Fallout Equestria: Operation Flankorage

by Kashin

BARON

Fallout Equestria: Operation Flankorage

Chapter Seven: BARON

“Aren’t you a little old for this?”

The armored pegasus known as Baron trudged ahead of us, navigating the horror filled tunnels with an almost bored calm. We hadn’t detected any other demons since we had joined company with the supposedly ancient mare; I wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or worried about that.

The others all seemed apprehensive and exhausted as well, especially the surface ponies. Maple had taken the burden of carrying the comatose Cave, despite her numerous lacerations. The security pony was putting on a tough façade, but her injuries were obviously taking their toll. Echo was still using her cloud as a floating crutch for her injured wing and leg, floating in the middle of the group. Flights was supporting Rosalyn, who was struggling to breath and loosing an unnerving amount of blood from her nearly disemboweling injury.

My own crippled shoulder was starting to wear on me, despite my magical cast. Scoop was kindly trying to help me along, wedging her self under my hobbled leg and letting me use her as a support. I had absolutely no clue why the cute, little news mare seemed to have taken a liking to me, but I was thrilled that she had. Being around her just made me happy.

I deliberately slowed until we were near the back, next to Maple. “Scoop,” I whispered to the reporter pony when I was sure Baron was out of earshot. “Why is everypony so scared of this pegasus? Granted, she is large and intimidating, but at least she is better than the demons.” She looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head. “Stable Pony,” I said, tapping my chest softy with my injured leg.

The midnight maned mare sighed. “It is a plague,” she mumbled back. “Wherever it goes ruin follows. If you only knew the stories.”

“Well why don’t you tell me some?” I prompted. She needed something to occupy her mind other than worry and I had to know who I was dealing with.

“Um, what do you want to hear first?” she asked, prodding my neck with her nose.

“As I have no frame of reference,” I replied with a half shrug. “How about the earliest one you know.”

“All right, let me think,” the reporter pony said while she snuggled deeper into my coat. “Were you always this soft?” Was I? I looked at my fetlock. Wavy, ashen gray hair was bulging out from under my PipBuck and fell nearly a quarter of the way down my hoof. While I supposed I hadn’t had a trim in a while… actually I had probably never had a trim. I didn’t remember my coat ever growing out that far before.

“Well,” the azure earth pony continued. “Baron first showed up in Flankorage about a hundred and fifty years ago. At first it helped the Frostborn as they made their way out of Stable 116 and actually inspired The Hunters Lodge.” She paused, realizing that I had no idea what she was talking about. “Right, you don’t know the Hunters. They brave heavily irradiated areas and regions filled with vicious monsters to find supplies, recover technology and destroy dangerous creatures that get too close to pony settlements. Though lately they have been taking less reputable contracts; like collecting bounties and recovering escaped Unity slaves.”

“Anyway, back to Baron,” the news pony continued with her story. “It was a hero up until about seventy years ago.” She looked up at me with a mix of regret and excitement. “That was when The Black Apple made itself known and established a town in the eastern foothills. They offered anypony who would join them advanced medical treatment, the protection of The Black Apple Rangers, a group of power armored soldiers, and as much food as they could eat. Needless to say ponies flocked there in droves and it soon became a thriving community.” Scoop sighed. “Nopony knows why, but that drove Baron mad. It traveled to the Black Apple town and wiped it out, slaughtering every last mare, stallion and foal. If that wasn’t bad enough, it drove the Frostborn and Black Apple Rangers to the brink of war. Only the Frostborn’s condemnation of Baron as a raider and the fifty thousand cap bounty they placed in its head averted a devastating conflict.”

Fifty thousand?! Lets see… a small pie runs around two to three gold bits, the same pie reads as five caps, so that would make it about twenty thousand bits. That was more than my entire shop, stock and current equipment combined! Baron killed entire families and was worth more money than I had ever seen in my life. Now how could we take this monster down?

No! Damn it! I can’t start thinking that way. I’m going to do it for the ponies she killed, not the money. If I start giving and taking life for caps I’ll be no better than the wretched Unity.

“Don’t even think about it,” Scoop said nervously, seemingly able to read my mind. “Baron has been hunted for nearly four generations and nopony who has gone after it has ever come back.” She kicked at the ground uncomfortably. “At least not as themselves.”

“As themselves?” I asked perplexed. “And why do you keep calling her an it? I mean I could understand if you just heard her voice-”

“Ocher,” the blue mare interrupted me.

“Yes?” I asked, cocking my head.

“Shush.“

Scoop stole a glace at the silver pegasus and shuddered, burying her face back in my oddly fuzzy neck. “This isn’t the first Baron,“ the news mare whispered. “Some ponies say that Baron is an evil spirit that possesses ponies and bends them to its will. Others say it’s a curse; that anypony who kills Baron becomes it. Or it may simply be a hereditary title, passed from one pony to the next with the armor and mission. But whatever it is, anypony who goes hunting for Baron comes back as the monster or not at all.”

Maple stumbled and fell to her knees, having been distracted by Scoop’s story and being nearly dead on her hooves. Her unconscious cargo tumbled to the floor. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” the security mare insisted weakly, struggling back to her hooves. “I just hit a root.”

“Why do you waste your time and energy dragging the white one with you?” the silver pegasus asked without turning around.

“He’s hurt,” I replied indignantly, sliding off Scoop‘s back and stepping between the unconscious buck and the armored flyer. “He needs medical attention.”

“Let me see him,” the armored mare said stopping and turning around.

“I, um…” I stammered as the hunter barreled past me as if I wasn‘t even there. “Hey!.”

Baron ran her magitech encased hooves over Cave’s prone form, her eyes darting through a sea of glowing, red numbers that flowed across the inside of her helmet‘s visor. “His spine is badly damaged,” she stated, placing her hooves on ether side of the comatose buck’s head. “I will handle this.” Baron pressed her hooves into Cave’s temples. Arcs of light blue, arcane energy enveloped the albino pony’s head causing him to spasm and jerk.

Cave’s signal vanished from my E.F.S. The white buck’s head was smoldering and blood was leaking from his ears, nose, eyes and mouth. Scoop, Flights and Rosalyn recoiled as Maple and Echo tensed, slowly reaching for their weapons.

“You murderer!” I bellowed, charging the steel coated pegasus. “First foals and now this! How could you?!”

In a silver flash the tunnel spun and I found myself on my back with a painful ringing in my ears. Baron stood over me, magical lighting sparking menacingly from one of her metal hooves. “I saved him a slow and agonizing death,” the pegasus rumbled in my ear. “The damage to his nerve stem was too severe. If I had gotten to him within a few hours of his injury I might have been able to save him, but at this point there are only two facilities in the valley that could have saved him and they would give him fates worse than death.” She turned and continued on her way down the tunnel. “Now come along, I‘m on a schedule.”

“Why should we?!” I yelled at the foal killer as I struggled to regain my hoofing. “You’re a monster! You might just kill us anyway!”

“You are correct,” Baron growled without turning back. “I am a monster and If you come with me you may die.” The armored mare stopped and turned back to us with a cold rage in her eyes. “But if you leave now, I swear, by my hooves or the ferals’ claws, you will die.”

“She’s right,” my cold advisor cautioned. “If we fight now there is no way we would win. Only two of us are in any shape to fight and frankly they are worse shots than you are.”

Damn! It was right: Maple was exhausted and suffering from massive blood loss. Echo was nearly immobile, denying the pegasus her single greatest strength. I was almost out of ammunition and nopony else knew how to fight. If we fought something that was able to survive being hunted for over seven decades we wouldn’t last seven minutes; if she decided to leave us to the demons then maybe an hour at best.

I dropped my head as Scoop moved up and wedged herself back under my shoulder. “Fine,” I growled through my teeth. “Have it your way. Just give me a minute.”

“Very well,” the silver mare said irritably. “One minute.”

“Scoop, Maple,” I said to the two blue mares, pointing at Cave’s corpse. “Help me with him.” Scoop nodded and Maple slowly let her saddle‘s firing bit fall out of her mouth.

We moved the albino pony’s body against the wall, doing our best to put him into some form of repose. I kneeled down in front of him. “I am so sorry,” I said to the body. “I’m sorry failed you.”

“Your time is up,” the armored mare boomed.

“Coming,” I hissed back. Before this day was over one of us would be lying in a puddle of our own blood, that was a promise.

*** *** ***

“This is where we leave,” Baron stated, indicating to a masterfully camouflaged door. “We will come up in an abandoned pharmacy. I should be able to find what I need to fix you.”

“Like you ‘fixed’ Cave?” Flights spat at our guide.

“Watch yourself girl,” the armored pegasus warned. “ I am a monster, remember. I need him.” The hunter pointed her hoof at me. “Not you. I am offering to help you out of the kindness of my little, black heart. So don‘t push me.”

The lime green unicorn stepped back behind me timidly, shaking in her ruffled, purple dress. Humph, little flip flop. Just a little while ago she had recoiled from me as if I were a monster, but soon as she saw a real monster I suddenly became her protector. I was half tempted to just step aside and watch what happened. Damn, pesky morals.

“That’s enough,” I said as tersely as I could, glaring at the large, silver mare. “Are you going to open the door or not?”

“You’re a brave one,” the hunter pony said, turning back to the door. “I will give you that much.” She wedged a hoof behind a root near her head and pulled. With a soft hiss the earth disguised door crept open on rusted guides. Beyond it was a rusted, metal staircase illuminated only by Baron’s helmet lamp. The entire hall reeked of mould, but it was a pleasant change from the carrion stench of the tunnels “Now, let’s go.”

The stairs ended in a rotting, wooden door. Our armored escort didn’t even bother reaching for the handle, instead she just reared up and smashed the door to flinders.

My PipBuck registered a new location, ‘>Xeruth’s Potions’.

The pale rays of morning sunlight that could pass through the cloud curtain were filtering in through gaps in the large sheets of plywood that covered the store’s display windows. The shop’s interior was eerily similar to my own store. While the shelves were nearly bare, and what was there consisted solely of expired drugs, the layout was nearly identical. It even had the same brand of cash register. What was different was the prevalent graffiti, stating such unpleasant sentiments as; ’Better Wiped Than Striped’, ’Take your dirty witchcraft somewhere else’, as well as a plethora of others that were far less tasteful.

I could see several cat sized cockroaches scurrying about and chewing on scraps of garbage while avoiding the beams of light as if it caused them physical pain. My E.F.S. indicated that there where many more of the disgusting creatures scattered throughout the building. I recoiled in disgust, pulling out my beam rifle. It almost felt as if it was my own home the monstrous pests were defiling.

“Don’t,” Scoop said calmly, placing a hoof on the top of my gun and pushing it down. “Radroaches are only pests. They aren’t worth the ammunition, just give them a good kick if they get to close. Unless we will be sleeping here it would be best to just leave them be.”

“If you say so,” I replied skeptically, looking at the massive bugs with revulsion. I was honestly contemplating exterminating the vermin on principle.

“Humph,” Baron said irritably. “Somepony else must have come through here since my last visit. You may be out of luck.”

I trotted over to a staircase behind the register. “No store keeps all their stock out in the open,” I stated. “If this place is set up anything like my own store then there will be living quarters and a terminal up here. I might be able to find where they kept the rest of their goods.” I turned to the floating, black pegasus. “Echo, I might need your help if the terminal has any form of encryption or security on it.”

“Well make it quick then,” the silver pegasus replied, stomping on a radroache and making it burst like a balloon. “And stay focused. I know you Stable pony types, too damn curious for your own good.”

I turned and hobbled up the stairs, Scoop still supporting a good half of my weight. My hobbled assassin followed us up, keeping a few steps between us, walking up backwards from the sound of it.

“While you’re up there you can get away,” the arctic voice said. “Just open a window and climb out. If this place has the same layout as the Shetland Store there should be a window just over the awning. Two short drops and you’re free of this madmare.”

Sure enough, as soon as I rounded corner at the top of the stairs I saw a large, wood framed window, easily large enough to fit through. It was only a few yards to the tree line and less than a quarter mile to some sort of road. The Morning dew was sparkling in the weak sunlight off the myriad of leaves and flowers that coated the forest underbrush. It was hard to believe that such a beautiful place could hide so many twisted monsters.

I stepped up to the window and magically yanked it open. I was hit with a wave of crisp, cool air rich with the scent of evergreens and the intoxicating earthiness of fertile soil. Combined with the soft warmth of the little mare under my leg I just felt so comfortable. What I wouldn’t have given for one more mug of cocoa to complete the experience. I leaned out, just to get a better look. The brisk breeze felt so good on my face, cooling the still burning skin where the demon had bit me.

“Look how close that road is,” the cold voice continued. “I’d bet you could make that in five minutes, even with your injury.”

“Yeah,” I replied, shifting further forward. “I probably could.”

“Ocher?” the blue mare asked nervously.

I pulled out my beam rifle and bought the scope up to my eye. That was more than a road; that was a highway. At easily eight lanes across, probably closer to ten, it had to be the main thoroughfare for the valley. Moving my sights down the carriageway I spotted a line of small, multicolored signposts between the cracked, black asphalt and the tree line that had encroached to within a few pony lengths of the road. If I was going to find help anywhere it would be somewhere on that highway.

“That’s it,” the arctic being in my head encouraged. “Just a little more. It will be easy.”

“Yes,” I responded, scanning for soft spots in the underbrush. “Yes it would be easy.”

“Ocher,” the reporter mare said again. “Ocher, you’re starting to scare me. Don’t tell me you’re going to run.”

“Climb out and run,” the icy voice insisted. “Live.”

“No!” I snapped at the selfish prick in my brain. “Luna damn it! Stop that!” The bastard had almost talked me into doing something unforgivable, again! How did it keep doing that? It was like that thing could just worm its way around in my mind and press at all my weak points, exploit every selfish desire.

“It’s nothing,” I said, turning to Scoop. She looked terribly frightened and was trembling, but to her credit she was still supporting me. “I saw an opportunity and, to my shame, I was tempted to take it.”

“That didn’t look like a simple moral dilemma to me,” the news mare said skeptically. “That looked like something far worse.”

“I’m just stressed,” I replied, fighting back an odd surge of anger that I couldn’t explain. “I’ve had a fairly crappy week.”

“Uh huh,” she said, obviously unconvinced. “I’ll drop it for now, but I am getting you some serious R&R. That is nonnegotiable young buck.” Young buck? I had to be at least four years older than her.

I gave her a half smile. “Thanks, I look forward to it,” I said, sliding off Scoop’s shoulders and taking care not to be ginger with my wounded hoof. “But in the meantime it may be wise for us to divide our efforts up here as we don‘t want to keep the steel plated sociopath downstairs waiting. Three ponies can search faster than one right?”

“All right,” the blue mare said hesitantly. “I’ll go see what I can find in the bathroom. Be careful, okay.”

“Okay,” I replied with a slight nod as she finagled the door open with her fetlock. “You too.”

“She’s right you know,” Echo whispered in my ear from out of nowhere.

“Gah!” I shouted, jumping straight up in the air and coming down hard on my wounded leg. “Ouch! Don’t do that!.”

“You have a functional E.F.S.,” the black flyer stated flatly. “I shouldn’t need to announce myself, despite my skills.”

“What was that?!” Scoop called, poking her head out of the bathroom.

“Nothing,” I replied waving a hoof dismissively. “Nothing. I just got spooked and slipped. I’m okay.”

The reporter mare cocked her ears and narrowed her eyes. “Echo snuck up on you didn’t she?” she teased with a little chuckle before disappearing back into the bathroom with a flick of her silky, midnight blue tail.

“I like her,” Echo said with what could almost be called a smirk. “I really do. And she is right.” The soldier pony’s meager amusement vanished so quickly it made me question if it had been there in the first place. “I’ve seen this kind of behavior before. The Enclave waged a war with the Griffin Republic about sixty years ago. Several of the veterans have nearly identical arguments with themselves and explosive bouts of anger. Its called complex post traumatic stress disorder and it isn‘t something that will just go away if you ignore it.”

“I understand,” I replied hauling myself back to my hooves. “But too many ponies are relying on me. I just can’t justify stopping now.” I shook my head. “Look, I know you’re right, you both are, and I do plan on doing something about it. I’m going to take Scoop up on her offer and look into something more long term as soon as 114 is safe.”

“When we find an Enclave patrol I will see if I can get you a pass to go up,” the Enclave mare said, easing herself back onto her cloud. “I can’t promise anything though.”

“Up?” I asked, trotting over to the bedroom door. “As in above the clouds?”

“Yes,” she replied, floating around the living room and flipping through the bits of debris that littered the room. “The Enclave is the only group that has any real experience with C.P.T.S.D. and you would have the best luck finding somepony who can help you in our city.”

I stopped and turned to the black pony. “Thank you,” I said, slightly stunned. “But why would you do that for me?” If they kept all of Equestria from the sun, of the sake of security, getting them to allow a surface pony into one of their cities couldn’t be easy.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” she replied flatly, not stopping her search.

The right thing to do huh? I couldn’t help but smile at the idea. While she was a bit gruff I had found another good pony; something I noticed to be depressingly rare on the surface. I magically popped the bedroom door open and trotted in.

The decor was different but the layout was the same as my own room. A twin sized bed was nestled in the back, right corner with a dirty, pink clock resting on the floor next to it. The walls all had slightly faded, hoof painted images of exotic flowers and sweeping landscapes. The rooms vanity table seemed to have actually been used (I only ever bothered with my own for its mirror.) and had several colorful bottles scattered across it. Ah ha! The console was in the same place as in my room, between the dresser and the window.

“Alright PipBuck,” I said holding out my foreleg to the console. “Lets get decrypting.” … Wonderful, now I was talking to inanimate objects too.

“You did that before I got here,” the icy voice mocked.

“Stupid, amoral bastard,” I grumbled to myself as I flailed my PipBuck in front of the terminal in an attempt to get it to work. “Being right and being an ass about it.”

“Speaking of which,” the voice continued in the same condescending tone. “Try turning the terminal on genius.”

“… Shut up,” I rebuked weakly as I pressed the power button. The terminal didn’t even have a password and immediately brought up a list of journals. No inventory list or ledger though. Eh, I might be able to find a reference in the logs or something else useful. Well here goes, log one.

A deep, melodious, mare’s voice came from the computer’s speakers.

‘I have finally scrounged the funds for my store. I will need to work in that oppressive city never more. Tonics and potions and poultices I shall sell. I see my future going very well. While I miss the home I love so dear. I can see a brighter future here.”

What the fuck was that? Some attempt a poetry? Oh well, no mention of a stock room. On to the next one.

‘A mighty tragedy has just struck. The ponies have gone to war with my people, curse my luck. I will continue to make my healing brew. Of this art ponies have no clue. I just hope that this will all be over soon. For the last pony war brought forth Nightmare Moon.’

Uh huh… So that rhyming thing wasn’t just a one time experiment. I got the distinct feeling that this would get on my nerves fairly quickly.

“I pray that such a horror can not be the truth. My kin have slaughtered a school of pony youth. This incident has ignited the ponies’ fire. For my stripes I have earned their ire. While I try to explain that Equestria is my home. Most of them insist that I roam. I shall stay despite their rage. I refuse to let fear be my cage.’

She must mean the Little Horn Massacre. I was only taught a little about it in school, but I knew it was a major turning point in the war. The Zebras unleashed some sort of necrotic weapon on a school, killing everypony. The event propelled the god princess Luna to the position of leadership and brought about the formation of the six ministries. That was about as modern as my historical education covered.

‘My home has been defiled. For by the ponies I am reviled. Their allegations are slander, nothing less. The Ministry of Morale has left my place a mess. The accuser insists he is an honest pony. But I know that all his claims are phony. I was never a traitor to the crown. Yet they insist on beating me down. If treachery is all they can see. Then a traitor I shall be. To Xenophon’s soldiers I have spoken. I offered my shop as a token. Through my store his soldiers may pass. The cruel ponies will wish they weren’t so crass.

Xenophon? Why did that name sound so familiar? That was going to bug me all day, I just knew it. Any hope for a cash of medical supplies would be in this last log.

‘Curse Xenophon and his promises to the moon! The ponies have retaken the city and will be here soon. He swore I would be safe with his master plan. But when the ponies struck back he just turned and ran. They are already hammering at my door. Should they get in they will treat me like some common whore. I shall deny them the pleasure of my torment out of spite. None of this was supposed to happen, it just isn’t right.’

Well that was a depressing waste of time.

I made my way back out into the living room. Echo was flipping through an old book with some swirling flower on the cover. Scoop had come out of the bathroom and was rifling through the couch cushions. The little blue mare was carrying a small, plastic bag of medical supplies on her back, probably enough to patch everypony up, but far from the treasure trove I had hoped for.

“No luck?” Echo asked, not taking her nose out of the book.

“No,” I replied despondently. “Just a sob story about the former owner. You?”

“Just the book,” the soldier pony replied. “Everything else was either junk, damaged beyond repair or just not my size.” She finished with a nearly invisible smile.

She was trying to be funny again. I gave a slight chuckle. At leas this one was better than the knife pun. “And what about you, Scoop?”

“I fumb bu memigul mumnet,” the reporter pony mumbled with her face buried under a pile of old pillows.

“Beg pardon?”

“And eight caps,“ she popped her head out and continued. “You really couldn’t find anything at all?”

“No,” I said shrugging. “Nothing, not even…”

“The first rule of scavenging; always look under the bed.”

I dropped to my hindquarters and slammed my hoof into my forehead. “I’ll be right back,” I sighed before trudging back to check under the stupid bed.

*** *** ***

“It took you long enough,” Baron grumbled from the doorway, wiping green ichor off her armored shoes with the welcome mat. While I was searching the armored pegasus had spent her time hunting down and crushing the radroaches.

While there hadn’t been a full storeroom I had found a locked safe under the bed. After a few minutes under Maple’s screwdriver it had yielded a slew of potions that healed all kinds of ailments; broken bones, addictions, poisons. And not only stuff that fixed the bad but stuff that brought the good; strong muscles, sharp mind, swift feet, wow.

After letting Echo’s PipHat (I still didn’t know what it was actually called.) analyze the various flasks of rainbow goop it was a breeze to put everypony back together. Echo and Maple guzzled their pink-purple sludge without a fuss. Rosalyn was far more hesitant, either because of her injuries or a reluctance to drink from a two century old, unlabeled bottle, making Flights force feed her. My own recovery required a trio of refilled, med-X syringes duck taped together, identified by the PipHat as ‘Untainted Hydra’. The two inch needles hurt like hell; there was something about hurting yourself that was just more painful than somepony else inflicting the same injury.

“Were coming, were coming,” I snapped back. “Keep your saddle on.”

The exterior of Xeruth’s Potions was coated in flowering vines growing out of ceramic pots that ringed the wooden building. Another anti zebra sentiment was plastered across the awning; ‘The only good zebra is a dead zebra’. A skeleton was hanging by its neck with just above the door with a sign hung around its neck with ‘Traitor’ written on it in big, black letters.

“So where are we going now?” I asked, trotting up next to the armored pegasus. “And why should we follow you anymore?”

“Because,” the foal killer replied with the very edges of a cruel grin visible in her helmet’s tinted visor. “I could still kill all of you with little issue. Because having a dangerous ally is better than being left alone among enemies. But most of all, because you are curious.” She pointed a wing at my PipBuck. “You want to know what that SpikeBuck actually does. That is why you will follow me to the Saddlebag Storage warehouse.”

Damn, she was right on all counts. I needed to find out if this thing was going to be a blessing on a curse. But what could this monster want from a warehouse? “All right,” I responded sourly, joining Baron on her walk to the highway. “You win. So where is this Saddlebag Storage place?”

“About a mile to the south,” Baron said, jerking her head to her right. “Help me retrieve what I’m after and I will escort you anywhere in the valley or leave you be, you may even try to kill me if you wish. Your choice.”

Scoop, Echo and Maple all fell in behind me uncomfortably, but without coercion. Flights and Rosalyn followed dully, probably for lack of a better option. Despite our disagreements and mistrust I had to feel for the mares. They had no previsions, almost no ammo and where stuck in the middle of nowhere with a legendary monster and somepony they thought was completely insane.

We walked along in silence for what felt like a short eternity. Everypony was too nervous to make decent conversation. The forest floor was thick with ferns and tiny bunches of rich hued flowers. The dense, coniferous trees thinned enough to see the overcast sky as we neared the crumbling highway. The rolling clouds that I had once found so intriguing made me rather depressed, knowing that a few selfish ponies had decided that Celestia's light may never bless Equestria again.

‘>Route 24, Canterlot Highway’

My PipBuck tagged the road the moment I set hoof on it. The road extended as far as I could see in both directions, ending in a thick, pink cloud to the south and a hill topped with the little signs I had seen earlier to the north. According to automap we had only walked a third of the way to Saddlebag Storage. I doubted I could stand the rest of the trip in silence. I had to make conversation with somepony, anypony.

“So, Baron,” I said walking beside the silver mare. “You’ve been around for a while right?”

“You could say that,” the steel coated pegasus replied. “One or two centuries. Why?”

“I ran into a name back in Xeruth’s Potions that’s been nagging at me. Do you know a zebra named Xenophon?”

“Xenophon?“ Baron asked. “He is the Tribunus of the Northern Legion and probably the single most dangerous creature in the north; even more so than the Brood Mother.”

That was where I heard that name, he was one of the zebra commanders who got a passing mention in history. He was supposed to have been some sort of hotshot tactician in the war; the Legate’s protégé or something like that. Now to find out what this Brood Mother was… hold up. ‘Is’? “What do you mean is?” I asked, cocking my ears. “That was over two hundred years ago. How could he still be alive?”

“You didn’t question my age.”

“I just figured you were lying,” I replied with a shrug. “You’re really over a hundred years old?”

“Yes,” Baron replied flatly. “I will be two hundred and thirty eight in autumn to be precise.”

Riiight. Two hundred year old pony my fluffy, golden flank. Best humor the delusional psychopath for the time being. “So Xenophon is just like you?” I asked skeptically. “Whatever you are.”

“No,” the silver pony replied uncomfortably. It was rather unnerving to hear that supernatural, booming voice expressing anything other than boredom or anger. “Xenophon is nothing like me. I may be a monster, but I am nothing compared to that fiend. Xenophon is a ruthless abomination of dark magic, armed with the physical manifestation of consummate hatred.”

Well… that was quite unsettling. I was starting to reassess the value of silence. Maybe the radio would have something more cheery to say. I fiddled with the dial until I found The Voice Of Flankorage (DJ P0N3 had gone back to nothing but static.).

“Now for an update from The Crucible,” RFP’s deep, rolling voice flowed out of my PipBuck. “The Ladies of Blood and Flame-”

I clicked the radio off. Never mind, silence it was.

*** *** ***

The Saddlebag Storage warehouse was little more than a big, grey, concrete box. Two centuries of decay did little to make it any more aesthetically interesting. There were only two entrances that I could see, one personnel entrance and one for wagons. The first term that came to mind was ‘fire hazard’ followed closely by ‘death box’ and ‘blatant trap’. It may have been the architecture. It may have been intuition... Or it may have had something to do with the piss poor job somepony had done trying to hide a large spark wagon with titanic wheels behind a shrub less than half it’s size.

“We appear to have some company,” Baron said as if she was merely commenting on the weather. “I am sorry, but this may delay us a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” Maple asked from behind me. She had been quiet for so long I was starting to worry about her. “They may be stupid, but it looks like they may have some good gear.”

“How fortunate for you then,” the silver mare said disinterestedly as she cantered up to the personnel entrance. “When I kill them you may count all of their equipment as part of your reward.” She bucked the door open.

*BOOM!*

The steel coated pegasus was blown back in a shower of shrapnel, gravel and fire. She tumbled end over end, finally crashing into a young pine tree and nearly snapping it in half.

“Come on!” Flights called frantically from the back of the group. “Its dead! Lets go before whoever set up that trap comes back!” The lime green unicorn shuttered. “Or worse, Baron’s curse gets us!”

A murmur of consent came from the rest of my company.

According to my E.F.S. Baron wasn’t dead , but she wasn’t moving either. I was honestly a bit disappointed. Could it really be that easy to defeat this mass murderer?

The silver mare pulled herself back to her hooves, peppered with bleeding holes but seemingly unfazed. Pine needles, wood splinters and chunks of shattered concrete were stuck all over her body with a mix of blood and tree sap making her look more like a moving statue than a real pony..

“Of course not,” my frigged delusion sighed.

Baron hacked up a mass of blood and I could have sworn I saw bits of teeth and metal mixed in as well. “After I fix my armor,” she continued as if exploding had only hurt her about as much as a swat to the nose. “You will want to watch your step; the building appears to be mined.” A small, metal cylinder extended from one of her helmet's steel, spine guard plates with a hiss. “For safety I will take point.” The protrusion slammed back into the apparatus, causing the silver pegasus to squeeze her eyes shut and shiver.

The foal killer’s numerous wounds all knitted shut in a matter of seconds. That was disheartening. I could see at least nineteen more of the little syringes hidden in the headgear. There was no telling what other potions were loaded in that thing. This would make killing this monster a lot more difficult when the time came.

“Come along,” Baron instructed us as if she were talking to a group of school kids. She walked back to the mangled door. “I doubt the fools who set up this little welcome would hesitate to shoot you. Most who hunt me will slaughter anypony around so they don’t need to share my bounty...” She seemed to lose focus and begun talking more to herself than to us, sounding almost sad. “More Innocent ponies have died at the hooves of those chasing me than by my own.”

“Did ya hear that?!” a raspy mare’s voice yelled with excited glee from the warehouse. “I got ‘em!” A scarred violet unicorn barreled outside, oblivious to her surroundings She was wearing a peculiar combination of an armored vest and a ruffled skirt so short that it only half covered the bomb on her flank. “Tell the King that I-!”

*Crackle!*

The steel wrapped pegasus surged forward at speeds nearly comparable to Echo’s and slammed her sparking hoof into the purple unicorn. The demo mare shook and spasmed as the ruinous lightning engulfed her.

“I don’t like mines,” Baron said to the smoldering corpse. “You never know who will set them off.”

“Sable?!” a much deeper mare’s voice called out. “Oh shit! It’s still alive! Get ready!”

According to my E.F.S. there were five others in the building, all hostile. They were darting around, no doubt preparing for Baron’s inevitable assault.

“I will handle this,” Baron said, marching into the building. “This won’t take long.”

“This doesn't feel right,” Maple grumbled in my ear, readying her guns. “Are we really going to let this criminal kill all the ponies in there?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “They did attack first, my PipBuck labels them as hostile and if they are as indiscriminate as Baron says they are...” I glanced back and forth between the security mare and the warehouse. "But they’re still ponies... I just don’t know.”

“There it is!” a third voice, this one a buck’s, bellowed from deeper in the building. “Blast it!” The sound of gunfire echoed from the destroyed personnel entrance.

“Goddess save us!” the deep voiced mare screamed. “Its not stopping!” The gunfire was quickly replaced with shrieks and grotesque cracking noises as the red dots on my mini map vanished one by one.

“Please!” the mare begged. She was the last one alive and her E.F.S. contact was right in
front of Baron’s. “I’m sorry! I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything!”

*Crunch!*

The last red dot disappeared.

“You may enter now,” Baron called, sounding slightly out of breath.

I had come this far so I might as well see it through. I cautiously approached the entrance, taking care to avoid the burnt body of the demo mare.

Saddlebag Storage was little more than a large, empty room crisscrossed with catwalks. An elevated office was suspended over the warehouse floor and a stairwell labeled ‘basement’ was nestled in the back. The ponies who had tried to ambush Baron were strewn across the vast chamber. All of them were burnt and had their bodies twisted into unnatural angles. One buck’s head had even been embedded in the concrete wall and his body was still flailing. The silver pegasus was standing by the staircase that lead down to the basement, tapping her armored hoof impatiently.

“Your companions may wait here,” Baron boomed, descending the stairs and gesturing for me to follow. “This shouldn't take long.”

The hunter pony led me down through a series of decrepit corridors and into a modest sized chamber with a thick, metal door linked to a terminal on the back wall. “This is it,” she said, indicating to the wall vault. “I need you to open that door.”

“Oookay...” I said skeptically as I approached the wall terminal. “Wouldn’t Echo be a better choice for this?”

“No.”

Well I guessed that was that. The PipBuck’s hacking interface opened up and immediately closed again.

‘>Error.’

‘>Emergency bypass impossible.’

‘>Please contact the system administrator for assistance.’

I sighed. There was no way this would go over well. “Baron,” I said cautiously, turning to the imposing flyer. “I can’t get in.”

“Correct,” Baron replied calmly. That was unexpected. “Here.” The armored mare’s helmet produced a thin, leaf shaped ruby that looked like it would fit perfectly into the slot on the SpikeBuck. “Take it.”

I magically grabbed the gem and floated it over to my PipBuck for identification. It was beautiful and almost seemed to have lines of pulsing light running through it is complex patterns.

‘>PipSpike’

“Try again.”

“All right,” I said hesitantly as I waved my fetlock computer in front of the terminal again.

‘>Error.’

‘>Emergency bypass impossible.’

‘>Please contact the systt;n;bnwgbgvkjwbfh;qf;lbakfb;kj’

That couldn’t be good.

‘>Use PipSpike X1’’

‘>Yes/No?’

“Here goes nothing,” I mumbled as I pressed yes.

As soon as my hoof touched the button Baron’s PipSpike’s faint patterns of light brightened until it was wrapped in a sheath of sparkling red magic, dispelling my own golden glow. My PipBuck was enveloped in a similar field and was making my leg move on its own. I desperately struggled to reassert control over my body, but to no avail. My fore leg was dragged into the air and the crystal leaf slid into the SpikeBuck’s socket.

The automated magic pulled my hoof back and lined up the PipSpike with the terminal’s access port. No, no, no, no, no, no. I wanted to hack into the computer, not hack it to pieces. It was no use, I had no power over my own body. I slammed the fragile looking spike straight through the terminal’s steel casing. The glow around my hoof twisted my fetlock, breaking the PipSpike off inside the machine.

‘>Access DeB*&Rfbfva93f’

The computer’s screen filled with continually changing random symbols before going completely dark.

Oh crap! I broke it! Baron is going to kill me, and probably everypony else around. What am I gona do?

‘>Too Many Secrets’

‘>Access Granted’

‘>Disengaging lock.’

“Huh?” I said out loud as I regained control of my body and dropped to my haunches. “What just happened?”

The huge, steel vault screeched open on ancient hinges. Four bolts, easily the size of my leg, were recessed in the two hoof thick hatch. Inside a steel room barely large enough for a pony to fit in was a single wooden box a little over one hoof long on each side. All this effort for a little box?

Baron cantered past me and scooped up the box in her wings, cradling it as if it was her child. “Thank you,” the armored pony rumbled in some feeble attempt to sound gentle as she nuzzled the lid. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“You went through my gang for that?” a deep, gravelly voice growled from behind us. “You fucking pussy!”

Ocher you bucking idiot! You have an upgraded E.F.S. use it! I swung around and pulled up my beam rifle. Baron followed suit after gently setting the box back down.

Standing in the doorway was a bright red stallion who was built like a scrapper. He had a close cropped, blond mane and tail with mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes. He was completely unarmored save for a pare of armored shoes that looked similar to Baron’s. His cutie mark was the symbol for balefire radiation; I had to wonder how somepony could get a flesh melting hazard for a talent.

“I am feeling generous,” the silver pegasus replied with a dangerous rumble. “So I will not fight you. I have what I came for, there is no need for you to die.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” the crimson buck chuckled as he closed the steel door behind him. “I’m gona kick your ass.”

“This is your last chance,” the armored mare replied. “It doesn’t need to go this way.”

“Who do you think I am?” the blond pony responded indignantly, dropping into a fighting stance. “I’m the King and there’s only two ways this can go... in both of them, you die.”

“Very well,” Baron said, making her hoof weapons spark menacingly. “Ocher, get in the vault and protect my box.”

I was loath to follow the orders of a foal killer, but at the moment she was the one who, according to my E.F.S. at least, didn't want me dead. I levitated the box and backed into the vault, jamming a peace of rubble into the hinges.

The two giant ponies circled each other like sharks. In a flash Baron charged the bounty hunter and slammed the back of her hoof into his face. The buck’s sunglasses were knocked across the floor revealing his blood red eyes, but he seemed more pissed off than hurt.

*Crack!*

“Eat The Mighty Hoof you bitch!” the King bellowed as he spun around and bucked the silver mare across the room with his armored hooves. “Nopony fucks with my shades.”

Baron crashed into the far wall leaving a discernible impression in the concrete. The armored mare’s breastplate had been caved in and she seemed to be struggling to breath. Regardless she got back on her hooves and charged back into the fray.

The hunter pony just kept barreling into combat, scoring blow after blow on the red buck’s legs, but every time she seemed to be gaining the advantage she would be wracked by a fit of wheezing coughs. Her opponent took every opportunity he was given, using his magically enhanced hoof strikes to drive Baron’s dented armor deeper and deeper into her barrel.

In their fifth exchange the King drove his hooves clean through the silver pegasus’ weakened armor and half way through her chest. The foal killer, who was my only ally against this juggernaut spasmed and collapsed, clutching her shattered rib cage. Baron’s white light vanished from my E.F.S., leaving me alone with the hostile, blond buck.

“I told ya, you little cunt,” the King spat at Baron’s corpse. “Its my way or... hell, its just my way.”

I never thought I would lament the death of a serial killer, but that mare had been my only hope. I brought up my beam rifle. Maybe I could take him down if I got lucky and hit him in the eye.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” the blond stallion sneered a he hobbled over to his sunglasses. “I wonder what Baron’s boy toy would be worth to the Unity. That Gelwin bitch needs to get layed.”

Boy toy?! I growled and crouched down. What was I doing?! I stood no chance against the bounty hunter, but I would be damned if I was going to be chained to some slaver’s bed.

With what sounded like wet velcro Baron’s signal blinked back on my E.F.S. The hunter’s silver helmet dome and metal spine riped out of the rest of her armor on six needle like legs. The device looked like a metal horseshoe crab with its underside coated in bloody barbs and needles.

“The fuck are you lookin at bitch?” the King asked just as the robotic crab leaped at him clamping its self to the back of his head.

I just sat there, starring in horror as the machine used its hooks to dig into the blond pony’s back.

The red stallion's butch facade crumbled in an instant. “What?! No!” he screamed, his voice cracking terribly. “Please! Don’t!” The robotic helmet shot dozens of metal needles into his spine making his body go completely ridged. “I’m sorry! I didn’t believe!” he was crying like a foal. “You can’t do this to me! I’m The King! Mother Fuc-!”

*WREEEEEEEEE*

With a what sounded like a chirping blender the King’s body started spasming as a stream of red and grey ooze fountained out of the harness. His E.F.S. signal was blinking back and forth between red and white.

The bounty hunter’s signal stabilized on white as he stopped quaking and the jet of gore slowed to trickle. Baron‘s unnatural voice boomed from the red buck as he flipped the thick, mirrored sunglasses back on “Hail to The King, baby.” The stallion shook his head, sending droplets of the bloody slime spraying in all directions. “Ugh. Where did that come from?”

I brought my beam rifle up and entered S.A.T.S. This thing was just wrong, whatever it was. I targeted the apparatus.

‘>B.A.R.O.N. >Head >85%’

“Baron?” I asked in disbelief, letting S.A.T.S. fail and backing as far into the vault as I could. “What are you?”

“Black Apple Robotic Operative,” the King said. No, not the King, Baron. B.A.R.O.N.? Whatever it was started advancing on me. “Model N.” In a wash of static BARON’s (Yeah, lets go with that) voice warped into the King’s, “ I don’t let many ponies know what I really am.”

“If you want to take my life I will make you pay dearly for it,” I stammered, stepping out of the vault and trying to gather what was left of my courage. “Nothing is free.”

“A wise motto,” BARON replied calmly, still advancing. “But I have no intention of killing you.”

“You don’t?” I asked, lowering my weapon slightly.

“No,” the large stallion said evenly, stopping less than a hoof from my gun barrel. “I may be a monster, but I am a monster of my word. I promised to escort you or leave you alone and I can’t do that if you are dead. But at the moment I just want my box.”

“Okay...” said with a mixture of confusion and fear as I floated the box to his hooves.

The hunter pony reverently lifted the lid. The box was lined with pink satin and only held one item, a small statue of Fluttershy surrounded by numerous small animals. The loving smile BARON gave the trinket looked hideously disturbing with the streams of gore that leaked out from under the harness. “I’m here now,” he... she... it cooed at the inanimate object. “I’ll protect you... Oh that son of a bitch.”

BARON scooped up the statue in his mouth and shoved me back into the vault. Four of the harness’ injectors pumped something into the hunter pony as he slammed the massive door shut in my face. A split second before I was locked in the steel safe I saw the skin on his cheek boil and form what looked like an armored pony cutie mark.

With a cacophonous boom my entire metal prison was lifted in the air. As I came back down my head slammed against the steel door and everything went white.

*** *** ***

“Ow,” I moaned, rubbing my head and trying to ignore the slue of medical alerts that flooded my E.F.S. “Yes, I know I have a broken rib. Its my rib, I can feel it. Thank you.” How long had I been out? “Ugh.” I lit my horn as I tried to reorient myself. The vault’s door was twisted half off its hinges and was hanging ajar. Outside I could see some disturbingly familiar earthen tunnels.

“Aw crap!” I yelled at Equestria as a whole. “Zebra tunnels again?!”

“Shut up you twit!” my delusion scolded me. “Did you forget what’s in these Celestia forsaken hell holes? Or do you want to call every demon in the valley?”

I gulped. “Sorry,” I whispered back abashed.

“Look,” the icy voice continued. I could almost see the blue me shaking his head in my beam rifle scope. “We like Scoop right?”

“Yes,” I responded without hesitation.

“We trust her right?”

“Yes...” I replied again. Where was he going with this?

“Then relax. She said these were a bunker system and a bunker is useless without a way in or out.”

“We didn’t find one last time,” I snapped at him.

“We didn’t know what to look for then,” the frigged crazy continued, ignoring my outburst. “Luna knows how many hidden doors we passed. If we just look for roots like the one BARON showed us we should be out in no time. You can do this.”

“Oh,” I groaned, wrapping my chest in a telekinetic braise. “But what if I can’t?”

“You can,” the voice insisted. “You just have to keep it together. Keep! It! Together!”

*** *** ***

“Are you sure about this path?” I asked myself. “We haven’t seen another fork for ten minutes.”

“Trust me,” the voice responded. “Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

I had maintained a constant dialogue with myself since I left the wrecked safe. While it probably wasn't doing wonders for my sanity it did help me calm my nerves. When not trying to convince me to betray my friends the icy voice was a surprisingly good conversationalist. He was still an ass though.

“On that note,” my crazy continued with an evil sounding chuckle. “You still owe me a wallow in an unspecified substance and I know how much you hate owing anything.”

“I promise, first chance I get, I‘ll go wallow in… whatever it is ponies are supposed to wallow in.”

“Now?” I asked irritably. “You’re bringing this up now?”

“Yes I am,” he replied unapagogically, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I just figured out what I want you to wallow in.” I could swear I saw him with a mischievous grin in my rifle scope reflection. “How about you take a roll in a little bit of reporter pony?”

An image flashed in my mind. The little, blue mare was sprawled out on her back in my bed back in my shop. Her spiky, midnight blue mane wreathed her blushing face on my pillow. Her notebook was laying open between her hind legs, just barely covering everything.

My face went completely red (An impressive feat for a gun metal gray pony). “You can’t be serious,” I stammered, shaking my head. “I couldn’t.”

“You were never this much of a prude with Primrose,” the cold voice continued. “You two would discuss your exploits in the middle of the market just to fluster the other ponies.”

“That was different!” I barked. “She has been one of my best friends since we were foals. I just met Scoop a little over a day ago.”

“Don’t give me those horse apples,” the delusion scolded. “You’ve wanted to get under her tail since you got all cozy with her on the train. And you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how snuggley she has gotten with you. With how sporadic you’ve been acting no sane mare would get that close unless she wanted you.”

“But, but she is younger than me…” I stammered. “And that behavior was your fault.”

“What is four years in the long run?” my icy crazy asked. I could see my reflection shrug. “You’re both adults. Get over it.”

“Fine,” I said indignantly. “What do you want me to do? Trot up to her and say: ‘Hay hot flank, want to go behind that rock and screw?’”

“I would have suggested flowers and a romantic dinner,” he snickered. “But if you think you can pull off the direct approach more power to you.”

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled at him.

“Don’t talk about your mother like…” the voice trailed off. “Hush. I hear something.”

He was right, there was something echoing down the tunnel. It sounded almost like an unearthly choir singing in an oddly familiar language that sent chills down my spine. The radial shadows cast by my horn light twisted and seemed to stretch towards the music.

“Don’t just stand there,“ the icy voice instructed me sounding very nervous. “Hide, you twit and turn you horn off.”

That was a very good idea. I shut down my horn light and used my mini map to locate a nook I could curl up in. Two dots, one white and one red appeared at the edge of my scanner’s range. The chant was getting louder and clearer. I was actually able to make out a few distinct words; I still couldn’t understand them, but they reminded me of the lyrical broadcast I had heard outside Boxxie’s cave.

The dot stopped a mere yard from my hiding place. “A little mouse has gotten lost in my maze,” a voice that sounded like somepony was gargling nails echoed with one of a singer called out. “Show yourself so I may dispel your haze.” A zebra?! This couldn’t be good. I stayed in my hiding spot, my beam rifle pointed at the entrance. “This grows tiring little mouse,” the creepy zebra continued. “For you are now a guest in my house. I know where you hide in fear. I will be cross if you do not appear.”

Something told me whatever the thing was did indeed know where I had wedged myself. Without the element of surprise I would be easy pickings so I reluctantly crawled from the nook and relit my horn.

The creature standing in front of me made me want to retch. It was a zebra stallion, a little shorter than me, who looked like he had been dead for months. His flesh was a waxy amber color where it should have been white, and beetle shell black on his stripes, all drawn tight over his skeleton. His patchy mane actually looked more grotesque for all the grooming that was obviously put into it. He was wearing a suit of red leather armor with complex, gold filigree running between medallions of carved jet.

The horror’s eyes were hollow pits filled with dark purple flames and an intricate glaive that seemed to be the source of the singing was floating behind him, wrapped in an identical, burning glow. Zebras weren't supposed to have magic! The blade seemed to be pulling my light into it. The longer I stared at it the more nauseous I became as the world seemed to twist around it, but no matter how ill I felt I couldn’t pull my eyes away.

“It is a pony I see,” the dead zebra sang in his unnatural voice, allowing me to tear my eyes away from the magic weapon. “You were wise not to flee. Your plight must be truly grave. For you to brave the dangers of this cave.”

“I, um, you see,” I stammered. Celestia save me, it was a zombie! It was going to eat me! No, no. It’s talking to me.

“Some of them, called ghouls, are just ponies trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

Yeah, that’s right. Maybe it was one of the nice ones... who was a zebra... with eyes made of fire.

“You are right to fear me child of Nightmare Moon,” the regally dressed corpse continued, advancing on me menacingly. “You shall face your judgement soon.”

Well, that ruled out “poor soul just trying to help”. I brought up my beam rifle and entered S.A.T.S.

“>Tribunus Xenophon. >Head, Chest, Chest. >95%, 95%, 95%.’

*Fizt!* *Fizt!* *Fizt!*

Six lances of searing light spat from my magical weapon, burning smoldering holes through the undead zebra. My final shot grew to envelop the beast’s chest. That’s right monster, burn to ash!

In a flash of violet flame the spread of my weapon’s disintegrating energy slowed and began to retreat to the initial wound. HE SURVIVED!? Not only had I nearly vaporised him but there were holes cut clean through his head and two more that should have pierced his heart. The wounds left by my beams were leaking wisps purple smoke that had the sickly sweet smell of rotting vegetation.

“You insolent foal,” the seemingly immortal zebra said, sounding more disappointed than angry. “I shall purify your tainted soul.” He stepped in close to me, twisting and bobbing around my attempts to line up another shot. In a blur of hoof strikes he knocked my beam rifle from my telekinetic grip and kicked all of my legs out from under me.

I rolled onto my back and fished the nova surge pistol from one of my numerous pockets. Maybe he would be more susceptible to melting than vaporising. I looked up to see his pole arm hovering right above my face. “Oh crap.”

“AAAAAAAGGH!” I shrieked as the unnaturally burning blade came down on my left eye. All I could see were violet flames enveloping me in nauseating agony. I arched my back and kicked at the ruinous blade to no avail. I started to lose feeling in my limbs as all the heat in my body felt as if it was being pulled towards the weapon to fuel its eldritch flames. I had to force in breath with sharp gasps as the flames consumed more and more of my strength.

“Ah, I see you are a little Frostborn spy,” the zebra commented, examining my still weakly flailing legs. “I fear your fate must now be worse than to simply die.” He yanked the blade out of my eye, but I was to drained to even scream. I felt lessened, not quite a husk, but greatly diminished. The weapon had consumed more than my flesh and warmth, it had left a throbbing pain that I couldn't place anywhere on my body.

Four more zebras in similar armor approached from behind the zombie, these ones alive. “Take this one and bind him on the hill,” the monster instructed the others. “We shall show them the price of contesting my will.”

*** *** ***

My entire body was enveloped in burning pain. My waking spasm caused a whole new wave of stabbing agony to shoot up my front legs as something sharp and cold ripped into my flesh. A steady trickle of blood was flowing down my face from my shattered horn and ruined eye. I could feel my own weight crushing down on my lungs, making me fight for every breath. My heart was burning as if it was trying to pump white hot molasses through my veins.

Biting my lip, I slowly opened my eyes. My entire left side was enveloped in darkness. The frigid wind biting into my injury forced my to snap my eyelids shut again. I sucked a few stabbing breaths and tried again with only my right eye.

I was bound by my front legs at least twenty hooves in the air, hanging above the highway. My broken hind legs were dangling limply, blood still trickling out of my flayed flanks forming into slick, half frozen sheets that ran down the length of my thighs. My exposed muscles were on fire, every slight breeze felt like rusty knifes were being raked across the raw flesh.

What I thought were sign posts from Xeruth’s Potions had turned out to be something far worse. All along the road were ponies. Dozens of ponies trussed up to wooden posts with moons carved over their skinned cutie marks.

They were all dead and slowly becoming food for the dozens of giant, bloated, multihued insects that buzzed around below me like a cloud of macabre confetti.

One of the profanely colorful scavengers landed on the exposed meat of my leg. I couldn’t even muster the strength to kick it off and every attempt to use my magic felt like a drill was being slowly driven through my splintered horn and directly into my brain. I grimaced as the little horror took a small bite out of me, forcing me to feel its bolt cutter like jaws slice into my thigh. The tiny beast promptly spat out the chunk of pony meat and flew off. Thank Celestia for small favors.

With the insect no longer trying to eat me alive I strained to lift my head and turned it slowly from right to left. I was lashed to a large sign, with my front legs stretched out to my sides and bound by razor wire to ‘Flankorage’ to my right and ‘Canterlot’ to my left. My flayed flanks were nailed just beyond the tips of each of my hooves, so close that I could almost touch the gold coins that were my cutie marks. The very symbols of who I was where fluttering in the wind like grim banners.

The highway stretched between the two cities on the horizons, one of cold steel to the north, ringed with a towering wall and one of decaying marble to the south, enveloped in a swirling pink cloud.

My extremities were already becoming numb. I had already lost all feeling in my hooves. I was dying and I knew it. I let my head drop back to my chest. Nopony could be seen for miles in any direction. I was alone.

“Icy,” I called out weakly. “Icy, delusion, madness, stress, whatever you are, please. Are you there? Please, for the love of Celestia answer me.“

The ever present voice in my head remained silent. “Please,” I begged, tearing up in my remaining eye. “Please talk to me. Somepony, anypony, say something. Please, please, please.”

I sobbed as I felt my consciousness start fading “I don’t want to die alone.”

All alone.

Footnote: Level Up
New Perk: -- You Big, Dumb Meany! : You can draw on considerable reserves of power when stressed. +1 str when your HP drops below 50%.
New Quest Perk: -- Soul Feeder: A necromantic attack has left you permanently diminished, reducing your lifespan considerably, but you are now far more resistant to necromancy and other magic that targets your life force.

This is a story based off the magnificent work of Kkat (Fallout Equestria)

(Special thanks to DiceArt, No One and Otherunicorn for helping me go over this and making it as good as it could be. And to all the good folks at Fallout: Equestria Side Stories Compilation)

Comments

[The Magister]

...You freaking crucified him. Just...I did not see that coming.

Something you should edit: "“If you say so,” I replied skeptically, looking at the massive bugs with revolution." It should be "revulsion", which is synonymous with disgust, if that was your intended word.
Sorry, when I see glaring errors I have to correct it.

[gapaot]

Oh... fuck! That was unexpected. B.A.R.O.N. - robot, keeping his promises? Xenophone? necromancy? Main char - nailed to cross, crippled and left to die alone? You are awesome writer! Keep it up!

I wonder what his party will do. Echo will search for him, that's for sure, she ows him life. Marple too. Slaves.... follow them two, I think.

[Kashin]

119146
thanks, fixing

[Damhoof]

"If we fight now there is now way we would win" = No way we would win.

This is nice. Very nice.

HAIL TO THE KING BABY!

This is pretty good, I like his inner voice, and PCTSD or post combat traumetic stress disorder is a neat angle. ^_^

[NeverKnown]

Wow thats something right there i wassent expecting it 0_0 i must have more!!!!

[Freeflyingwolf]

I noticed you made him fluffier in the picture, nice touch. I even had to go back to make sure I wasn't crazy.

Right, so small review once again. Firstly I can just say that I think I found a spelling error. You wrote "I'm going to do it for the ponies he killed" I think you forgot the "s" right? And I got a bit of Fantomen/The Phantom feel from Baron tbh, cept a bit more "Batman" in the morale sector. When it came to the "let me see him part", my first reaction was "yeah, she got a coup de grace feat to make it a standard action" xP
And the rhyming part was done rather well. And while I normally am quite "meh" about females (and males) taking "that" kind of initiative in stories, it fits well in 3 ways. Firstly, it's MLP, so there's no gender roles really. Secondly, it's fallout, so it works there as well. And thirdly, it was done was, not too rushed nor done in a stupid manor. And hum, a zebra equivalent of a "super ghoul", sort of.

On a side note, does he choose when to turn the "old" targeting spell on or off? Since I can't recall him changing back, and the older version just showed white dots right? And ha, you also use "demo-mare" xP Totally unrelated, but it would be really ... something if somepony in the stories actually responded to the "Please, I'll do anything"... don't mind me, just my mind trailing off... again. The Baron turned out to be rather interesting tbh. And once again, the zebra rhymes are rather neatly done. (btw, "the strength" is spelled twice.) Gotta say the part after the safe was quite a surprise however. Gotta say the ending reminded me of one of the death endings in Fallout tactics however, "as you lay there, bleeding out on the ground, you realised, you are going to die a virgin.".

DAT. CLIFFHANGER. Did Ocher just surpass Blackjack of all ponies in pain?! In half the time?! I am... I'm shocked! Which is awesome for you, you chained me to this story. Not pulling any punches at all! This is the chapter where I lost any doubt you can match the top dogs in writing for Fallout Equestria. I just... I can't see how Ocher can get out of this, and I desperately wanna read more.

Okay... *Deep breath* I'm calming down. I am willing to wait. Beyond the cliffhanger, we got a lot deeper into Baron, and I wouldn't be terribly shocked if he/she/it? became the next party member. I also finally figured out that the characters change in the picture as the story continues. (Ocher is gonna be a wreck in the next picture. This one he's just furry.) Also finally figured out the other spots are the cutie marks of the other companions. We also got another look at Ocher's mental voice, who I'm starting to think is more then just PTSD... So, a lot to look forward to.

Finally, loved how you wrote Ocher at the end. Ocher isn't a a soldier, not experienced like Blackjack or Littlepip. And you showed that. And I love Ocher even more for the fact we see that he just left his stable a few days ago. He's just a store clerk that got way over his head. And I love him for fighting the good fight even more for it. Keep up the awesome work!

[ScottWolf]

FOUND IT! I'm good now ^.=.^

[StatusQo]

He just got F'ed up so much, I like it, the hero aint some superman not get fataly hurt at all.