Fallout Equestria: Legion

by Chemtest

Apart

“When the world collapses, where will you be?”

Blood is always right around the corner in the Wasteland. Iron, crimson, staining whatever it touches. Some find themselves far from it, in peaceful places, with peaceful ponies, yet it always catches up. And now, it runs freely from Sentinel’s neck, staining his fur as it follows the path of gravity.

I snap my head to where the shot came from, seeing one of the village ponies stood there, trembling, a single shot rifle help shakily.

Anger is a curious thing. To some, it is an all encompassing rage and energy. To others, it’s a cold hatred, logical, calculated, focused entirely on removing the object of hatred. To a few, it’s almost like passing out. One moment, you feel emotions swell inside of you, and the next, you stand over the dead body of a farming pony, a bloody cut across his neck, and a still dripping knife in your mouth.

I look down on the dead farmer, scowling and putting my knife back into it’s sheathe, right next to my neck. I look back at Sentinel, but he’s still and dead, his hoof outstretched towards me. I look away, trying to blink away the tears before they can escape. No time to mourn, no time to cry… only escape. Yet still, I hesitate as I raise my hoof, wishing it was all a bad dream.

The approaching stamping of hooves forces me to move, and move quickly. I gallop past the dead farmer’s body, and rush past the final building of the village. Gunshots come from behind me, the buzzing of near misses whizzing by my ears, a cacophony of close calls.

I wait until the village is far behind me before I risk taking a look back. The smoke on the horizon is all that’s visible, looks like the odd ponies didn’t try to chase me. I sigh, taking a moment to sit and rest, my mind flashing with images of blood and death.

My ears pick up approaching hooves, many of them, causing me to jump up to my hooves, drawing my knife, still wet from blood. I glare, dropping into a stabbing pose, only to pause as I see the ponies approaching.

A caravan. A silver, grey due to dirt, pair of ponies, mare and stallion, looking at me in concern. The mare, wearing lightweight leather armor and carrying a long range rifle in her battle saddle, speaks first, “You alright, hon?”

I blink as I look at her, “Baltimare. You’re from Baltimare, I’m facing east then. We were from Baltimare, too.”

She smiles, “We?”

I look down, standing up fully and putting my knife away, “Just… never mind. I’m Half Mast, Rainy Roads Caravan.”

The mare nods to me, “I’m Sure Shot, hon, and he’s Sure Shield, Sure Can Caravan.”

Sure Shot nods, drawing my attention to him. He wears heavier metal armor, carrying two shotguns in his battle saddle. A faded red mane cascades down the back of head, like a waterfall of blood. He clears his throat, “And… where is your Caravan, Miss Mast?”

I glance back at the village, as Sure Shot gasps, “Oh! Oh no, hon… it was them damned Legion ponies, weren’t it?”

I look back, and nod, “Presumably. They ambushed the village, I just barely managed to escape. My… my friend didn’t make it…”

She rapidly trots up to me, drawing me into a hug, “Oh hon, I’m so sorry. Just isn’t right, them type of pony running into your type of pony. Wiping out an entire village, too…” She looks over at Shield, “What was it’s name?”

I speak before he can, “It didn’t have one.”

He sighs, looking at the distant smoke, “They’ll pay, Miss Mist, eventually. This isn’t the first place they’ve attacked.”

Shot nods, “They’re a horrible crowd, hon, but I’m sure you know that now. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, slowly returning her hug, “It’s… it’s not your fault, Shot. I distracted him, he couldn’t see the shooting pony.”

She frowns, “Now I don’t want to hear any of that, hon, it isn’t any of your fault. It’s them Legion what are to blame.”

Shield nods, “We need to let others know. Head back to Baltimare, tell the Traders.”

Shot nods, “He’s right, hon, and you’d better come with us. Just wouldn’t do if I left you out here all by your lonesome. Maybe the other Traders can get you another caravan.”

I sigh, but nod, “Maybe… maybe.” I stand up, and look at them, “I… haven’t been to Baltimare much, all I know is the Rangers there.”

Shot frowns, standing up herself, “Those damn Rangers aren’t any decent folk, they’d kill you for a piece of scrap. No, hon, there’s better out there. Us Traders are a buncha merchants, caravaners, and big shot prospectors. There’s also them BITCHes, a ‘technocratic democracy’. Act like we know what they mean.”

I snort, “BITCHes?”

She nods, and begins to trot back east, “They work outta the old university, BITCH, so they call themselves BITCHes. Aren’t that bad a group, closest thing to an owner of Baltimare. Oh, there’s also some insane preachers, but they ain’t that big.”

I follow after, and nod, “How long will it take to get there?”

She looks back, and smiles, “Depends on the weather, hon. Could be a week or two, or two days.”

I raise an eyebrow, “What kind of weather would cause that much of an increase?”

She grins, “Rain. Trust me, you haven’t seen anything like Baltimare rain.”

My confusion, and eyebrow, spike further up, “Rain? Sure, trotting in the rain is unpleasant, but it isn’t that bad.”

Shield looks over at me, “You’re from Manehatten.”

I pause, and slowly nod, “Yes… I’m from Tenpony Tower originally. I left a while ago. How can you tell?”

He slowly grins, “Manehatten ponies always act like they know rain. Same with Hoofington ponies, always think they know. Trust me, Miss Mast, rain can do a lot more than simply make mud here, and it can certainly do more than make you cold.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but he seems to be being serious. After a moment, I shrug, “What’s the worst that rain can do?”

Both of them look at each other, merely grinning.