely no changes.”
“Well, ponies, griffins, dragons and changelings are the only type of intelligent life that manages to thrive so how else could aliens invent technology?” Twilight back out of her telescope and took a glimpse at the night sky as a whole.
“It will be a very, very long time when we actually encounter aliens.” She gave a sad sigh and smiled. “I wish I could live to see that day, two worlds making contact for the first time. Oh just think of all the things that we could learn from each other!”
“Like, scooping brains out of my head? And replacing it with some sort of magical gem, making me some sort of zompony?!” He finished while raising his horrified voice.
Twilight stared at Spike with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “What? It’s a possibility.”
She rolled her eyes. “Honestly Spike, you read too many of those Star Mare comics.” Twilight said with an eased smirk. “Just think what kind of aliens these would be? What could they look like? They could look like something beyond our imagination! We could exchange knowledge and culture! Imagine the possibilities!”
“And you have been staring at the sky for too long, Twilight,” Spike commented. The fascinated pony gave an annoyed grunt, which prompted the little dragon to walk back inside. “I’m going back to bed, good night.”
“Good night, Spike,” Twilight Sparkle said while her eyes kept on the sky with a longing smile. “Good night.”
***
***
“Team Mojave is blasting off ag-”
*KRRSSHH!”
The Courier smacked into the front, concaved window above the control consoles. Thankfully, no cracks were seen or done in the glass that separated the inhabitants from a horrifying death. The Courier rubbed his head that was still ringing, feeling the stickiness of the blood that leaked from the roots of his hair.
“Looks like someone isn’t happy today,” the Courier pointed out. The slamming of a door silenced the room. “Honestly, who doesn’t want a hug?”
He pulled himself back onto his black seat with one hand and sat down above the cushion. Shaking himself out of disorientation, he floated up towards his dufflebag and dug his hand inside until a smile elicited on his face.
“Yes! Still warm!”
With a few clicks, he pulled out a large brahmin steak that was skewered on a thin, metal rod. The medium-rare meat juiced with faint steam. The Courier picked up several skills in the wasteland, with survival being one of many. He honestly surprised everyone at being a master chef, but unsurprised them all when he ate their meals as soon as they were finished.
“Happy Shotgun-Brahmin day!” He announced. “Or whatever that damn day is called where everyone travels somewhere.”
The Courier’s mouth drooled with appetite as it drew closer to the chewy protein. Taking a huge bite, he chomped his mouthful of delicious steak.
Aww yeah. That’s good. He thought to himself.
The Courier had the Think Tank modify his dufflebag so it now has a miniature, rotisserie oven installed inside of it. Everyone he met in the wastes always became confused whenever he pulled out a warm piece of meat from his duffle bag.
He savored the juiciness of the brahmin using each second and every tastebud. Swallowing half of the meat that was now reduced to paste, he hummed to himself, putting himself into thought.
What am I thankful for? He rubbed his chin.
He gazed around the empty pilot’s chamber, looking down to see the hatch that Strip closed up. He thought back to the Strip, Lucky 38, The Ultra-Luxe’s gourmand, and everywhere else he killed, had fun and gambled at. His eyes suddenly shot open and he snapped his fingers.
He nodded affirmatively. Definitely my truck.
He continued to wolf down the brahmin steak, slurping, gulping and spitting out chunks of meat. Minutes later, he impressively finished the meal, eliciting a large belch that still wasn’t enough to wake Toaster up. His mind automatically filtered the Think Tank’s bickering when he noticed a strange, blinking, orange button that he somehow missed.
His curiosity piqued and he listened closer to the Think Tank’s conversations, hoping for something since shouting every possibly curse word didn’t seem to be effective.
*”...Whatever it is, pushing the big, bright button… Thingy is a…”* Dr. 0 said.
“...An absolutely good idea!” The Courier finished with an excited expression.
*”...Absolutely good idea!”*
“Nailed it!” He cheered.
The Courier then went to push the big button, thinking there could be nothing going wrong at all. He realized he had no way of actually pushing it, since he held whatever was left of his steak in one hand and his can of pork n’ beans in the other.
He stared at it with neutral eyes and gave a brief shrug.
“Fuck it.”
And mashed his head into the console, jamming several buttons into the controls.
The controls buzzed and hissed. A brightening glow of blue light was caught in his eyes. He looked up to see the shuttle nose outside, bashed in almost completely, glow intensely. A blue-violet, translucent ball of energy had formed, and proceeded to expand. The walls of light passed through all the objects, doing no damage.
The Courier, who simply looked at it with the remaining brahmin stuffed in his mouth, was unfazed and only reacted with a slight smirk.
“Nice light show.”
***
***
The Lone Wanderer hyperventilated against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. He was back at the bridge after running away with his life. While running, he swore he could hear more and more roars of irradiated beasts joining in on the parade. By the split second, he ran back inside and shut the large, complex door, knowing it would be impossible for simple animals to decipher an alien door.
Each thump against it wouldn’t allow him to simmer. The roars and slammings from the onslaught of what was clawing at him gradually died down, but the Wanderer’s heart stayed the same. Finally, there was silence.
At last, they’re gone.
The room was still and quiet, quiet enough that he could hear the idle grumblings of what awaited him back out in the hall. Sweat trickled on his face while he could still hear his hammering heart.
He slowly stepped forward, carefully taking quiet steps, freezing at every sound that stood out from the distant explosions and beeps of the buttons. After feeling confident that the Deathclaws and Yao Guais wouldn’t return, he walked and seated himself onto the captain’s seat.
The mothership occasionally shook, but it did that so much that it was practically instinct for him to plant his feet firmly on the metal floor.
The distant hologram that showed the entire ship flickered occasionally. The missile-like object was still lodged into the hull. If anything, it appeared that it was digging in. The Wanderer scratched his head at the revelation that it was some sort of glitch.
But just as he was going to relax, his ears picked up something strange. Down far below, some sort of explosion occurred. For some reason, it didn’t sound like one of the typical fragmental or electrical combustions. To the Wanderer, the only real way he could describe what it sounded like would resemble some sort of sonic boom.
He looked out the surrounding windows, which had a beautiful view of the dead planet. A lucid, azure sphere of light emerged from below as the eye can see.
The ball of strange energy didn’t move, but only growing and harmlessly engulfing whatever objects it encountered. A rounded wall of light phased itself into the bridge and moved up quickly. The Lone Wanderer found his power armor to stutter momentarily when the wave blew past him.
He looked behind himself to see the strange light disappear into the walls and door.
“What the hell was that?” The Wanderer thumped the back of his helmet. He checked his Pipboy to find no injury or effect to his armor.
Moments later, the entire ship shook.
Violently.
“What the…?”
Enough to send the Lone Wanderer tumbling down. For some reason, he was falling towards the window, but was caught underneath a control console. The Wanderer could not help himself but think that the gravity is now different but the same.
He could instinctively tell that the laws of nature would still work, and that he was being pulled by some external force. He threw his hand and gripped the side of the table. Pulling himself with all of his strength, he rested both of his arms on the edge, making him dangle from under the table. His eyes exploded when he looked outside.
“What in the fuck?!”
Earth, the stars, space, and everything else was gone. Instead, the mothership was in a tunnel. A bright tunnel of spiraling waves of a thick, blue aura. The ship vibrated vigorously as it traveled through, making all the loose object crash into the seemingly, impenetrable window.
The tunnel walls paused for a moment, making the Wanderer feel less artificial gravity, causing his dangling legs to inch back to the cold floor. Then the alternating, blue streams spun again, this time much, much faster with brighter and brighter blue lights.
This time, however, instead of being pulled towards the window, the Wanderer was being pulled to the rear bulkhead.
Without the slightest clue of the changing gravity, the sanctuary that protected him slipped out of his grip with ease. In the shape of a starfish, he slammed into the wall. The force was tremendous enough that he could feel the blood rushing from the front of his body. Every limb he tried to break free of the gravity was forced back into the wall.
“What is wrong with this thing?!”
***
***
“Mmmmm.”
The Courier crunched through another mouthful of beans. “This shit is good,” he barely was able to say through his full mouth.
The Courier sat almost casually, holding an open can of beans whose contents attempted to float out but was prevented by the adhesive juices. He watched the blank hull of the ship with bored eyes while idly scooping beans into his mouth. He showed no reaction to the brightening cyan and indigo lights from the sides and still shoveled pork and beans.
Even after the strange sonic boom, he still kept bagged eyes at the viewless window and nonchalantly ate his snack. The inside chamber vibrated but the Courier wasn’t affected due to the fact he was floating in zero gravity.
The Courier swallowed his meaty paste. He placed his spoon in front of himself and transferred the can into his other hand.
“You know my friend…” He reached to his left and pulled a barely recognizable Mister Handy. “I’m glad that we came to an understanding.”
His left arm hugged the bashed-in spherical body and pulled it closer to his ribs. The Mister Handy had most of it’s armor beaten away, revealing the delicate interior that was also smashed ruthlessly. Only one eye sensor remained and it was severely twisted and mashed around. All of the arms were forcefully ripped away and the jets were banged up.
He raised his can of beans. “When we first met, I didn’t know what to think...”
With a ditzy smile, he thought back to when he was being thrown around.
“We’ve had some trials together, and some cake, but ultimately you didn’t follow through with that last one.” The Courier’s voice died down to a more grim tone at his last sentence.
His dark expression then erupted with a big smile and casual eyes.. “In the end, we’ve managed to come to an understanding! And while we wait for this damned commercial break to end, it’s just me, you…” He leaned in closer to the limbless robot, squinting his eyes at the tiny inscription. “...343, Toaster and…”
He paused and glanced back down to the pilot’s chamber, ignoring the floating, robotic limbs and bullet shells.
After looking at the Cargo bay hatch, he was reminded about when Stripe swiped at him with his tiny arms, sending him away with surprising force literally minutes ago.
“Well it would’ve been Stripe, but he’s just an ungrateful bastard.” He shook his can of beans while his eyes wandered away.
“But I’m glad that you’re here; you’re a really good listener! Not a complaint or rant to take over the world so far. Now I know that we may have had some sort of… Fight, but now that’s over and we can just enjoy the show! Together!”
A frown surfaced on his face. “...If it ever continues again,” he muttered. “Jeez, why do these commercial breaks go on forever? I mean they aren’t even offering the product in any kind of convincing way. They’re just plastering their name across a cereal box,” he said while holding his hand out towards the blank hull. “Maybe I should stop watching films so often. Maybe I should go out and do more instead of staring at a colorful screen. Yeah! Screw TV! Look out reality, here comes-”
The Courier finally noticed that the hull the shuttle was dug into was finally moving. His eyes widened. “Oh shit, the show‘s starting!”
“Get the fuck out of here!” He ruthlessly chucked the spherical robot down the chamber. “Honestly, you overgrown monitor, are you always this rude?! Bothering me during the movie?! What is wrong with you?!”
He turned around with eager eyes, obediently sitting in mid air. The wires and zapping circuits grew further and further from the Courier and the shuttle. Bits of shredded metal screeched as the shuttle’s nose pulled out of the saucer’s hull.
“Finally! A change in setting!” He cheered.
The Shuttle, now free of the strange vessel’s hull, tilted itself backwards. The Courier latched onto the chair in order to maintain his positioning.
Slowly, a green marble centered in the Courier’s view, sitting itself above the mashed-in nose of the shuttle. Lines of white clouds streamed and swirled above the grass-green continents and deep-blue oceans. The little, lush planet slowly grew in size, allowing the Courier to spot the rifts in the thick clouds.
The faint echoes of an explosion sounded from the back, but did nothing to surprise the Courier in the slightest. Seconds later, buttons flashed and small alarms beeped.
“Woah! Huh? What the?!” The Courier searched in every direction, sending bits of beans across the room. “Okay okay, ship is making funny noises. How bad could this g-” He stopped himself after looking down at his lap then back to the strange planet.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!!”
He threw his can and spoon behind himself. He held his hands by where one bean managed to splash down on his leather legging.
“And there goes my perfect ‘Shotgun-Brahmin day’!”
***
***
The Lone Wanderer struggled to stand up after being thrown across the room several times until he slammed into the front window and dropped onto the floor. After standing on his two feet, he stumbled backwards and caught himself on the wall. The world seemed to blur as he tried to wobble his way back where the captain’s seat was, which had the best view of the window.
The room constantly glowed red, along with an irritating alarm that could not do much other than harm one’s hearing.
While on the way up, his disorientated vision caught the view of the hologram. But for some reason, it just seemed different to him, especially the mothership as a whole. After clenching his eyes shut, he looked back at the overall condition of the ship with clearer vision.
“What?! The ship…”
He eyes beheld themselves as they stared at the mothership hologram. Half of it was gone, as if something chopped them apart with a big knife. The red missile dislodged itself and was floating in the same direction the mothership was drifting, downwards. The main propulsions of the ship failed. The bridge shook extremely vigorously.
“...where’s the rest of it!?”
“What the hell is going on?” He said while jogging up to the captain’s seat. “What did that damn missile do?”
After taking a quick glance outside the window, he stopped altogether. What he thought was his dead Earth was replaced with something else.
Instead of sickly dead lands were lush landscapes of bright green. Poisoned oceans were a beautiful blue. Giant, cotton balls scattered themselves wherever they pleased. He could not help but just stare at it at the life-rich planet in wonder.
Is… Is that Earth? He asked himself.
He shook his head after realizing that the continent shapes were not of Earth; he could recognize not one country. His state of pure confusion and awe was interrupted when static emitted from a nearby console. His ears picked up the buzzes, but ignored it until he heard something different.
“....Ma…..ay!”
His eyes widened at the recognition of human syllables. He quickly dashed to the controls and sat down, and frantically searched it. After pushing random buttons, he managed to bring up a status screen that had a strange frequency with no name.
The Lone Wanderer struggled to fine-tune the strange signal the console was getting. Finally, he heard a legible voice in the midst of the static.
“...Mayday! Mayday! This is Shuttle 38, carrying killer cargo for floating brains! We are going down! I des-… I mean the controls spontaneously combusted! I got beans on my pants! My new friend is being an ass! And my co-pilot is a toaster! I repeat! My co-pilot is a toaster!” The slightly crazy voice cried in the swarm of static. “...Oh yeah, and Stripe is also being a complete douche, so I don’t mind if we lose him.”
The Wanderer cocked his head at the strange signal. He couldn’t tell either if this message was serious or not, but nevertheless, it was his only means of communication. After realizing that one of the buttons he pushed corresponded with a small light, he responded back.
“Hello? Hello?! Are you there?!” The Wanderer called. “If you can hear me, please respond! I’m trapped on some alien ship and I need help!” The Wanderer looked up to the ceilings, thinking about the part with the toaster.
“Are you also sane?!” The Wanderer’s heart sped up as he waited tirelessly. “If not, then you might need help!”
“Military lingo, Order 66, AC-130, blah-blah-blah! No one actually listens to this stuff!” The man’s voice dredged on. The Wanderer attempted to get him to know of his existence, but had no clue of his success. “Except when everything is going to explode after killing so much.”
“What?”
“You know what a mailman crashing a falling shuttle needs? Other than giant, exploding rings, some fitting music! Hit it!” Then the voice was cut off by a recording of Jingle, Jangle.
“Hello? Hello?! Please answer back! Anything!” The Lone Wanderer desperately called. The song did not stop, and he gave a sigh of defeat. “Dammit!”
After slamming the table, the Wanderer looked at the communicator dumbstruck. The old song didn’t do much to block out the already-deafening alarms that rang in the bridge. He imagined everything happening to him right now were literally scrambling the logical parts of his brain.
What… The hell… Was that? He leaned back on the chair, hanging his head behind himself while exasperating air. And I thought Three-Dog was eccentric…
He finally realized that the ship was in panic mode after almost syncing the loud alarms into his mind. He stood up from his chair with his body naturally resisting the tremors of the ship that attempted to throw him off balance. He gazed around, seeing flashing red buttons on every table and computer.
After an examination of what could be seen through the window, he realized that there was only one course of action for half of a mothership: crash. He groaned after seeing the green planet enlarge very slightly.
He flapped his arms in the air in a ragdoll fashion. “Are you kidding me?!” He stomped around in a small circle before facing the front window.
“So someone, please give me an explanation as of what in the nine circles of Hell is going on!”
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Pfft! I already knew I was awesome. Also, hooray for this being one of the four stories I edit, and even more hooray for this being the only one I'm recognized in.
Those ungrateful pricks.On an unrelated note, cheese, beans, and leafy greens!
"Only in Death, does Duty end." - The Codex Astartes
3557413
Yes, I was.
Wait, what?
I didn't say anything...
Wutchu talkin' 'bout?!
I'm normal, DON"T JUDGE ME!!!!
I've been waiting for this, and it does not disappoint.
I feel like the lone wanderer is gona strangle the courier the first chance he gets.
"Yes its a new chapter!"..... "They didn't get to Equestria yet :("
On a more serious note, it twas a good read, and I await the next chapter
I have to say, I'm really digging this insane Courier, New Vegas was supposed to be more upbeat about its post apocalypse, and what better way to do that than with a, insane mailman?
Can't wait for more of this.
The courier portrayed by Jim Carrey
And the Lone Wanderer portrayed by Christian Bale
In Crossroads, where life can turn for the best or for the worst
Coming this holiday to a fan site near you!
when's the next chapter out?
Whoo! :D
It has always bugged me that we can't really conceive of aliens. It's a shame that Twilight hasn't read the pony version of Rama, assuming it exists in that world. The aliens in that book were awesome.
Courier's crazier then a soup sandwich.
Here's my prediction when the courier, the lone wonderer, and pinkie meet up.
Pinkie:
(singing random song) ALIEN INVASION PARTY TIME!!! (brings out cake and party cannon)
Courier: Hell yeah! Party! What aliens?! (with a smile)
Lone wonderer: What just happened, and what's happening now?
3624732 Together, they fight crime!
Funnily enough, for some reason I really want to see a buddy cop movie within those two as the lead actors...
Deadpool? When did you become a mailman?
And get your skin back?
Anyhow, great story!
MOAR!
Well this is getting a little bit weird.
What did I just read?
3625479
You want more?
Alright, the Courier is the biggest piece of hilarious I've ever seen.....
Also:I think he's got the Wild Wasteland perk :3
The Courier is awesome. He reminds me of 'Atom Smasher' from 'Fallout Equestria: Duck and Cover'. It's an okay fic and I recommend it.
Still, I'm waiting till they actually get to Equestria. (And prove Twilight wrong. It's weird how she thinks aliens will be like them, when the world she inhabits is filled with so many different types of sapient lifeforms.
I mean, humans have an excuse to think like that. We're the only ones living on our world.)
Fun fact : the courier is middle aged or older....
I hope they meet next chapter
3626060
Confirmation: The Courier and the Lone Wanderer are about the same age, so they are both hip and young.
^
this man? this man right here | ... he is the craziest Fallout character i have read about in a pony crossover... he reminds me so much of myself
and possibly an Intelligence of around 4
3626093
lol for this story.
But it says something about the courier (if male) thinks he impregnated a girl about 18 years ago
3625937
Just an average day in a fallout adventure
3626279
That little tidbit is only canon if you make it so. Obsidian explicitly said that many of the dialogue options that hint at the courier's past exist solely for flavor, and you can take them for fact if you choose to roleplay that way.
...again, there is an age slider at character creation. The courier's background is what you make it.
One reason it didn't like Lonesome Road too much was that there was suddenly all this crap in your character's past that was never even mentioned before. It was like..."Here's a place. It blew up. It's totally your fault. You should feel bad."
3626093
Oh, and you. Keep it up. Yah betta' not *EFF* dis up mayn! Or no soup for you! Hoo-mans meet pones next chapter? Maybe?
Oh, and just a thought: How young is "young"? If you're keeping their ages the same and take the canon timeline into account, the LW will be at least 23. PS: What year is it in your Falloutland?
3626486
For your questions...
Your first question, Maybe.
Your second question: When I say young, I mean below 30's range.
Your final question: That will be revealed in the next chapter.
I just have the feeling that the Lone Wanderer and the Courier together is like the perfect combination of gasoline and oxygen. It's only need a little Spark(le;
ok I admit this was a bad joke 
) to go Ka-BooMMM!
3625172 I will neither confirm nor deny that some things from the wastelands may or may not impact something in Equestria...
Are these Spoils, I sense?
We shall see...
Also, one more Upvote from 400!
Posted: 12-14-2013 13:46 Hours (GMT)
3627133
Who're you?
I love this story the more I read it. I don't even know what the courrier will do in equestria.
My god this has to be my favorite portrayal of the courier ever
I look forward to what wild shenanigans these two get themselves into.
My friend, your Courier made me laugh every ten seconds when he's on. He's so funny that I can't breathe because I'm laughing so hard.
Your Lone Wanderer is a pretty savvy one. Then again, the good ones I've seen are either slightly unhinged or just... average.
3627233 Who am I? Who, am I!?
...Good question. I haven't a frakkin' clue!! Who the FRELL am I!?!?!?!
Waaaaah!!!!
This chapter had some pretty crazy shit going down. To further emphasize my point, here's a picture of weirdness going down in space.
obscureinternet.com/wp-content/uploads/Motivational-Poster-Fucking-Vikings.jpg
I don't even know anymore.
Ha, the robot's name is 343!
This is awesome, I can't wait for more.
WILD WASTELAND! NEVER START A GAME WITHOUT IT!
S.P.E.C.I.A.L
LONE WANDERER; strength 6 perception 6 endurance 8 charisma 5 intelligence 6 agility 4 Luck 1
courier; strength 5 perception 5 endurance 6 charisma 10 intelligence 2 agility 7 luck 5
so the courier is insane I predict him and pinkie will get on swimmingly but he will annoy the living shit out of the poor poor wanderer {who is awesome he's just like my fallout characters this is one of the best stories for both sane and batshitt crazy story telling depending on who's doing what
I CALL A WANDERER V.S COURIER SLAPFIGHT
KICK HIS ASS WANDERER WOOOOOOO
THIS GETS A 9/10 CONGRATS
Just wanted to let yall know that I'm not dead; still writing the chapter.
Sadly, writer's block is the hardest thing to recover from.
YES!
They're finally close to Equestria.
I hope nothing bad happens to anypony *cough* Diamond Tiara *cough*
I'm loving this!!!!! :D it's so funny and I can't for them and the ponies to meet!
3706183
Just a suggestion, try listening to the FO3 and NV ambient music tracks to get some inspiration.
Can't wait for the next chapter
3626486
that is the best explanation for not liking lonesome road that i have ever heard in my entire life
So the Courier is batshit insane... I like it.
Oh god the wanderer is going to kill the courier.
well the vault dweller is a nice guy
what? you guys take a bullet to the head and lets see how you come back all sane!!!
and the courier.....is exactly as I thought he would be!! HAHAHA!
Jingle, Jangle is not my first choice of music. I'd instinctually go with Ain't That a Kick in the Head. TOOO FITTING!
3932598 i know i would.
No, not him again....No. No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!