An NCR Ranger gets swept into the world of FO:E. takes place 3 years after the epilogue
Marcus, an NCR Ranger just got Ranger Sequioa, a gun that represents 20 years of service to the NCR when it all goes wrong on his first mission with it. Mainly being nuked by the courier. Now follow Marcus "Ranger" as he helps Equestria become a better place in his adventures at the Fillydelphia War Zone. Note: this is 3 years after the initial epilogue. Origonal story by KKat and can be found here Would like some cover art. Appreciated but not necessary Looking for a pre-reader to help cover any mistakes i make another note: This story will be updated irregularly due to it being a way for me to try and cure writer's block
Me and a squad of the other veteran rangers were sent to kill a courier that someone shot in the head. The NCR apparently has it in for him because they sent us to go and kill him. He must’ve killed a lot of NCR troops if the higher ups are sending all of us.
We weren’t the best rangers the NCR had but damn could we get a job done. What was our job you ask? Well aside from the normal duties of the NCR Rangers, we were the assassins. The higher ups usually send one or two of us to go kill a specific enemy of the NCR. But this was an odd case sent they sent the entire squad to go after him. All 10 of us should be more than enough to handle him; right?
Wrong.
Apparently this guy pissed off the Legion as well. So instead of fighting one guy, we're fighting 6 Legionaries plus the courier. Not that it’s a bad thing for us, since this guy has to fight us AND the Legion as well. There’s no way he’s walking out of this.
Again wrong.
BANG!
Another legionary just fired at my cover again. This rock is getting shorter and shorter with every shot. He must have pissed off Ceaser more than we expected, instead of sending one squad of five or six, Ceaser sent a company of 16 after him.
The Courier guy isn’t helping matters either. Where the hell did he get a minigun? I have no idea but he’s tearing up anyone stupid enough to expose themselves. Thank god he is alone; I hear he is good with making friends. I heard rumors of him traveling with a super mutant, a flying ‘eye’, a robot dog the Kings had, and even once heard he had a Brotherhood of Steel member with him!
K-RACK! Another shot went up at my cover. I risked a peek over my cover and got nicked at the top of my helmet for my trouble. Though it was worth it, the courier is reloading and roughly half the legionaries are wounded. I lift up my brush gun and began firing at the bigger threat: The legionaries.
POW! POW! POW! 3 legionaries went down under my gun in the span of a few seconds. My vision suddenly went black as a legion sniper took aim and shot me in the face. Luckily for me the bullet didn’t go through my helmet, probably because they keep their guns at such poor condition.
That didn’t stop it from hurting like hell.
I fell backwards and hit the ground just as my cover exploded into pebbles. I thankfully still had my brush gun on me and I rolled to a larger rock and hid behind it to check how we’re doing.
What I saw wasn’t very good. Half our squad was wounded, three were dead, one is seriously wounded, and one can’t be found at all. The other half is moving between cover to cover firing at whomever they can see.
Why is all our cover exploding? This doesn’t make sense; the legion members don’t have explosives that we know of and we don’t carry explosives on us.
So that leaves……
I peak over when bullets aren’t flying over my head and my heart sank at what I saw.
The Legion’s remaining forces are getting destroyed by the courier who, by the looks of things, either got his minigun broken, or he ran out of ammo for he is using a FREAKING MISSLE LAUNCHER!? Where did he get that!? From the boomers!?
Hell if I know or not, all I know is that it is working. Their cover is being torn up and they are being hit with shrapnel, explosive force, and fire. Another guy takes a shot at me and I duck back into cover.
I take a deep breath and lift up my helmet to take a sip of water. I know now isn't a good time, but running all over the place in a mad sprint leaves you tired. I quickly down a bottle of water and put on my helmet before someone blows my brain out of my skull.
KA-BOOM! A large mushroom-size explosion appears a few yards away from me as I fly back from the force of the explosion itself. I felt the air leave my lungs as I crashed into the merciless dirt/pebbles. My ears ringing with the intensity of a bomb going off next to you, because you know, that happened.
My body groans and pops in protest as I sit upright and start moving my body to see if anything is broken. I move my left arm, everything seems to be fine. I move my left leg, a bit of pain, probably be limping on it but still fine. I try to move my right arm and a searing pain courses through me, definitely broken. I attempt to move my right leg and for my troubles I get a lot of pain, but I can still move it. This isn’t good. I turn my head and….
I’m the only one alive. My god I'm the only one alive. The legionaries, from what I can see, have been annihilated with bullets. Not one of them had a completely intact body. Some were missing arms, others legs, most decapitated. One or two guys even somehow got blown into pieces, probably from the missile launcher. My comrades….
My comrades are dead…. Oh god they’re dead! I can’t see them anywhere! They must’ve been blown away from that giant explosion. Wait…. What is tha- oh my god it’s an arm! A ranger arm! Completely blown off!
Before I can panic even more the courier stops right in front of me and points a weapon at me. This weapon looks like someone stripped a missile launcher of its skin, modified it to only keep the important bits, and looked very old and very deadly. The ammo inside it is a pre-war made bomb that looks a lot like those mini nukes we were told to collect if we ever found any. Something about being very explosive and contains a lot of radiation or something.
The courier said something that I couldn’t make out due to my ears still ringing. I try to get up but all I was rewarded with was searing pain and a boot to my helmet as my back hit the ground again.
With my good arm I raise Ranger Sequoia and point it at him and try to fire, but all I managed to do in my feeble state was groan and lift my gun halfway before said boot was on top of my arm. He leaves it there for a moment before he takes it off and continues rambling about something. Probably about how he got his gun and ammo since he keeps gesturing towards it.
I took the time he was rambling to get out a doctor’s bag with my good arm, open it up, and treat my injuries with it. My god the things they put in this thing must be magic! My arm and leg are feeling much better already.
The courier takes his ‘gun’ and points it upwards roughly 90 degrees. My hearing must’ve returned without me knowing because I manage to hear him go “sayonara” as he fires his gun and makes a mad dash for the nearest cover.
I watch as the bomb flies upwards and then falls down. I try to move but the doctor’s bag made my movements sluggish and awkward. I can’t even stand up at the moment.
I fall back onto my back again, holding my brush gun and Ranger sequoia, as the bomb flies closer and closer with each passing second. I take this time to look at the specially made hunting revolver and reflect how I got it.
I just passed my 20th year serving as a NCR Ranger. It’s sad really; this is my first assignment with the Ranger gun and I have already messed up horribly. After a long few years of killing every target, once I got this gun it all comes crashing down.
I see the bomb coming right down at me. Well it’s time to see if there is really an afterlife. Wonder where I’ll end up in the next life. Well time to find out.
The bomb went crashing down and I close my eyes in preparation. I take one last breath and…..
I hear nothing and I see nothing but blackness.
A few hours later, its morning; or at least I think its morning. I have no idea how long I was out but the sun is back on my face. I groan and rub a hoof to my helmet and try and clear away the blackness that surrounds my eyes.
Wait…..
What did I just do? My…. Hoof? I shake my head, I am probably just delusional and probably thought I had a hoof. I look at my hoof again…. There it is. A god damn real hoof and I am controlling it. I move my ‘arm’ left and it moves left as well. I move right and it does the same.
“Ok this is just too weird….” I mumble to no one in particular. I try to stand up on my ‘legs’ but all I end up doing is fall onto my ass. I try again and I hold it for a second before I lose balance again and fall foreword. Instead of crashing onto the ground I fall onto my front ‘legs that I still call my arms’ and it feels right.
I try making a step and I'm a little wobbly but otherwise I can stay upright. Ok I'm standing upright. Now it’s time to take a look at myself. Turning my head around I can see... I'm a pony…. Really? A pony? Aside from that fact, everything seems to be ok. I am still wearing my NCR Ranger riot armor, my helmet is still on (It’s kinda obvious since everything is slightly red), I even have a tail! For some reason it’s armored like the rest of my body. My Brush gun is for some reason attached to my armor. No scratch that it’s connected to a saddle that is on top of my Riot armor. Ranger Sequoia is right at my side. Miraculously both guns not only seem to be in working condition, they seem to not have taken any damage from my previous fight!
I rub my ‘hoof’ (don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that) on top of my head and I find something peculiar. I have a horn. What the hell? A horn? That’s weird, am I a unicorn or something? Do I have magic? Well there’s only one way to find out.
I prepared myself to try and see if I do have magic before I realize something. I have no idea how to even try and summon it. Do I make a magic circle or do I have to use my mind like those ‘jedi’ from those ancient holo-tapes? Probably the latter, seeing as I have a horn now.
Using the power of my mind, I imagine a glowing hand of a sort trying to pick up Ranger Sequoia from my side. At first nothing happens. No biggie did you really expect me to be able to do it in one try? I didn’t either. Nor did I expect to the second time, or the third time, or the fourth time.
But when I haven’t even had anything happen by the 30th time that’s when I really start to get annoyed. By the 60th time I'm really getting mad now. I'm surprisingly warm outside but I'm sweating and I'm frustrated. I don’t even know how to do this, and if I can’t do what I think I can, then getting water will be VERY difficult.
I sigh and unconsciously move an imaginary right arm to open my packs and get me a bottle of water. What surprised me the most was when I brought that imaginary arm back; there is a bottle of water floating right in front of me. The bottle was surrounded with a cowboy brown aurora? I can’t really explain how it looks.
I moved the imaginary arm to set the bottle down and lift up my helmet. I'm sure I might be able to hold the bottle and lift my helmet but if I'm wrong I don’t want to lose my water. Once my helmet was up I let go of my ‘arm’ from the helmet and picked up the bottle again. The water felt refreshing down my throat.
OH! That’s why it didn’t work! I was imagining just a hand where I got it to work by imagining an entire arm. So maybe now…..
Using my newly found knowledge I was able to lift up my revolver with only a grunt of pain. Where my horn connects to my head is some mild pain. Huh, so it’s like a muscle; I have to train it to make it stronger. Good thing I didn’t try to hold up the bottle and my helmet.
After putting the gun away I finally went around to looking at my surroundings. Urban. That is one word to describe this. It looks like if Freeside was enlarged to a massive city sized area, but shrunk down to have ponies live comfortably.
I look at my left ‘front leg’ and check my half operating Pip-boy. My radiation detector isn’t going off, that’s good. My inventory sorter tells me that I have a couple bottles of water, a dozen or so Nuka-Cola and Sunset sarsaparilla, a hundred or so spare 40-70 Gv’t rounds, a few pounds worth of food rations, roughly 500 caps (good thing I turned my paycheck into caps before I started the assignment), a few pounds worth of medicine supplies and three weapon repair kits. It’s a shame the map and the radio don’t work. Maybe I can have someone here fix it for me, wherever ‘here’ is. I'm just happy the inventory sorter, my radiation detector, and my compass with the presence detector on it still work. I think V.A.T.S. still works as well.
My compass picks up a couple signatures to my left. I turn to face these signatures and I see something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime.
Right in front of me, is a griffon, a pegasus, two unicorns, and a pony with armor that looks like the brotherhood of steel armor, expect its red. The others were wearing the same armor, probably a gang or something.
We did nothing expect stare at each other for roughly a minute. Occasionally one of them would blink. We shifted our hooves left to right every now and then. That is until I spoke.
“Umm hi?” Was all I could say.
“You know you look terrifying with those red eyes your helmet has right?” The griffon says once I finish speaking.
“What?”
“Yeah. You look terrifying. It’s like I'm staring at a blood hungry diamond dog with those red lenses.”
“Umm thanks?”
“Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Stark, I'm with the Talons. The pegasus here is named Dusty. Don’t mind him much. He doesn’t talk a lot. Those two unicorns are the twins, Clover and Daisy. The Applejack ranger there is junior paladin Macintosh, or Big Mac if you prefer. What’s your name?” Stark asks me. I am surprised yet suspicious. Out in the Mojave, manners are very rare. People speak very bluntly and whoever has manners usually wants something from you. Stark reminds me of that one guy the Courier drove off the strip, what was his name? Benny? Yeah! That was it. Stark reminds me of that Benny character.
“I’m called Marcus. But you can call me Ranger if you want.”
“Ranger? Why Ranger?” Daisy asks me. She sounds young. If the voice of a pony can be compared to a human’s, she is probably no more than 19 or 20.
“Because that’s my job. I am a NCR Ranger” I tell her without emotion. The one known as Big Mac moves his head in a scoffing motion. I think.
“Really now? I don’t remember the New Canterlot Republic having these ‘rangers’ besides allying themselves with the Applejack’s Rangers” Big Mac says. His voice was gruff, like it either seen a lot of yelling, smoke, combat, or all three. In all likelihood it’s probably the last one.
There’s one detail that I still don’t understand. “New Canterlot Republic? Who are they? I thought the NCR was the New CALIFORNIA Republic?” I told them
“What? Have you been living in a stable or something? The NCR as far as I know, has always been the New Canterlot Republic,”
“What? What’s a stable? Do you mean vaults?”
“What in Sam’s hell is a vault? They’re stables!”
“They’re vaults!”
“Stables!”
“VAULTS!”
“STABLES!”
“GOD DAMN IT! You’re insane! They’re called vaults! Next thing I know you’re going to say my Pipboy isn’t a Pipboy!”
“What the hell is a ‘Pipboy’!? We have Pipbucks!”
“ENOUGH BOTH OF YOU!” Clover yells at us, surprising all of us. His voice sounded young yet it had a voice that had authority and anyone that heard it would stop and listen to. “You aren’t from here are you?”
“Gee what gave you that idea? The fact I’m totally clueless as to where I am, the fact that everything I said sounds strange to you guys, or the fact that my armor has never been seen from around here and my gun isn’t a commonly found weapon!? Oh! That reminds me, you guys have 40-70 g’vt rounds in this wasteland right?”
“Well it’s not really a wasteland anymore. Ok yeah it is, but we’re doing our best to clean up. We got one step done, all the radiation is gone now” Daisy tells me
“Yeah we have that type of round, why? Your guns take that size?” Stark asks me.
I nod and magically remove one of the spare rounds from my saddles and shows it to them, “These rounds yes?”
Stark looks at it, deep in thought then nods his head. “Yeah, we have those rounds here in Equestria. Though we don’t have any on us, you’ll have to see the shopkeepers for them.”
I nod my head in understanding. I was about to open my mouth when a shot rang out and a bunch of pony-fied mercenaries came out and surrounded us.
“TARGETS!” We all screamed.
“Everyone form up! Make a ring with our asses in the middle! NOW!” I ordered them and they complied. I stood with Big Mac to my right and Stark to my left. The raiders have us surrounded, outnumbered, and outgunned. But we outmatched them. We were professionals with hands on training with a fair fight if not one sided fights. These guys are used to bullying, no way to gain true combat experience.
Using my newfound knowledge of magic, I had my magic grip the lever of my brush gun and rapidly fire as I let V.A.T.S. do the work for me. My compass is providing me with more than enough targets to fire at. My magic was working overtime between cocking my brush gun and reloading it.
Whenever V.A.T.S. ran out of action points I tested my accuracy without V.A.T.S. surprisingly it’s not too hard once you get the hand of it. I just had to aim a bit to the left with my built in crosshairs.
About a minute has passed since the first shot and the mysterious forces are dead. Well they’re mysterious to me. I'm sure my companions know who they are. “Soooo” I start. “Anyone know who these guys are?” I ask as I walk (trot) over to the corpses and begin to loot their bodies for anything useful.
“Yeah, they were Red Eye’s forces before the Great Battle. Now they are just another Raider group trying to carve their name in Equestrian history.” Big Mac tells me.
“Yeah what did these guy’s call themselves this time again? The great Khans or something?” Stark asks the group.
“I don’t know Stark, I thought you knew” Clover replies with a smirk.
“Yeah, I think they did call themselves the Khans. With a K if I remember correctly too” Daisy says, ruining the joke. Stark sighs.
“Alright then. Let’s loot the bodies and head back to camp” Stark says as he starts looting a promising looking body.
I already collected a fair amount of extra bottle caps, a few dozen rounds, a couple pistols that look like they are held in the pony’s mouth, a chainsaw sword, and a bunch of water along with some food.
Once everyone, including me, finished up looting we all gathered up together again.
“Okay, We’re all done looting yes?” Stark asks us. We all nod. “Ok good. Ranger, come with us. I’m sure you have nowhere to go and we could use your help. Oh and we can help you get the must-know of the Modern day Equestria.”
I nod my head. Yeah it’s a good plan and he’s right. I have nowhere else to go and it’s my job to protect these ponies. Even if they aren’t My NCR citizens, they still are NCR citizens and it’s my job to protect NCR citizens. Plus getting filled on the history wouldn’t hurt.
“OK good. Daisy when we get to camp, give Ranger The Book of LittlePip for him to read, ok? Big Mac you’re with me. I have to go deliver a report to Calamity and the higher ups.” Stark tells his group.
“OH! And ranger?” he says looking at me. I stare at him, waiting for his reponse”
“Welcome to the Fillydelphia Warzone, Equestria”
Footnote: Quest Skill learned! Back to the basics: your unfortunate transformation into a pony has made you sluggish and awkward. You are returned to level 1 and your stats and skills are reset. Level up! Rapid reload: You are a quick learner! All guns reload 25% faster for you. Bonus! Your training with the NCR has done you well. You reload and draw your weapons an additional 15% faster!
It took roughly an hour to make to their campgrounds, so I took that time to take a look at my companions.
Stark, despite having manners, is a really likeable person. He is carefree yet serious when the time calls for it. Everyone knows he’s the leader, his experience proves that though I'm pretty sure I have more combat experience. His mane is a mix between a pleasant red and a copper brown while his coat is a blondish brown.
Big Mac is obviously the heavy weapons specialist or the “heavy weapons pony” as he calls himself. I didn’t get to see what he looked like since he wore his power armor.
I couldn’t blame him. I was wearing my NCR armor so I had no idea what I looked like either. Once I get to camp I think I’ll find someone to fix my helmet and armor (for a reasonable price) and look around. Hopefully I could find someone who can fix my pip-boy. I can’t believe I'm saying this, but I'm starting to miss the Old world radio station. Even if they did play the same thing over and over again, it beats not listening to anything at all.
Clover and Daisy are an odd pair. Even though they’re twins and one is a colt, and the other is a mare, they look nothing alike. The only thing the same about them was their eyes and their mane. They both had that look in their eyes that showed cheerfulness, seriousness, and nativity. Like they have seen some and participated in the horrors of the wasteland, but not the worst. But despite all that, I'm sure they could stare down one of those fiends and win. Their manes both support that they have a streak of a different color that goes along well with them.
Clover is, as his name suggests, a clover green. Or so he says. In the Mojave the only ‘green’ patch is either radiation or the poor excuse we call a golf course at Camp Golf. His ‘clover green’ mane is the streak in his mint white mane. Spots of noticeable blood are all over his mane, giving him the look that someone flicked a paintbrush full of blood at him.
Daisy on the other hand looked nothing like her brother. Her ‘Daisy white’ (seriously, do they expect me to know colors from FLOWERS when the only living plants that were outside of Vault 22 were cacti and dead everything!?) coat was covered in blood as was her ‘Daisy yellow’ mane with her ‘Daisy white streak in her Daisy white yellow mane’ God damn it if she’d stop talking about fucking flowers then we’d be on good terms.
Dusty was an odd pony to me. Everything about him was just plain. From his coat (a dusty brown) to his mane (a rusty red) heck even his hat was plain. His desperado hat has clearly seen better days. Almost the entire hat had a hole through it and was eventually patched together. I wouldn’t be surprised if nothing of the original hat was there.
But true to Stark’s word, Dusty never spoke a word. Stark explained how he lived like some zebra named Xenith, who pretended to be a mute to save her life. Stark explained how Dusty won’t say a word around me unless I have proven myself trustworthy and he’s certain I won’t stab them in the back later. He also doesn’t liked being touched for some reason.
But despite being a mute (around me anyway) the guy is a damn good shot. He is the sniper of the group and with good reason. He can spot a raider or Khan forces about the same distance that we see them WITH A SCOPE! And he is good with his gun as well. Wearing a twin sniper battle saddle this guy can probably hit the dead center of a bottle cap from the distance we can spot an enemy target without a scope, which is about 200-300 feet I think. It’s hard to tell now that I'm a pony.
We encountered very little resistance. The largest pony force we encountered must’ve been four or five. Once during the trip we encountered a rogue “diamond dog”. Could’ve fooled me. If it wasn’t for the fact that these fuckers can dig and use weapons, I'm pretty sure I would’ve run off screaming “DEATHCLAWS! OH MY GOD RUUUUUN!” Heck I might still have done that if it wasn’t for the fact I was with others.
And as near-invincible as they seem, they can’t stand up to bullets, plasma (Stark had his signature plasma 9 millimeter pistol (Specially enchanted gun to give his bullets a plasma coating he said), and grenades. Lots and lots of grenades. Now I remember why Grenade machineguns are feared in the Mojave.
After finding out the diamond dog’s gun was retrievable and taking it into my loot pile, nothing happened. It was strange. We didn’t encounter anything but the occasional rad roach. Throughout the entire time I felt like I was being watched. Every time I’d turn around, I wouldn’t see anything.
Eventually after shrugging it off we made it to the camp. If you could call it a camp. I’d guess the camp was roughly a mile or two long, most of it filled with what I assume are NCR troops. They managed to build a wall surrounding the camp out of what appears to be wood, stone, building pieces, and the occasional piece of metal. Their flag was flying high and I got a good look at what the NCR here’s flag looked like.
Their flag was detailed. The background depicted a sunrise just peeking out from the horizon. There were six figures from what I could see on the left side of the flag. An earth pony, a unicorn, a hovering pegasus, a hovering griffon, a winged unicorn (an alicorn they called it), and what I think is a zebra. All six were posing heroically and looking at something to their right. To the right were big bold words colored red that said “NCR”.
It struck me as familiar and foreign at the same time. In fact it was so familiar that it is making me homesick. I had friends back in the Old World, and nothing seems right here. It’s probably because I can’t recognize anything here. I'm glad my NCR Emblem is still on my armor.
While I was lost in thought the gang ditched me and I was left alone. At least Stark is nice enough to give me a map and mark the most notable locations. One of them was their tents and he managed to write “come here when you’re done”
I walk around for a few minutes aimlessly, keeping track of any merchants, blacksmiths, gunsmiths, cookhouses, doctor camps, etc, that I can find. I keep getting stared at as I'm walking by. I think it’s because of either: my armor, my emblem, or the fact I'm new here. Whatever the case it unnerves me a bit. As a ranger, I'm not used to stares.
Eventually I randomly pick one of the blacksmiths and walk into the store. The griffon there was talking to a pegasus customer. The griffon seemed bored while the pegasus seemed rather angry about something.
I waited patiently while the two finished up. There wasn’t much to do so all I ended up doing is shifting my hooves and looking at the merchandise.
Whatever the griffon did, his weapons and armor are very impressive. From his swords (he is a blacksmith after all, it’s not like they can guns) showing flashy and fancy hooks, barbs, etc to his axes and maces that just look impressively dangerous. His armor boasted the same type of armor my Riot armor has.
Eventually the two finished their lovely chat. It got so lovely only one of them was screaming. And no one even got hit!
“*Sigh* sorry if you heard any of that. Sky wind there is always complaining that I overcharge for my wares. I'm Iron hammer by the way. One of the best damn blacksmiths you will find in this camp Anyway who are you? new here?.”
I believe him. After all, his inventory says everything. “I'm Ranger,” I tell him. “Yeah I'm new here and I'm just looking around. Do you know anyone that can repair armor?”
“That depends. Do you want the best quality your armor can be or do you want cheap?”
“Somewhere in the middle, I don’t know the price of everything here.”
“Well you came to the right place then! I'm not only one of the best, but I'm pretty modest in terms of prices. You want your armor fixed right?”
“Yeah, my armor has taken a beating”
“I can tell. Your helmet has a nasty dent in it. .308 by the looks of it. Tell me, your armor is made with Kevlar right?”
I take a step back and turn my head in confusion? “Kevlar? Is that what this stuff is?”
“Yeah, how could you not know what your armor is made out of?”
“Its old world technology; where I'm from we don’t know much of the old world tech.”
“Ah. That explains it. Not many ponies know the old world stuff. Let me tell you something. Kevlar is a synthetic fiber that can be turn into a series of “lightweight” armor that can stop pretty much any round when made correctly. I can tell I'm losing you already so I'm not even going to explain how you make it.”
Oh thank god he did! I was truly lost by the time he said ‘synthetic’ and only caught bulletproof. Alright anyway let’s go finish the deal. “So how much caps will these repairs cost me?”
He surprised me by laughing. He was laughing. Laughing! “oh don’t crack me up please don’t! didn’t you see the sign?” The sign? What sign?
“Look behind you” he tells me and I comply. Behind me there is a giant sign (how did I miss that?) that says Prices! (No exceptions no refunds) Repairs: Armor – 200 caps main (400 if power armor), 50-150 helmet, Kevlar ½ off! Leaher 1.2 extra Guns- 100 caps pistols, 200-500 heavy weapons 100-200 rifles, +100 caps if enchanted, +50 if energy weapons, ammunition not included go see someone else! Melee weapons- if they are not made by me piss off! 20-100 caps, If has moving parts +100-300 If you want me to create you a weapon, see me for specific details and prices.
“well……that’s very….. blunt” is all I can say to him.
“Aye that they are, but they’re my prices and I'm not going to change them, besides I think they’re very good. Granted they may be a bit overpriced for some weapons but for most, it’s a fair price and even cheaper than what it should cost to normally repair it. But that’s why there isn’t a line in my store. I'm not very nice and most of us are equipped with lesser weapons.”
I levitate my bag of caps out of my saddles and floats out 200 caps. “I need my armor and my helmet fixed. This is enough right? Oh! And why Is Kevlar cheaper if it is old world tech?”
“Yeah that’s more than enough for it. Take it off and I’ll have it finished in the morning tomorrow. And the answer to your last question is easy, because despite it being rather difficult, I enjoy making Kevlar and if you know where to look, the ingredients for it are rather cheap”
Using my levitation, I manage to take off my helmet and, piece by piece, my riot armor. Out of homesickness I say, “Be careful with the emblem. That’s special to me” which is entirely true, out here in the Fillydelphia War Zone, wherever here is, my NCR emblem, weapons, and armor is the only reminder of my old life I have.
Iron hammer chuckles. “Don’t worry, I will,” he reassures me. He was about to turn around and start repair when it looks like a thought crossed his mind. "Say Ranger? Mind telling me where you been?"
I flinch. I haven't really thought of telling the ponies of this place where i have been. And sure the gang asked me about my previous life, i managed to dodge the question or answer as simple as possible. I don't think i can get away with the former here. "I have been through quite a few places" I tell him. "Mainly over in the West" He seemed to accept that and left to start working on the armor.
After a pleasant goodbye I leave Iron Hammer’s tent and walks around some more. After a few minutes of walking I head over to one of the campfires for some food.
After buying a plate full of food (they eat meat here! Hooray!) and sitting down, I take this time to take a look at myself. My assumption that I was a unicorn is true. I'm a unicorn. What I didn’t know is what colors I was. I seem to be a deep brown color, kinda like leather brown. My hair (mane? Its mane right?) seems to be a cowboy brown, like my magical aura I have. I can’t see my eyes, but I assume they are the same sky blue-ish eyes I had back in the Mojave.
After eating I get up and continue to walk around. After a few more minutes I head into a store that apparently guarantees the best bullets in the campsite.
The owner there is surprisingly hostile. And I do not trust him one bit.
“What do you want?” He tells me, not even looking up from looking at his bottle cap he has in his magic.
I stop right where I was, which happened to be in the middle of the store. “You’re talking to me right?”
“No, I'm talking to the other idiot next to you. Of course I'm talking to you!”
“Ok geez god damn what’s your problem?”
“That’s none of your business! Now what do you want!?”
Damn this guy yells a lot. I wonder if I should go somewhere else for bullets….. “I hear you sell ‘the best bullets in the camp’ I'm here to see if that’s true”
“Humph, about time someone noticed that sign. Yes I sell the best bullets in all of the camp. Want to know why?” For the first time, he doesn’t seem harsh or greedy. He seems eager. Like what he said is actually true and no one notices.
I don’t say anything. He takes it as more than enough to keep going.
“My bullets, while significantly more expensive, are all specially enchanted with magic. Fire, water, electricity, ice, rock, stone, etc you name it and I made a bullet out of it. Hell I even have made magical armor piercing bullets. Guaranteed to go right through whatever you’re shooting at. Don’t even get me started on how I improved those Surplus bullets”
My ears perk up (apparently they can do that) at the mention of improved surplus ammo. “Wait wait wait! What was that about Improved surplus ammo!?”
His eyes grow wide in excitement “At last! Someone that knows a good deal when they hear it! Yes! I made a big improvement on that surplus ammo. You have a pip-buck so you know that these things deal less damage than normal rounds, but also help decrease weapon deterioration. Well I have managed to create special made rounds that help increase damage, go through a little bit of armor, and keep the decreased weapon deterioration. The only drawback is due to all the improvements, it’s twice the amount of caps of a normal bullet.”
“I'm impressed.” It’s not a lie. I'm new to this magic stuff, but if magic can do all this, what else can it do!?
“I'm glad you are, and sorry about my attitude. Not many people talk to me. Even less so talk to me about my craft.”
I’m shocked. It hasn’t even been a day yet and already I have heard sorry twice! There must be something in the air, no one says sorry! Though out of……something, I say “Hey it’s alright. Now about those bullets….”
We talked for about half an hour before I left the store with quite a bit of electricity based bullets and 150 caps less so all in all not a bad time. He was impressed and happy when I managed to drive down the bullets by a few caps. “Not many of us can do that, we’re all too focused on paying up front to know we can barter,” he told me.
I decided to bypass walking around a bit more by asking the gunsmith (Bullet Eye he calls himself) where a good general goods store is. He told me and I walk over there.
The sun was just setting when I managed to find the general store. Luckily for me, her store isn’t that far from our group’s tent so it shouldn’t be long.
I enter the tent and I immediately notice two things about this store. On one side there is nothing but brand new looking everything. On the other side is nothing but junk and scrap metal. I noticed a third thing. There was no slightly damaged anything. It was like I was looking at the Gun Runner’s arsenal.
“Ah! A customer! Oh goodie!” She happily replies. There’s the forth thing I noticed. She’s a pegasus. Which is odd to me, I haven’t seen many of them around here. “So tell me, what do you have for me?” She sounds playful. Like she’s excited to see a new face and all the goodies he or she will bring. The forth thing I noticed was she had a pip-…..buck? pip-buck right? She had one of those on.
I walk over to the counter and introduce myself. She tells me her name is Valiant Sky due to her having the color of the sky back during the old world. I can actually believe her. Back in my world, whenever we see the blue sky it looks like it could be a bluer blue, if that makes any sense.
While idly chatting with Valiant Sky I levitated every little single bit of loot, bullets (that weren’t 40-70 g’vt), and bought a few things myself that just added into my homesickness. I won’t have to worry about not having soda. They have that here as well. Sparkle Cola (Carrot!? I want cola! Not carrot!) And Sunrise Sarsaparilla (still tastes like root beer). God damn it these references hurt. But I guess I’ll have to deal with it.
I asked her why everything is either brand new looking, or a complete piece of shit. She explains that she buys items at a modest price and then fixes it up and sells it for roughly twice the price she bought it for. She says it isn’t a very profitable life, since the items needed to fix it have a price as well, but quite a lot of people come here so she gets by.
It was just as I was leaving a few hundred caps richer that she notices my Pip-boy.
“Hey wait mister! What is that type of Pip-buck you got on you?” She asks me.
I turn around to face her. “Oh apologies, I never gave you my name. It’s Ranger. And my Pip-boy? It’s just a plain old Pip-boy. I found it one day in the desert." Of course this is true. Kinda…. I found it on a dead prospector, but it was out in the middle of the desert so that counts, right?
“A pip-boy? I have never heard of those. Can I see it?”
Reluctantly, I handed it to her. “I don’t know what you’re going to do with it. It’s half broken anyway. The radio and the map are broken.”
“I can fix it for you” She tells me, making me take a step back in shock.
“You can!?”
“Sure, I fixed many Pip-bucks before and this shouldn’t be any different. All I ask for is some information and 200 of my caps back”
I debate what she is offering me in my head. If it was just the 200 caps I would’ve done it with no hesitation. However information can be very valuable. In the end I decide to accept it.
“Fine” I said while levitating 200 of her caps back. “What do you want to know?”
“No need to be so cold. I only want to know a few things that’s all.” She playfully tells me. PLAYFULLY! Who does that!? Apparently her, and she can do it well.
“Ok first up, Do you want your cutie mark on your ‘Pip-boy’?”
My what!? “My what?” I said to her, both in my mind and in my head. She sighs
“Your cutie mark. You know the picture on your flank. The picture that tells you what you’re good at.”
I turn to look at my ‘flank’ (why can’t they just say ass and be done with it?) and true enough there is a picture on both sides of my ‘flank’. The picture is My NCR’s flag with Ranger Sequoia crossed over it.
“Wonder what it means,” Valiant thinks aloud.
“I know what it means” I tell her. When she gives me a look I explain. “See the flag there? That flag symbols my NCR, or New California Republic. I worked for them as a ranger, the elite of the NCR. The gun there is Ranger Sequoia. It is given to veteran rangers on their 20th year serving with the NCR. So I guess my ‘special talent’ is being an NCR ranger for well over 20 years.”
“ooh! interesting! ok My last question, I promise. You’re not from here are you?”
“Well how’d you figure that out?”
She looks proud of herself. “Thought so. And to answer your question, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. A strange pony with strange armor and strange gear” She points toward my open saddlebags where Sunset Sarsaparilla and Nuka-Cola bottles are clearly visible. “Comes into town with even stranger ways and cutie mark, it isn’t hard to figure out. So tell me, where did you come from?
I sigh. There was no denying it now. Not that anyone has ever asked the question anyway. "Yeah you're right. I'm not from here. I come from....." I hesitate, wondering if i i should tell her. "I come from a different world, over in the west"
“Oh. Well anyway seriously, do you want your cutie mark painted on it? And don’t worry, it might seem odd to me, but I won’t change anything on there. You will still have your diamond dog based health status on it and I won’t delete any saved radio stations saved on it.”
“Ok, thank you. And sure why not, go ahead and paint it on there. Or at least the bear; if you can put the flag on there that would be great.”
“No problem Ranger. Come back tomorrow and I should be done fixing it.”
After thanking her one more time I head out of the tent and make my way to the tent where Stark and the others are located. It took a while but I made it there. Good timing too because the sun is starting to set over the horizon.
After making sure they were inside, I opened the tent flap and my jaw hit the floor. The entire tent, while seemingly small on the outside, is freaking HUMONGUS on the inside! It must’ve been two stories tall! With enough room for me and the gang and two or three extra guests to live comfortably while we’re here. It even had a kitchen, working water, and electricity!
Clover and noticed my entrance and he looked at me in confusion. “Who are you……? Wait? Ranger? Is that you?”
I nod my head, “Yeah it’s me. Nice to see you too Clover”
“Huh. So that’s what you look like. Thought you’d be different” He chuckles
I chuckle along with him. “And what, pray tell, did you think I’d actually look like under that armor?”
“You know, I actually have no idea to be honest. I didn’t know what to expect”
“Yeah same here” Before I say anything else I hear Stark yell from across the tent, “Hey Clover!? Is that Ranger at the door?”
“Yeah it’s Ranger!” He yells back.
“Hi Ranger! Welcome to our home!” Daisy yells from somewhere in the tent.
“Hey Clover! Bring him over to me. I got to talk to him. Don’t worry about him I’ll show him to his room when we’re done”
Without hesitation Clover leads me across the tent and into a room. I peek in and see Stark sitting at a table reading some papers. Clover politely leaves and it’s just me and Stark in the room.
“Hey Stark,” I start off. “Thanks for the map. Helped out a bit on the way over here.
“Yeah I thought you would need it. Where’s your armor and that ‘Pip-boy’ was it?” I nod. “Yeah Pip-boy, where are they?
“Getting fixed.” I told him.
“Ah, well I hope they’ll be done by tomorrow. You got a big day tomorrow.”
I crack a smile and joke around with him. “Yes dad, what are we doing tomorrow?”
He cracks one as well “Well ‘son’” we both laugh at that. We must’ve laughed for about a minute before we got serious again. “Ok seriously, you do have a big day tomorrow. I told Major Asshole-“
I cut him off with a laugh. A lot of laughs actually, I laughed for minutes on end. In fact it got so bad, not only was Stark laughing, but Clover and Daisy are as well!
We eventually got ourselves under control and we were able to get back to business. Seriously? His name is Asshole?” I ask stifling a giggle.
“Yeah, weird right? Seriously though his name is Major Charles Asshole. Anyway I went and reported in and told them about you. They want to talk to you tomorrow. I think they’re going to recruit you and you’re going to found the Equestrian NCR or something.”
“Yeah I’ll defiantly need my stuff for that. But I trust the shopkeepers that they know what they are doing and I’ll see them in the morning.”
“OK then. Now I’ll go and show you to our room. We all left you some ‘Welcome to the family’ gifts in there as well.”
“Gifts? For me? Really!?” I said in disbelief. When he nods I can only say, “Wow…. You guys shouldn’t have. I feel honored, truly.”
“Hey it’s no problem. You’re our brother now. Our brother in arms.”
We make it to my room and Stark opens the door for me. He beckons me inside and I comply without complaint. What I see stuns me.
My room isn’t humongous, but it isn’t ridiculously small either. I want to say it was about the size of a hotel room you can rent. They must’ve been nice to me because I have a window. A bathroom is located across the bedroom. But that isn’t what took my breath away.
What did do the trick were the gifts everyone gave me. Stacked right by the bed was a small assortment of gifts. But the value in each of them amazed me.
Stark, somehow, got me a repair bench. A repair bench! What surprised more about it was that there was a place that can help me maintain my armor! Daisy gave me a spell book. It was an elemental spell book. Skimming through it showed me that it wasn’t any old spell book (hell if I know a normal from an above average one). It showed spells that not only did elemental stuff, but allowed me, with the right power and concentration, enchant my bullets. Homemade magic bullets of death! They’re supposed to be hard to create though…..All in due time. Clover gave me a detailed map of the entire camp. It wasn’t like the map Stark gave me. It somehow was enchanted so that it not only showed my location, but any nearby shops and if they were any good or not. Big mac gave me the biggest overkill weapon in the wasteland: a grenade machinegun. It came with an instruction manual and enough grenades to murder the majority of all the deathclaw packs in the Mojave. Dusty surprisingly got me one too. It was a book. Not any book. It’s called ‘The Book of LittlePip” On the book there was a note from him. “Probably want to read this before you do anything here. This is pretty much the Bible of the Equestrian wasteland – Dusty”
Stark must’ve left me some time ago because I'm all alone in my room. I decide to organize my room and give everything a place. The repair bench and the Grenade Machinegun went into a corner next to a lamp. The spell book I put on an end table for now. I’ll look at it later. What intrigued me the most was the book Dusty game me.
Lying down on my bed (after putting everything where I want it) I lifted up the book and began reading. Man was this book thick! I had a lot of difficulty lifting up only one page at a time every time I read. But I didn’t complain, if it helps my precision in magic then be my guest I'm all up for it! It doesn’t help that the book is so damn good either.
Sometime later, I don’t know when, I fell asleep. And the next thing I know the sun is shining on my face. It is morning already. Grumbling the entire way I get up and head over to the kitchen to see if they have the miracle substance known as coffee.
THEY DO! Oh my god they do! Eagerly pouring a cup of coffee, I nearly spill the cup onto me as I hurriedly use my magic to lift the cup up to my mouth. I drank the contents of the coffee in one gulp. Oooh yeah that was good.
I went back into my room and I grab my gear. After grabbing everything of necessity, I was about to leave through the door when I heard a cough from behind me. I turn around and there are all five of my companions, all in their armor. In my haste/coffee rush I must’ve not noticed them.
“Hey guys. Good morning” I tell them.
“Good morning” they reply back.
“So what brings you guys here?”
“Well funny you should mention that. You remember how I told you we were brothers in arms?” Stark asks me. I nod; of course I would remember that.
“Yeah, how could I forget that?”
“Well we really mean that” Big Mac tells me.
“What do you mean?”
“We want to help you. We want you to make us rangers”.
Footnote: New S.P.E.C.I.A.L. learned! Magic: (starts at level 5) The basis of everything a unicorn stands for. Your magic is your power and it is one of your many weapons. Magic directly affects what you can hold (in value of weight) and for how long and directly links to how powerful elemental spells are; basically the higher the magic, the better the spells. Magic affects Levitation, Fire Spells, Electricity Spells, Water Spells, Earth Spells, etc. Challenge skill learned! The book of LittlePip Pt.1: Reading a hundred or so pages of the Equestrian Bible has improved your magic. Your magic and perception are increased by 1 and you have a basic understanding of Equestria 3 years ago. Level up! Companion trust: Working with Stark and the gang has given you a trust rarely seen in modern day Equestria and Pre-war Equestria! Your companion’s nerve are doubled and you deal a 1% extra damage with every companion with you.
