Fallout Equestria: Ashes to Ashes

by Swordslinger

Go Your Way

Standing on a ridge overlooking the Red Racer garage, Braeburn had an excellent view of the valley and the City of Vanhoover. He had walked for about an hour, if his Pipbuck’s time was correct, but during that time, he hadn’t seen a hair of life in between the Stable and his destination, just charred trees and malformed hills. Each step was heavy, and he was quickly growing tired of the “creaking” sound his metal hooves would make as they adjusted for his weight. Maybe one day he would get used to it, but for now, each leg of the journey was a trial. It didn’t help that after the initial shock had worn off, Braeburn was starting to feel the drowsiness that came from waking up after two hundred years, and his legs weren’t the only thing feeling heavy. He was lucky he was able to find the Red Racer Garage so soon, otherwise he might have risked finding a place to camp for the time being.

Looking down at the dirt path that would lead him to the garage, Braeburn jumped off the small ledge and started to head down towards the garage. As he came close, the worn down state of the garage served as reminder of just broken this nightmare was. Where there was once a proud, one story building that was painted red with a large garage where any manner of machinery could be made, there was now only a remnant of what it once was. Approaching the closed shutter door, Braeburn kneeled down and grabbed the bottom. Adjusting his grip slightly, Braeburn heaved, but the door resisted his pull and only rattled slightly.

Stepping back, Braeburn frowned, spit into his hooves, rubbed them together, and tired again. “Come on ya little…..Gah!” Throw back slightly, Braeburn winced and looked at his hooves. They blistered red and hurt like hell, blowing on them with his mouth, Braeburn attempted to suppress the pain with little success, “Okay, new plan, Let’s find another door.” He said to himself, trying very hard to ignore his hooves’ pain. Waltzing around to the side, Braeburn stopped abruptly when he noticed three red blips appearing on his compass. Not only that, but he could also some strange “scurrying” coming from nearby, if his encounter with the Radroach taught him anything, it was that if something was making a strange sound, it was probably dangerous.

Drawing his pistol and putting it into his mouth, Braeburn blinked in surprise as a crosshair suddenly appeared in his vision. What in tarnation is this thing? Braeburn thought, raising his arm to look at the Pipbuck, this had the unfortunate effect of distracting him for a few seconds, and so, when something decided to bite down on his right arm, right through his jumpsuit’s sleeve, he had only himself to blame.

Yelping in pain, Braeburn acted in panic, violently grabbing whatever the hell was trying to eat him. For the first time ever, Braeburn was glad he had fingers when he wrenched off the damn thing and held it in front of him for viewing. It squirmed in his grip, and hissed at him. It’s bucked teeth covered in Braeburn’s blood, it was a large, rodent like thing with short, sharp, stubbly claws. Braeburn’s heads up display listed it as a “Molerat.”

Braeburn knew what Mole rats were, had them back all the time in Appleloosa, but he certainly didn’t recall them looking like that.

As it squirmed in his grip, Braeburn cringed as it started to draw blood from his hoof. Squeezing on the mouth trigger of the .10 millimeter pistol, the Mole rat’s head lurched backwards when the lead bullet injected itself into the creature’s skull and came out the other side. Tossing the corpse aside, Braeburn turned to face the others.

Just in time to get a Mole rat leaping at his face.

In any other situation, it would’ve been actually quite funny. Braeburn made an expression between terror and like somepony had just stolen his favorite whiskey, but the panicked expression caused him to drop his pistol while the Mole rat’s fangs and mouth was extended like something out a comic book. During this, Braeburn backpedaled and fell due to not being used to his legs. The end result of all this was the Mole rat having an akin to expression of surprise as it missed it’s lunge and went sailing over Braeburn’s head, right into a conveniently placed steel pole face first with a satisfying THUNK.

When Braeburn landed, he scrambled for his pistol while the Mole rat stumbled around in a daze, it’s head bloodied from the impact. Thankfully for Braeburn, the pistol landed not that far away and soon he had it back into his hooves. There was little time to put it back into it’s proper firing place, so Braeburn opted to simply fire it from his fingered hooves. Holding it awkwardly with the clip facing the side, Braeburn squeezed the trigger, naturally, the shot went off it’s intended course, but it did score a lucky hit on the Mole rat’s back left leg, crippling it.

As it yelped in pain, Braeburn spent a moment to look around for the last one. He found it alright, it was chewing on his left hoof, which, again, was made entirely out of metal. As it munched on Braeburn’s “foot” with no apparent success, Braeburn almost casually leveled the pistol near it’s skull and pulled the trigger. Once again, Braeburn scored a clean headshot. As the Mole rat’s corpse bled freely from a gaping close range bullet wound, Braeburn twisted around to see the last one limping away. Leveling the gun at it, Braeburn frowned. Apparently, this thing also read his ammo supply, and so far, he had only ten shots left in the clip, and nothing left to reload. Better to let it be then, forcing himself up, Braeburn glanced at his wound and grimaced. He needed bandages, some alcohol to disinfect the wound, and probably some stitches, unless a health potion was nearby that is. But he wasn’t that lucky, if the current trend was anything to go by. Leaving the last Mole rat to fend for itself, Braeburn headed into the Red Racer Garage.

Needless to say, the inside looked little better than the outside. Scattered milk bottles, toppled magazine stands, and cracked tiles. There was a counter on the inside, presumably where customers would pay for any maintenance on their scooters. (Believe it or not, Scootaloo’s scooters were exceedingly complex and inventive, requiring the use of such facilities as this.) Still there should be something that Braeburn could use, this place looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. Going to the door that lead to the garage, Braeburn gently opened the metal door.

Which promptly fell off it’s rusty hinges and clattered to the ground, sending dust everywhere.

Coughing and waving the dust away, Braeburn looked around the garage. It was a small room with all sorts of working tools that a pony could use. A workbench lined with wrenches, hammers, pliers, and so on. There was also a pot suspended over a cooling fire, with a bed mat in the corner, lined to the brim with empty Sparkle-Cola bottles.

….Wait, what?

“Don’t move Bucko.”

Feeling the press of a barrel against the back of his head, Braeburn’s eyes widened. Raising his arms, he turned his head slightly.

“A-ah didn’t mean to intrude, was just looking for a place to stay is all ah was doing.” He said, somewhat calmly considering the circumstances, “Ah’ll just leave if ya let me.”

“Yeah right. Turn around Stable Dweller, and drop the pistol.” The voice was female, but...Stable Dweller?

Following her command, Braeburn did so. Setting the pistol down on the ground, Braeburn turned around to see whoever it was pointing a gun at him. Seeing his captor for the first time, Braeburn had to admit, he had been taken prisoner by a unicorn mare whose dark purple shade seemed a tad bit familiar. She was wearing a heavy brown cloak over her body, and speaking of, she seemed a bit taller than other unicorns. Magenta eyes boring into him with a mane of dark grey with a dark red streak overlapping them, her eyes flickered to Braeburn’s Pipbuck, Stable-Tec suit, fingers, then hooves, in that order. Risking a smile, Braeburn went for the diplomatic approach again, “Now, ah don’t rightly mean to upset ya miss but-”

The Unicorn cocked the shotgun.

“Ah’m thinkin it’d be right proper to let you speak.”

This seemed to be the right call, as she smirked triumphantly, “First things first. What Stable are you from?”

“Err, 100.”

“Good, what was it like?”

“....Fraid ah can’t answer that one Miss.” Braeburn admitted.

“Why not?” She pressed.

“Don’t remember a lot of it.”

“....Riiiigght. Moving on.” Rolling her eyes, she gestured to his hands and feet, “What’s up with Pricks and Kicks there?”

Braeburn looked at his fingers, “Still getting used to them myself Miss.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Three more questions before I blow your head off. Why are you standing like that? Where’d you get that Pipbuck? And does the name, “Lightbringer” mean anything to you?” The Unicorn pushed the shotgun against Braeburn’s chest.

“Mind if ah ask you a few things in return?” Braeburn smiled softly to show he meant no threat.

“We’ll see. Start.”

“Well,” Braeburn thought for a moment, “To tell you the truth, Ah don’t rightfully know about why ah have to stand like this. See, ah had a surgery in that there Stable, it’s where ah got these...things.” Braeburn wiggled his fingers and lifted his hooves to show his point, “That robot said that my hip and spine were injured pretty badly, and it made some...modifications to my skeleton. Don’t ask me how, but Zekes kept going on about how ah was “Subject Minotaur.” Hence why ah also got these.” Directing the unicorn’s attention to the top of his head with his finger, her eyes widened slightly as she spied the horns on the top of his head.

“What, did a kid operate on you? And whose Zekes?” The unicorn asked.

“The robot,....Ah mean the Mister Handy.” Braeburn answered, “Anyway, to answer your second question Miss, this here Pipbuck belonged to a friend of mine.”

“Looks a bit different from the ones I’ve seen.” The unicorn scrutinized it, “Bigger, and the knobs are on the righthoof side. Huh.”

“You’ve seen other Pipbucks?” Braeburn tilted his head, “Well shoot, ah reckon ya know more than ah do Miss. Afraid all ah know about this thing is that it’s called Mark five, or something.”

“Mark five? Huh.” Looking satisfied with the answer, the unicorn lowered her shotgun slightly, “Alright, last question. The Lightbringer, ring any bells?”

Braeburn shook his head, “It sounds like some kind of a song to me Miss. Something DJ-Pon3 might’ve played.”

“You know DJ-Pon3?” The Unicorn asked, then glared at him, “Then how you’ve not heard of the Des-I mean-Lightbringer?” She said quickly.

“Uh, ya talking about Vinyl Scratch right?” Braeburn guessed.

“Who the hell is Vinyl Scratch?” The unicorn snarled, leveling the shotgun back at his head, “Okay, stop shitting me, who the hell are you?”

“My name’s Braeburn Miss.” The stallion gulped, “And ah would be mighty grateful if you lowered that gun away.”

“Okay, Braeburn, here’s how it’s going to work.” The unicorn began, “I’m gonna count to ten, you’re gonna walk outta here, and if you’re not gone by the time I’m done. I’m gonna shoot you.”

Sweat was on Braeburn’s brow, “Well, ah reckon that’s not a bad deal.”

“And you have to leave that purse of yours too.”

“Oh come on!” She leveled the shotgun at him again, “Alright alright shoot. But before ya do, mind if ah ask you some questions now?”

“Alright.” The unicorn shrugged, “I get your stuff either way.”

“First things first, what’s your name?” Braeburn asked, causing the unicorn to stutter.

“W-what? That’s what you want to know?” She demanded, “Are you kicked in the head or something?”

Braeburn frowned, “Ah’ll have you know my mother had me raised good and proper. It’s mighty rude to ask something of somepony without knowing their name.”

“Your mother’s a nut then.” The Unicorn muttered, “Translucent.”

“That’s a pretty name there miss Translucent.” Braeburn grinned.

“Yeah yeah, anything else?” “Translucent” pressed.

“Just a few more things.” Braeburn assured her, “What happened to Celestia and Luna? Shouldn’t they have done something about those bombs dropping on us?”

Translucent snorted, “They’re dead. Common knowledge.” At Braeburn’s glare, she sputtered, “What?”

“Didn’t your mother teach ya not to lie?” He asked coldly, “There ain’t no way that Princess Celestia would let the Zebras get away with letting those bombs drop on my head.”

At this accusation, Translucent backpedaled slightly, “Hey now, I don’t know what rock you crawled out under, but I sure didn’t ask for the world to be in the sorry state it’s in! Wait, your head? The hell are you talking about?”

“Last question.” Braeburn glared, his voice steadily dropping in kindness, “Appleloosa, I reckon you’ve heard of it?”

“A little bit.” Translucent mumbled.

“Good, it’s safe right?”

“Safe?” The unicorn paused in thought, “Are you talking about New Appleloosa or the old one? Cause the old one’s been torn down to the ground…..Hey, are you alright?”

She was lying, she had to be. There was no other reason, Appleloosa wouldn’t...Celestia and Luna, there was no way….

“Strongheart….”

Translucent raised an eyebrow, “Hey, um, you look like you need to sit down, there’s a seat or two around here….”

“What….what happened to the world?” Braeburn asked, his shoulders slumping.

Pausing at his question, Translucent shrugged, “It ended, why? What, did you spend the last two hundred years asleep or something?” She asked, peering at him.

“Ah….Ah….” Tears were starting to well up in his eyes. A nightmare, he was trapped in a nightmare…

“Hey!” Translucent yelped as Braeburn stumbled passed her, brushing her aside with his Pipbuck covered arm. Falling over himself, he wandered out into the afternoon sun.

He needed out, he needed to wake up! This couldn’t be real. The mare had to be lying! There’s no way, they were immortal! They wouldn’t….they couldn’t…..

But…he thought the same about Big Mac….And look how that turned out…

So that meant….two hundred and two years…Oh Luna, Little Strongheart…..

Braeburn fell to his knees, and screamed.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

---

Braeburn lay on the ground, taking in the sweet cool breeze of Appleloosa in the summer time. Next to him, Little Strongheart shifted to lean against his neck, nuzzling him. Next to them were spent bottles of cider, and a half eaten basket of lettuce sandwiches, making a note to finish them off later, Braeburn settled for just sitting quietly with his love on his side.

“Mh, you know, this can’t last forever.” Strongheart said suddenly, causing Braeburn to look at her.

“Don’t say that. This war with the zebras will be over before you know it.” He assured her, “Cousin Aj’s got some new ministry thing lined up that will help ponies all over Equestria. With her help, Princess Luna’s got this whole rotten thing under control.”

“So is that why you got a gun and are hiding it under the floorboards?” Strongheart asked, glaring at him slightly.

“Wel….Ah…” His cheeks burned with embarrassment and looked away shyly.

Kissing his cheek, Strongheart smiled at him, “Oh, relax Braebunny, you know I’m just teasing. I’m sure that we’ll be just fine, now come on, it’s time to go.”

Braeburn frowned, “Do we gotta? It feels like we just got here…”

Strongheart shook her head, standing up and walking past him, “I’m sorry sweetie but….It’s time for you to go.”

Braeburn frowned, “What are ya talking about, Little Strong-”

Before he knew even what happened, the ground around him shook, vibrated, and shattered. The feeling of warmth bearing down on him increased tenfold. No, a thousand fold, like the sun itself was directly on his head. Turning to Little Strongheart, he saw her backing away with wide fearful eyes. Raising his hoof to grasp her, Braeburn’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw four pieces of metal sticking out of him. Looking at his own hoof in shock, Braeburn stared numbly at Little Strongheart, who he now realized wasn’t backing away from some unseen force.

She was backing away from him.

“Strongheart, Ah-Ah don’t….”

Something behind him exploded, and when Braeburn turned to face it, his world became that of fire.

Slowly opening his eyes, Braeburn came back to the nightmare called reality.

His vision was groggy, but he could make a few things out well enough. Looking himself over, he discovered he was laying on a bed mat with a woolen cloth covering him, so far, he was staring at the ceiling of the garage while a fire flickered in the corner of his vision. The very next thing he noticed was the bandage wrapped around his bite wound. Lifting himself up slightly, Braeburn turned to see the unicorn called Translucent sitting next to a fire in the center of the garage, her back facing him. Making a coughing sound to get her attention, Translucent turned to him.

“Ah, you’re up.” She said, trotting over to him, still wearing that heavy cloak.

“What happened?” Braeburn asked.

“You passed out after screaming so much.” Translucent said, sitting her rump down next to him, “Mind telling me what exactly made you scream like that, Stable Dweller?”

“....Ah ain’t a stable dweller.” Braeburn sunk his head back into the mat, “Like ah said, ah don’t remember all that much of it.”

“How come?” Translucent asked.

“The last thing ah remember ‘fore passing out was the bombs dropping, the newscast going off….” Braeburn trailed off, letting Translucent connect the dots, “Then, the next thing ah know for sure, ah’m waking up on a table with….these.” To emphasize his point, Braeburn held up one of his hooves, moving his fingers back and forth. When Translucent opened her mouth, Braeburn cut her off, “And then, some robot called Zekes tells me it’s been two hundred and two years since ah came into the Stable.”

Translucent stared at him, to which Braeburn only replied with a tired look, “So, is it? Has it been two hundred years since those bombs fell?”

“....It has.” Translucent nodded briefly.

Braeburn sighed, “So, did they win?”

“Who?”

“The rotten Zebras.” Braeburn spat out. Zecka would’ve reprimanded him if she was here, but she wasn’t, it was only him. Him, and some Unicorn he didn’t know.

“....The thing about war is, nobody wins.” Translucent said, “I don’t know too much, but I heard that there was a retaliatory strike against them. Don’t know what it did though.”

“Hm, small things, at least.” Braeburn lifted up his Pipbuck to glance at the time. Noting with some reassurance it was still attached to his arm. Apparently she didn’t try to take it off him while he was sleeping. Flicking to the data tab, he spied the onboard clock, it was 8:00 PM, how long had he been out?

“If uh, you don’t me asking…” Translucent said, drawing his attention. There was a sheepish grin on her face, “What was it like? The old world?”

“Before or during the war?” Braeburn asked, causing the unicorn to raise an eyebrow, “Cause one’s a bit different from the other.”

“Uh, both I guess.” Translucent shrugged.

“‘Fore everything went to shit, it was...really nice. At least, seemed like it.” Braeburn said, making the motion of shrugging his shoulders, ah spent most of my days tending to Appleloosa’s apple orchards, course, that was after I finished school at Canterlot Academy.”

“YOU KNEW CANTERLOT?!” Translucent screamed in pure joy, almost flattening Braeburn with the sheer volume of her voice.

Staring at her with wide fearful eyes while she stared back with wide joyful ones, she grinned at him, “Uh, yeah, went to Canterlot Academy.” He gulped, wishing he could edge away from the unicorn. The sinking feeling he had just made a terrible mistake, the only thing he could was dig himself deeper, “All sorts of folks there….were there….”

“Right right, did you ever see the Princesses?” Translucent urged.

“Princess Celestia?” Braeburn asked, to which Translucent nodded, “Only once ah’m afraid. It was at….Big Macintosh funeral.”

Translucent blinked, “.....What?”

“Ah….Ah talked to her, she offered her condolences...Ah said a few things ah shouldn’t have...but ah apologized for it...Ah think…” Braeburn said, his voice hoarse.

“...Why were you at Big Mac’s funeral? I know a little bit about him due to all the memorials, but how do you….”

Braeburn shook his head, “He was my cousin. Same with AJ...Do you know how she....”

“Aj? You mean...Applejack? The Ministry Mare?” Translucent furrowed her brow, connecting the dots in her head.

“Yep, ah actually worked for her a bit before ah joined the service.” Braeburn grinned, there was one part of his past he did like talking about, “Designed a few rifles myself. Like that there shotgun ya’ve got.”

Looking over her shoulder, Translucent levitated the shotgun in a light blue aura and carried it over. Rotating it around, she checked the underside of the barrel as if looking for a designer brand. Now that he had a better look at it, Braeburn managed to identify the shotgun, it was a long barrel Ironshod pump action with a drum cartridge that housed the shells like a revolver. Designed to be used with a Battle Saddle, it was a tad bit heavier than most shotguns and slightly easier to reload, but came at the cost at being slower to fire and a lower ammo count. That said, he had made it for the cylinder could be ejected so a new one could be fitted quickly in a pinch. He had some fun times designing that gun, mostly cause whiskey was involved in the designing process.

“Hmm...I don’t see your name anywhere on it…” Translucent muttered.

“Do ya see any name on it?” Braeburn asked in return. Squinting at it for a moment, Translucent sighed and lowered it to the ground.

“Alright, fair enough…. Braeburn right?” She asked, to which he nodded, “Alright, look, I’ve got a deal for you. Seeing as how you owe me for patching up your wound and oh so graciously gave you a roof over your head.”

“Ah don’t like where this is going….”

“I say that puts you in my debt.” Translucent said as if he hadn’t spoken, “And I take it you’re the kind of pony who repays his debts, right?”

“....Ah reckon so?” Braeburn said, wondering if the door was still too easy to open. To his disappointment, it was put back up and propped up with a cabinet to prevent somepony from leaving or entering.

“Good. Good.” A perverse and evil smile crossed Translucent’s face, “So, from here on out, till I decide you’re free of my service, you are now my pack mule, map-pony, and bullet shield.”

“Ah….Ah don’t quite think that’s fair miss…” Translucent held up the shotgun again, she didn’t quite level it at him, but the action was implied. “But ya make a very persuasive argument miss, ah accept your proposal.”

“Good. By the way, you do know how to shoot a gun right? Not just make them?” Translucent asked.

Braeburn nodded, “Ah served miss, ah can shoot.”

“Good. By the way, it’s not Miss.” She eyed him, “If Translucent’s too long, just call me Lucent, or Lucy if you want.”

“Fair enough mi-Lucent.” Braeburn corrected himself, “But in return, ah want ya to tell me anything ya can about Equestria.”

“Sounds fair.” Lucent agreed, then turned back around towards the fire, “Now then, you hungry? Those Mole rats out front can make some good eating if you cook them right.”

Staring at her from the bed mat, Braeburn’s mouth hung open, “Yer eating meat?”

“Well, yeah.” Lucent shrugged nonchalantly, “There’s not a lot of veggies so I can’t be picky about what I have. Hell, I haven’t eaten your Cram or Sparkle Cola, speaking of which, can I have that?”

“Ah-”

“It’s just that, well, I sorta really like it, and I couldn’t help noticing you had one, but I thought it’d be rude to take it from you without asking but-” Holding up his hoof and sitting up in the same motion, Braeburn smiled at her.

“Ya can have it Lucy.” He said with an uneasy smile.

Clapping her hooves together, she let out a small, “Yay” then lifted up his knapsack from some corner of the room. Promptly lifting the aforementioned object out of the pouch, she popped the cap and began drinking the entire bottle in one go.

Chuckling at the sight, Braeburn shifted and pressed his back against the wall. Grateful for the refreshing cold brushing against his fun, Braeburn saw the fire Translucent had created was roasting the corpse of a skewered Mole rat. It was a morbid sight, but it held some semblance of normality. They always used to roast carrots over an open fire back in Appleloosa, so the sight was familiar, but the smell…

Ugh, there was no way Braeburn would get used to that.

As Translucent downed the Sparkle-Cola, Braeburn took the opportunity to get up and move around a bit. Wincing a bit as he felt some of his bones creak as he did, Braeburn spied the workbench in the room, staring at it for a moment, Braeburn smiled as an idea began to form. “Have ya used this thing, at all?” He asked, gesturing to the workbench.

As she finished off the last drops of Sparkle-Cola, mouth still firmly around the bottle, Translucent glanced at him and shook her head.

“Do ya mind if ah use it?”

Dropping the bottle from her mouth, Translucent shrugged, “Go ahead, it’s no hair off my back.”

With a gathering of appropriate materials and a few seconds passing, Braeburn was sitting on a scavenged stool at the workbench, his .10 millimeter pistol lying in front of him, surrounded by a variety of tools. The clip was sitting a few inches away, with all the bullets removed for safekeeping. A screwdriver as held in Braeburn’s fingers, and goggles were strapped over his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Translucent asked, peeking over his shoulder.

“Just testin’ something out.” Braeburn held up the pistol by the mouth grip, shifting it to it’s side, “See, ah noticed that if ah hold my pistol like this, ah can use it like a Griffon would.” Setting it down, Braeburn lifted up the screwdriver and started to undo the bolts.

“That’s cool, but….what are you doing?” Translucent asked again.

“Tryin’ to see if ah can make so ah can do the same with this.” Braeburn explained, “Ah noticed it was easier to move if ah held it in my hooves like those guns, and ah wanted to see if ah could modify the darn thing so ah could hold it like them.”

“Oh, I get it.” Translucent nodded, “That’s neat and everything, and I guess you could have one still in your mouth and one in your hooves. But aren’t they’re guns like that already? The ones Griffons use as their side-arms?”

“And the ones made to held in yer hooves.” Braeburn agreed, “Sides, this here is just an experiment.”

“Hm, well, I leave you to it then, madpony.” With nothing more to be said, Translucent went back to tending to the cooking Mole rat.

Setting himself back into his work, Braeburn started to undo his pistol’s outer workings with his screwdriver. It was hard, twisting the metal tool around in his hooves rather than his mouth, but that was part of the reason why he was doing this. Call it a hunch, but Braeburn got the feeling he should be good with his...fingers for the time being. And the best way to get better at anything was practice, long, hard, practice.

Needless to say, it wasn’t going well at first.

To Braeburn’s increasing frustration, he discovered that simply having fingers didn’t mean he was skilled at using them. More than once in the twilight hours did he drop or fumble a screw or gun part, he was tempted, oh so tempted, to go back to using his mouth to solve his problem. But something wouldn’t let him, maybe it was the frustration egging him on, or maybe he was just being stubborn.

“Or maybe it’s just the darn fact yer’re just being a loveable idiot again.”

Turning around to see who had spoken, Braeburn only saw Translucent munching on Mole rat.

“Didja say something Lucent?” Braeburn asked. Turning with a face currently stuck in mid chew, she shook her head at him and went back to eating.

Frowning and rubbing his head, he turned back to his project, and for some reason, it looked like somepony had decided to do that cha-cha on it. The bits were scattered about, making a mess of the table. Damnit, he knew what he was trying to do but...why was everything out of place?

The screw wasn’t where it should be, the spring was lying next to the bullets, the hammer was in the wrong spot.

Why? Who did this? Who threw his work out of place?

Who threw the world OuT of order? WHO WAS RESPONSIBLE?

The zebras, ALL of them, they were thE ones responsible, they doOMed the world. They killed everypony, they killed Li-

“That’s wrong honey, and you know it.”

He stopped.

Who said that?

Braeburn turned again, but it was the same as before, the only ponies in the room where him and Translucent, so who, or what, was speaking?

“You know Braeburn, sweetie, I always knew you were thickheaded, but you were never so vindictive. Do try to remember that every side has a story.”

He knew that voice….

“Miss Jubilee?” Braeburn asked, looking around the garage. Where was she? How did she…

“Braeburn? Are you alright? Who are you talking to?”

Snapping his attention to Translucent who was staring at him with a curious look, she tilted her head, “You were mumbling something under your breath and starting to freak out. Are you feeling okay?”

“Ah’m fine…” Braeburn muttered, getting off the stool and grabbing his shoulders, he began to pace around the room.

“....If you say so.” Translucent shrugged, then went back her dinner.

It would be a long time before Braeburn joined her.

---

The sun was hanging high in the sky, and for what it was worth, it’s warmth was appreciated, but the cold wind wasn’t helping at all.

As Braeburn crossed his arms and rubbed them, he shivered slightly, “Two hundred years and it’s still as cold as a salt block.” He said. They had set out early in the morning with Braeburn unable to make any meaningful modifications to his pistol, but he did spruce up the receiver slightly thanks to some parts laying about. They had been walking for about two miles, and the city was no closer, but in the distance they could see a settlement of some sort. Translucent was hesitant at first, but Braeburn had insisted. He had to admit, he had been expecting her to complain about the distance for some time, being a unicorn and all, but it seemed like she was the one setting the pace.

“You should’ve seen Equestria two years ago.” Translucent snorted, “Whole place was covered by a cloud layer by the Enclave.”

“What’s the Enclave?” Braeburn asked.

“Oh, just some Pegasi hold up in the clouds after the bombs dropped.” She shrugged, then paused in thought, “Though, I haven’t seen a tower since I’ve got here, could be Vanhoover didn’t have any cloud cover at all.”

“Yer saying a lot of words that don’t make any sense.” Braeburn groaned.

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Translucent said, “In the meantime, how far are we from-Do you hear that?”

Braeburn paused, and listened, there was a definite crack in the air. One that was all too familiar.

“Eeyup, gunfire.” Drawing his pistol, Braeburn put it into his hooves and started to run towards the sound of conflict.

“Hey, Braeburn! What are you doing?!” Translucent yelled after him, running as well.

“Somepony might need help!” He yelled back, glancing over his shoulder to see that the unicorn was keeping pace with him easy. It was only now did Braeburn realize just how slow he was. On all fours, he would’ve easily increased in speed, but now with his heavy metal hooves, he was moving a hell of alot slower than he should’ve. If Applejack saw him now, she’d probably tell him it would be a good idea not to compete in the Rodeo until he “lost some weight.”

“Listen! I know you’re’ new at this, but they could be raiders!” Translucent yelled at him, “You don’t know the Wasteland like I do! Just wait for two minutes, Braeburn!”

Braeburn, true to the Apple family, didn’t listen and only charged forward, despite Translucent warnings to the contrary, sayings things like how he was gonna get his limbs blown off or his head caved in.

They only sprinted for a short time before Braeburn came to a stop and came across a scene of carnage.

On a run-down street, populated by modern day homes with enough bullet holes to make cheese jealous and cracked windows, bodies were slumped all over, some shredded by bullets, others had their limbs torn off by force. The strangest thing though, was the sight of yellow blood lying on the ground. Walking over to the nearest one, Braeburn titled the head of a corpse with his metal hoof. Lifting it slightly, Braeburn was treated to the wonderful view of a missing eye socket and rotting insides. Almost throwing up his breakfast, which was a lucky find of Sugar Bombs, Braeburn stumbled away from the body.

Coming up behind him, Translucent panted slightly, but also breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, looks like we just missed the party.” Walking over to corpse Braeburn was poking at, she shook her head, “Good, just ghouls. Feral ones too.”

“Ghouls?” Braeburn turned to her, his face still green.

“Basically ponies who absorbed too much magical radiation.” Translucent explained, “Some lose their minds and go feral, others keep their sanity. These,” She lifted a bleeding corpse slightly with her magic, “Are probably the latter. Hopefully.”

“What about that one there? He’s wearing armor.” Braeburn said, walking over to one corpse in particular.

Following his line of sight, Translucent spied the Ghoul Pony wearing a ragged and torn traveling coat with a ruined vest underneath with a yellow ribbon around the ear. Shotgun shells resting neatly in a shoulder pack, not to mention…

“Oh, sweet. Double Barrel. You want it?” Translucent said, walking over and levitating the shotgun for Braeburn to see.

Braeburn stared at her, “That’s lootin.”

Translucent rolled her eyes, “It’s called surviving.”

Frowning, Braeburn grudgingly took the gun. Ignoring the notification from his Pipbuck that he got a new weapon, he looked it over. It was a classic double barrel, that is, two twenty 28 inch barrels’ side by side. It was made to be used with a battle saddle primarily, and as of this moment, Braeburn was lacking one. Thankfully though, by sheer dumb luck, it was also the kind that could be held in your hooves, thanks to a large, curving trigger at the handle. One of those, “universal” guns that could be used by any species, ponies, griffons, etc. Looking at the corpse, Braeburn hefted the shotgun in both hooves, resting his fingers on the trigger and testing the weight of the firearm. Switching from two hooves to one, Braeburn adjusted his stance and lined it up with his eyes, spreading his arm out as he did.

“That’s a good look for you.” Translucent commented, “Might want to find something a bit smaller though, like a revolver or something.”

“Mh” Braeburn lowered the shotgun, noting that the ammo counter read both as empty, Braeburn reached down to the corpse and lifted the shells from the shoulder pack. Putting two into the firearm, Braeburn looked at the last one and frowned.

“Just take the whole damn thing.” Translucent groaned. Turning to her, Braeburn saw she was in the process of the other corpses for supplies. Braeburn found it revolting, but…they were better in the hooves of the living, he supposed.

Setting the shotgun down and rotating the corpse so it was laying on it’s back, Braeburn tried to ignore the yellow liquid that was seeping of the body. He took the coat off the body with little problem, though he had to shake it slightly to drop off the leftover body parts. Looking at the inside, Braeburn had to resist gagging at the sight of the yellow blood plastered against it, that...and other things as well.

“Aaaahh think ah’ll save it for later.” Braeburn muttered, taking the shoulder pack off the sleeve and attaching it to his jumpsuit.

“Save what….Ooohhh ew.” Translucent cringed, walking over to him, “Here, put it in my saddle-bag, I’ll clean it up later.” Levitating it up, the unicorn shoved it into a hidden compartment in her cloak. Disappearing somewhere in the heavy black cloth, Braeburn thought he saw something sticking out of it, but shrugged it off, “Anyway, managed to find some ammo for your pistol.” She held up a two clips for a .10 millimeter, which Braeburn took and pocketed in his knapsack, “Hope you don’t mind if I kept some shells for myself though, gotta keep this baby working.”

Braeburn shrugged, picking up his shotgun, he put the last remaining shell into his shoulder pack and looked around, “So, who do ya think caused this here massacre?”

Glancing at the site, Translucent shrugged, “Eh, my guess is that this guy ran into a pack of feral ghouls and killed him….is what I want to say.” She gestured to the walls, “But these holes are new, and look at this guy.” She gestured to the corpse Braeburn looted, “He was shot, not torn apart. My actual guess is that some ponies got into a fight with a few other ponies, and the sound of their battle drew a pack of ghouls, which lead to this.”

“Mh, ah reckon so.” Braeburn scanned the sight, then noticed a trail of blood leaking around a corner of a house, red blood. “There.” He said, raising his shotgun to level.

Quietly, well, as quietly as you can get with Braeburn’s hooves, approached the corner, weapon at the ready. Braeburn, with practiced ease, stopped a bit short of the corner itself, as he learned in basic training. Pressing himself against the wall, he slowly, slowly, started to edge around it carefully.

Translucent merrily walked right by him and rounded the corner without so much as a moment’s pause. As Braeburn gaped, the unicorn whistled in approvement, “Dibs.” She said cheerfully, hefting an assault rifle up in her magical glow and depositing it in her hidden saddle-bag. Soon enough, she started pocketing other types of ammo as well, including a couple of frag grenades.

After a few minutes of merry looting, she finally took notice of the fact Braeburn was staring at her, “You want any?” She asked, as if the loot was candy.

Braeburn groaned and lowered his shotgun. Walking around the corner, Braeburn was greeted with an odd sight of a recently deceased pony, only the strange thing was the fact this pony was well armed.

Very well armed.

Covered from tail to muzzle in a dark grey armor, a heavy cloth around the mouth, a polarized visor covering the eyes, and a dented helmet. The pony was sitting against the wall, a large pool of blood forming under it, the most peculiar however, was the symbol patched into the armor. A silver four pointed star surrounded by a circle with the words, Unitas; Victoria.
.
“Unity; Victory?” Braeburn muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“Wait, what?” Translucent asked, apparently utterly dumbfounded, “You know what that says?”

“Ah studied a bit of ancient languages back in Canterlot High.” Braeburn said, a fond smile on his face as he remembered times gone by, “Ah think it’s supposed to be an abridged version of Ubi concordia, ibi victoria. “When there is Unity, There is Victory.”

Translucent stared at him, causing Braeburn to bristle slightly, “Did ah say something strange?”

“You said something alright…” Translucent muttered, looking strangely downcast for a moment or two before looking around once again, “Anyway, this guy’s got some pretty good stuff. Not sure I can carry it all on my own though, want me to enchant your purse so you can carry some too?”

“Ya can do that for me?” Braeburn asked, looking at the ragged leather bag that rested at his side.

“I can, just need some time is all. It’s actually a pretty basic spell, once you learn how. All I need is some time and a durable enough bag….” She glanced at the knapsack, “On second thought though, you might need a better purse. That one looks like it’s falling apart.”

“It’s not a-” A crack of gunfire interrupted the two, drawing their attention away from the body and Braeburn’s purse towards the east, deeper into town.

“Huh, sounds like somepony’s still fighting.” Translucent noted, “Let me guess, you want to-”

By the time the unicorn turn around, Braeburn was already on the move, heading towards the sound of conflict.

“Of course.” Translucent rolled her eyes, “See one Stable Dweller, you’ve seen them all.”

Shaking her head, she trotted off after the bipedal pony.

---

Needless to say, the trek to the conflict was much shorter than the first one, and the two were lured to the inside of an old stone building in the center of town, the type that was made before the war and withstood the test of time, though, it appeared to be on the receiving end of a few gunshots.

The front door was broken off at the hinges, and inside there were the definite sounds of a conversation taking place. To add to that, three, no, four blips appeared on Braeburn’s compass, all of them green.

Entering the building and drawing his shotgun, Braeburn saw a curious scene.

There was a mare in a dirty room with a staircase leading upstairs nearby, office furniture scattered about, and a door leading to a basement in the rear end of the room. There was a ...ghoul, skin decaying, but alive. Or what constituted as alive for a Ghoul, and there were two others in the same fancy grey armor from before were flanking the mare.

And all three were pointing weapons at the Ghoul, who wore a yellow armband around his right hoof, the same color as the one from before, only, unlike the last one, this one was sporting a wound in his left shoulder and was laying against the wall with a barrel aimed by the mare in his decaying face.

“Any last words?” The Mare asked, leveling an oddly shaped revolver in her wing (Braeburn made a mental note to find out why she was holding it like that), at the downed pony. Looking at her, Braeburn noted that she was rather young, in her early twenties at least. She was an pegasus ashen body, steel mane, and bright piercing yellow eyes. She wore light armor over her body, hiding her cutie mark and midsection but allowing her wings to be free.

“ Why ya gotta say something so cliché kid?” The ghoul spouted out, his voice raspy and sounding like gravel, “What, couldn’t think of anything more original?”

The mare snorted, “Can’t go wrong with a classic.”

“Ya can, when it’s about shooting another pony.”

And just like that, all three were pointing their guns at Braeburn, who held his hooves up and kept his fingers wide, letting his shotgun fall to the ground.

“Who the hell are you?” The mare asked, looking him over, “And what the hell is that thing on your…..Luna’s shit, what are you?”

“Ah’m still working that one out myself miss.” Braeburn said cautiously, a disarming smile on his lips, “But ah can tell ya my name, if ya let me.”

“Cinquedea, that’s a Pipbuck.” One of the armored ponies muttered, his….hers, it’s voice indistinguishable by the cloth covering the mouth, “I think he’s from the Stable.”

“Hm…” “Cinquedea” thought for a moment, “Yeah, I getcha. Waste him anyway.”

Surprisingly, the one who spoke turned to the ashen mare, “Your father-”

“Isn’t here. Besides, he could’ve lifted that and the jumpsuit off a corpse.” Cinquedea glared, but sighed, “But, I see your point.” She leveled the pistol...at his knee, “We’ll bring him to the outpost when we’re done with Polka here.”

“Ah see you sort aren’t the reasonable type, ah take it.” Braeburn murmured to himself, then spoke up clearly, “Ah assume that y’all aren’t interested in talking things through like decent folk.”

“We are the decent folk.” Cinquedea spat, “And no, we’re really not.”

“Are ya sure?” Braeburn asked hopefully.

She cocked the revolver in response.

“Ah see.”

“Ha, don’t bother friend.” The ghoul coughed from the ground, “These Dippy scum aren’t gonna listen to a word an outsider says.”

“Ah sure that’s not true.” Braeburn said hopefully.

“No, it really is.” Cinquedea agreed, nodding, “Stable Dweller or not, you don’t have a lot of say in that.”

Braeburn rubbed the back of his head, not enjoying the metal bumps on his spine as he did so, “So...Ah take it violence is unavoidable then?”

“It can be, just so long as you sit still while we finish off the Polka here.” Cinquedea said, turning her attention back to the ghoul.

“Ah’m afraid ah can’t let ya do that miss.” Braeburn stepped forward, creating a heavy ‘thunk’ and causing dust to rattle from the ceiling.

Turning back to him, Cinquedea smirked, “Oh, and why not?”

“It’s against the law, if Ah remember correctly.”

Cinquedea and her two flunkies shared a look, then burst into laughter, even the ghoul seemed amused.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAhahahaaaaaa…..Oooohh, thanks for that, my sis says I don’t laugh enough.” Cinquedea wiped a tear from her eye with her wing.

“....Ah was serious.” Braeburn muttered. Okay, so apparently, laws were no longer a thing, something he should have picked up on earlier when Translucent started looting dead bodies.

“.....Wow, you are really out of date huh?” Cinquedea said, obvious bemusement in her voice.

“By two hundred and two years, ah hear.” Braeburn muttered.

“....Wait, what? Who are you?” Cinquedea asked.

“The name’s Braeburn miss.” The farm pony said, “And Ah-”

“Make for an excellent distraction.”

The one on Cinquedea side, the one who spoken up, suddenly had their head blown apart by a close range burst from a pistol from behind.

As the gore and blood flew, several things happened at once. Cinquedea leveled her pistol at Braeburn and tried to pull the trigger, but all she heard was a click. The surviving pony who was with Cinquedea aimed their rifle at the downed ghoul, a .45 revolver in his mouth, but a sudden shower of pellets from a shotgun collided into the shoulder from an evaluated angle. During this time, Braeburn ran forward and grappled with Cinquedea, who was closest to him. Snatching the revolver out of her grasp, Braeburn sent his metal hoof forward, and kicked her square in the chest. There was a sizable gasp of blood from her mouth, and she was sent flying towards the back of the room. The remaining grey armored pony, surviving the shotgun blast thanks to the armor it wore, stumbled back and covered the downed pegasus.

Grasping the revolver in his fingers as he dove to the side, using the staircase as cover from the spraying bullets, Braeburn’s heads up display showed five bullets left in the cylinder, alright not bad. Feeling a light tap on his head, he glanced up to see Translucent standing above him on the staircase, shotgun barrel smoking and aimed at the pair.

Peaking around the step he was hiding behind, he saw that the downed Cinquedea was currently hefted up on the surviving flunky’s back and was being carried to the basement under the staircase. Currently firing on the Ghoul, who had taken cover behind a large toppled desk, the pony shambled towards the door, somehow standing up despite the bleeding shoulder wound.

A quick observation of the revolver in his hooves proved to be a curious thing. It was of Griffon make, that is, long with a heavy barrel. But most importantly, a trigger, and a handle that was meant to be held with a palm, no wonder why Cinquedea had trouble holding this, it wasn’t meant to be held with wings or feathers, it was made for fingers.

And well, what Braeburn had came close.

Grasping it properly with his left hoof, Braeburn noted the six rounds in the cylinder thanks to his heads up display and shifted to lay flat on his belly on the staircase. Peeking around the wooden step, Braeburn saw the armored pony half way through the door. Taking aim with the revolver, Braeburn lined it up with the last exposed leg, but something stopped him from pulling the trigger. An all too familiar feeling, if he was being honest.

Hesitation.

The hesitation to end a pony’s life, it came every time he held a gun in his hooves and pointed it at a living being. It happened to him during the war, and it was happening to him now. Zebras, at least, had the distinction at least of looking different from ponies, but seeing the slumped over and pitiful looking mare over the pony’s back made Braeburn’s trigger finger freeze.

Needless to say, the other two ponies had no such objections.

Translucent levitated the shotgun over the railing, firing wildly, the distinctive and heavy boom of the firearm thundering through the air. Meanwhile, the Ghoul pony fired blindly over the toppled desk, hefting the barrel of the .45 over the ridge. Both of these were doing a great job of putting bullets out there, but sadly, neither was very good at aiming, and so, the grey armored pony and injured mare managed to get inside the doorway.

Hearing their uneasy hoof-falls from the steps of the staircase, Braeburn frowned as he stared at the wood. Funny, it didn’t seem very thick, if he fired through it then there was a real chance that….

Shit.

Grabbing Translucent by the leg, Braeburn threw himself and the unicorn off the steps of the staircase just in time to avoid being bifurcated by a sudden hail of bullets.

Falling towards the ground in a shower of splinters and landing with a painful thud, Braeburn shielded his eyes and took reflexive aim with his revolver, quickly making a few mental calculations, he fired a little bit to the right. The .44 bullet punctured the wooden steps with ease, and he was rewarded with a sudden cry of pain.

Needless to say, guilt was the next thing Braeburn felt, aside from the pain on his back and the unicorn hoof that was firmly lodged into the side of his skull.

Groaning, Translucent laid there on the ground for a moment, before suddenly whipping into a frenzy of movement. Standing upright, she glared at Braeburn, a red smear across her face, “Did you see anything?!”

Braeburn, despite his confusion, shook his head.

She glared at him, “Are you sure?”

“What in the high hells are ya talkin’ about?” Braeburn asked, standing up.

“Ugh, nevermind…” Translucent muttered. Walking over to the downed Ghoul, who had dropped his pistol and sat against the wall, she levitated her shotgun at him. The Ghoul, for his part, merely chuckled.

“You save a Stallion, then you execute him yourself. Gotta say, I don’t follow your line of thinking.”

“Just a prudent deterrent.” The unicorn replied, “And for the record, I don’t recall agreeing to save you.”

“Looks like it, apparently.” The Ghoul grinned, “So, should I thank you, sweet flanks, or your...Yeesh, that mare was right. You are a freak.”

Braeburn kept an eyebrow raised as he approached, gently placing a hoof on Translucent’s cloaked shoulder. Glancing at him, she lowered the shotgun with a huff.

“But hey.” The Ghoul said, “Any freak that makes me look normal is a friend in my book. So, stranger, beautiful.” He grinned at Translucent, who shuddered, “What makes you save my sorry behind?”

“Just didn’t seem right is all.” Braeburn said.

“Huh, what Radroach took a bite out of your skull?” The Ghoul asked, “Cause I think those horns of yours are laying a little too hard on your brain there friend.”

“Believe me, I’ve been wondering that myself.” Translucent snorted.

Rolling his eyes, Braeburn glanced at Translucent, “By the way, how did you get to the second story? Ah thought you were right behind me.”

“Oh.” Translucent shrugged, “Once I saw you were going in the front door like a dumbass, I circled around back and found a way to climb up through a broken wall, then I just levitated a few blocks to let me hop up.”

“Not that your little discussion is a joy to listen to, but uh...I don’t suppose you’d be willing to spare a health potion, wound ya?” The Ghoul, to punctuate his point, coughed out a blob of yellow blood from his mouth.

Braeburn’s Geiger counter made an audible clicking sound.

Braeburn took a few steps back while Translucent cringed. Sharing a look, the two of them shared a silent conversation for a few minutes before the unicorn sighed. Levitating a health potion out of her bag, she lifted it over to the Ghoul, who took it and greedily drank it down.

“Mighty thanks friends. Name’s Rail Spike. Yours?” The newly named Rail Spike asked, standing up.

“Braeburn.”

“Translucent.”

“Huh, think I would’ve heard of two freaks like you, where are you from?” Rail Spike asked.

“Around.” Translucent shrugged, “As for tall blond and pretty over there, he’s from a Stable, hence the jumpsuit and Pipbuck.”

“So, you're newcomers?” Rail Spike grinned when the two of them nodded, “Well, welcome to The Hoove, enjoy your stay.”

---

Level up!

Time to dust off those old designs in your horny head. You now have access to base and Rank 1 gun mods.