Long Shots: Redux (One Shot Version)

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Raiders are interesting folk. The’re usually forced into the life by circumstances beyond their control; be it poverty, survival, desperation, slavery, madness, drug use, or just being a second generation raider. And because of what they are, and what they do, they are often killed on site by merchants, travelers, and pretty much anything that ain't them. Like radroachs that wander too close. It's another, more subtle, horror of the Equestrian Wasteland. But if you sit and observe a group of raiders for a few days you begin to understand that they are ponies, just like us. They laugh, they cry, they mourn, they cheer, they play, they fuck, and they love. They are ponies just trying to survive out in the wastes, the only difference being that the only thing they look forward to is the suffering of others. Raiders even have some level of compassion and empathy, even if it's just for each other. At least that's what I have seen. And I have seen quite a bit observing from afar, through a high powered scope, attached to an even higher powered rifle. Like this little family of raiders I have been keeping an eye on for the past couple of days. Just six ponies waking up to fix breakfast and start the day.

At some point I always give my targets names; it helps pass the time and makes it easier for me to mentally keep track of them all. Small Fry is their leader, a petite little unicorn mare with a green coat that carries around a surprisingly well taken care of pump shotgun. Quick to anger, and a clever little bitch, she’s not afraid to fight of contenders for her position. Sledg, an unremarkable brown earth pony buck that’s handy with a sledgehammer, and not much else. Not much to say about him aside the fact he’s big and likes to laugh a lot. Cowboy, a black coated unicorn buck that carries around twin revolvers holstered to his sides; .38s I think, but it's hard to tell at this distance. He seems to be the quiet type and about the closest thing they have to a medic. Top and Bottom, a pair of dirty white unicorns bucks that I have seen more than once sneak off for a little alone time. Top has a red mane and is armed with a bolt rifle that looks like it has seen better days. The yellow maned Bottom carries around the butt stock of a similar rifle to Top’s, but uses it as a club, must hold some sort of sentimental value the way he cares for it. And finally there's Hole, a blue earth pony mare that spends a majority of her time being used as a hole, or eating one out, hence the name. She enjoyed it well enough from what I have seen, gets downright enthusiastic about it sometimes. She killed a seventh member of their troop with a wicked little knife strapped to her foreleg not long after I started watching them, he was a buck who wanted more then she was giving at that particular moment. One big happy family living under the roof of your friendly neighborhood post-apocalyptic Donut Joe's.

Fortunately for the wasteland, and most who inhabit it, this is a family I am going to break up. They have been raiding up and down this stretch of highway between Manehatten and Fillydelphia for a few weeks now, attacking two caravans before I came out here looking for them. I worked my way up to the top floors of this hospital to get a good view of the area. I spotted them about two miles away attacking a third caravan; too far away from me to do anything about, but close enough so that I could see the rape, murder and all the other reasons I needed to put them down. They didn't take any prisoners; they just dragged the bodies into a nearby building to rot after they were done with them. I watched them make their way back to camp, that was conveniently just within range of my cozy little hospital room. I stuck around for a couple of days to see if they they had any connections with the larger groups of gangs in the area or had any other friends running around the wastes. But they look to be all alone and accounted for.

I got my rifle ready; a fifty caliber anti-machine rifle with a marksman trigger and stock. The stock was designed fit into a pony’s shoulder while he, or she, lay prone. The trigger was a bit connected to the receiver of the rifle by a cable, so when the shooter pulled the trigger, the movement of their head wouldn't move the rifle and affect the shot. I place the bit in my mouth and lean forward into in the butt of the rifle, the bi-pod kept it from sliding forward. I pull back on the bolt making sure one of the massive rounds was chambered, and push it back in when I see the glint of brass. One in the chamber, and four more in the magazine. Looking through the scope the donut shop just about fills my field of view, even with the optic at full zoom. The ponies around the campfire out front look barely larger than a single tick on my retical. Hole's the first target, with any luck I would get her square in the temple and on through to the leg of Sledge, whom she was fellating. I line up the shot, range and windage already dialed into the scope, and a click to the left because the breeze picked up a little in the past few minutes. I hold my breath and steady the rifle for the shot. I was ready to pull the trigger when a green flash caught my eye.

I look over my scope to see what had caught the attention of my peripheral vision. It was a green bolt of plasma speeding across the sky. I quickly trace it back to a trio of fliers. Repeated shots of red lasers come from two of the fliers, aimed at a third. I turn my rifle towards the three, zooming the scope out a bit to better follow the action, the raiders could wait. They are pegasi, two in standard black Enclave armor, the other in an armor of similar design, but all white. The pegasus in white dives down to avoid the volley of lasers coming from the other two. The white one flattens out its flight path after putting enough distance between it and its two black pursuers. White, in one swift, graceful, motion folded in its wings, tumbled forward to face the black pair, and fires a pair of bright green bolts of plasma at the closer of the two. The bolts hit their target square in the chest, blowing bloody bits of flesh and armor into the sky before melting what was left of the pegasus into green goo. The remaining black armored pegasus veers off to avoid bits and pieces of its partner, then dives down to meet its white armored opponent with a storm of red laser fire. It’s a heck of a show to watch the two fight. For a full minute the two danced around each other, a steady stream of fire coming from the one in black, and the occasional green blast from the white. The deadly dance came to an end when the two charged each other. Black got a few good hits in, striking White in the shoulder and back, just before White obliterated its target in another flash of green. After that the white pegasus fell into a barely controlled free fall; one of its wings must have be injured in the last volley.

I wasn't the only one to notice the fight. I zoom out the scope father trying to keep an eye on the diner and the pegasus at the same time. I didn't have to zoom out very far. The raiders sat around the campfire, watching the show, chowing down on breakfast. White didn't land very far from the camp, a about a hundred yards by my guess. Small Fry made a gesture to Top and Bottom; they got up, gathered their weapons, and started trotting over to the crashed pegasus.

I turned on the broadcaster on my Pipbuck, setting it to broadcast on all frequencies. I hope White has a radio.

"White Dashite, White Dashite please respond." I said into my Pipbuck’s broadcaster around the bit in my mouth and waited for a response.

"I'm not a Dashite damnit, who is this?" Yells a pained female voice over the radio a few moments later. The Pipbuck automatically switching to her frequency.

"A wastelander with your best interests in mind. You landed near a raider nest and got two on their way to your location. Can you walk?" I quickly say as I watch the two raiders approach. They didn't see her yet, a skywagon she landed behind blocked their line of sight. I aimed for Top, as he’s the biggest threat to the downed mare at the moment.

"Shit! I can walk, but I’m grounded." She gets up, one of her wings limp at her side, and looks in the direction of the raiders through the skywagon; her armor probably has an Eyes Forward Sparkle. "How are they armed?"

"One has a club, the other a rifle."

"Copy." She readies herself into an aggressive stance watching the ticks on her E.F.S. Top said something to Bottom and the two split up, slowly going around the the skywagon.

"Take the one coming around the west side of the wagon, I got the other." Top comes around the front side of the wagon, his rifle up and ready to shoot whatever’s on the other side. I don’t give him the chance. I fire. A wave of warm gas and deafening sound fills the little hospital room I’m hiding in. I feel the concussion wave along my muzzle and in my chest as it pushes against the lower pressures in my body; if I wasn't wearing hearing protection I would likely be bleeding out of my ears. The rifle slammed into my shoulder from the recoil, more than likely leaving a nasty bruise, it always does. I keep my eye to the scope watching the bullet, or rather its wake, through the air as it speeds to its target. A second later it slammed into the unicorn, hitting him right behind his shoulder, sending bone and gore blasting out the other side. His magic dies out and he drops dead where he stood. Bottom disappeared in a blast of green energy almost at the same time as his lover. White turns around quickly as she could after firing off her shot ready to engage her other attacker, not trusting the mysterious voice over the radio to come through. Smart. She pauses, surprised when she sees Top's body, then suddenly looking around a second later after she hears the delayed report of the shot.

"The fuck..." Was all she said in confusion.

"Sorry, fifties tend to make a bit of a mess." I say as I work the action of my rifle slowly, picking out the spent brass to put it in my saddle bag, and load a fresh round into the chamber.

"How many are left?" She asks.

I look back over the camp. The remaining raiders were staring expectantly in the direction their two comrades went; possibly troubled by the distant gunshot. I doubt they heard White's plasma rifles. "Got four left, but there are still in their camp. Sit tight, I'll pick them off and warn you of any that come your way."

"Copy"

Small Fry gets up and starts barking orders to the other members of her band, guess she figures the two bit off more than they could chew. She's right. They got up and started gathering weapons. Cowboy checks his revolvers; he should have been more concerned with finding cover. The bullet hits him in the gut, spraying the ground behind him with blood. Hole and Small Fry find cover in the diner. Sledge drops his hammer and tries to drag the black unicorn to safety as he bleeds out. Sledge is strong and had no trouble moving his friend toward the diner at a steady pace. I only have to lead his movement a little bit. The round hit him square in the chest, he collapses on top of Cowboy. Muzzle flashes start blasting from one of the dinner windows, Small Fry's pissed. I guess she figured out what direction the my fire was coming from, but at this range she would be lucky to hit the building I was in, much less me. She hid behind the wall of the diner, shotgun hovering over her head firing blindly out a window; that's a mistake. I hit wall right below where her shotgun's floating, gore sprays into the dining room as the bullet passes through the wood, plaster and the mare that lay on the other side of it.

I saw movement at the edge of my scope, I pan over to find Small Fry galloping as fast as her short legs could take her trying to reach a cluster of homes a few hundred yards away, hoping to find better cover. I guess she used Hole as a distraction; clever girl. I work the action as fast as I could and line up the next shot on pure guess work and fire, hoping to hit the little bitch. I smile a little as it looks like my guess work paid off, the bullet and it's contrail follows on the right path. A moment later the mare tumbles to the ground, flank over hooves, her rear leg flying off in another direction. I pull back the bolt and remove the empty magazine from the rifle, replacing it with another one with five fresh rounds.

I look back through the scope at Small Fry, she was leaving a blood trail behind her as she scrambles to the cover of the homes using her magic to stop herself from bleeding out. I shoot her again, center mass. She's dead. I turn my scope back over to Cowboy, he is where Sledge left him, unable to move due to the the big buck's corpse laying on top of him. He too got a bullet to the chest. I couldn't see Hole, she was probably still behind cover in the diner; if there was any kindness in the universe she would bleed out quick.

"Ok White, raiders are taken care of." I said as I turned my attention back to the skywagon and the white armored mare sitting next to it. I line up another shot.

"White? I have a name you know." She says, her voice sounds stressed. From the looks of it she was bandaging herself up.

"Is that a fact?" I say.

"It's Cloud Swimmer. What's yours wastelander?"

"Long Shot."

"So, what happens now?" She asked, the last word was more of a grunt through clenched teeth as she presses a bandage into a hole in her shoulder.

"You sit tight while I work my way over there, we scavenge the camp, and head off to town for warm beds and cool drinks. How does that sound?"

“Sounds too good. You’re going to help me, just like that?” She asked skeptically.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a mare with a husky voice.”

She sighs. “Am I safe down here for the moment?”

I start disassembling my rifle, being careful of the hot barrel. “For the most part, not much in the way of traffic around here aside from merchants and very occasional raider. You got EFS right? Just keep an eye on it. The worst you’ll likely see if a couple of radroaches.”

“What the fuck is a radroach?”

Packing up the rifle , spent casings and the few bits of trash I’ve made in the in the past few days I trot into the hallway working my way to the stairwell. “Big bug, hard to kill. They tend not to stay squashed when you step on them.”

“Oh, so you mean like a cockroach?”

I stay silent for a few moments while I disarm a trip wire I placed on the entrance to the eighth floor, the only clear stairwell to the floor I was on. “I think so, but they have gotten a bit bigger since the bombs fell I think.” I drop down into a hole in the floor and stepped onto a filing cabinet I placed there to help me climb up this damn thing. I'm careful to avoid a piece of rebar that nearly skewered my bits on the climb up. “Where did you learn what a cockroach is? You got them skittering around on the clouds up there?”

She didn’t answer right away, it gave me time to navigate my way down two more floors though collapsed debris and a broken window.

“I rather not talk about it.” Her voice sounds sad though my ear bloom.

“The bugs or the clouds?”

“The clouds.”

“Why’s that?”

“I can’t go back.”

I’m a bit started by that. Almost enough to make me slip on the I-beam I was walking across, but I catch myself. “Have something to do with those two you were fighting with?”

She chuckles. “Actually no. It has more to do with my plot being on the ground. Quarantine rules. Any flyer that makes extended contact with the ground below the floor, sorry the cloud layer, is either exiled and left to die or is hunted down. And we don’t go for exile much these days.”

“I’m guessing a bit of soap and water is not going to get you back.”

Cloud sighs. “If only it were that easy. Once it’s been determined I’m MIA they will try and locate me using my Pipbuck tag. And if a pegasus is found to be in the dirt they will send Hunters to take them out. A scavenger team is then dispatched to collect anything valuable off the bodies.”

I move down another stairwell, mostly clear save for a vending machine that fell from a floor above; tricky to get around, but more annoying than anything else.

"So how long before they find you?" I ask. I'm not going to be happy about contending with Enclave. I tend not to trust anypony that move faster than I can shoot.

"They won't. I've tinkered with the tag in my armor, turned it off. They won't waste their time actually looking for me if they can't see the tag." I could almost hear the smug grin on her face.

"Good." I stumble over a gurney and damn near fall into an open elevator shaft. I don't need to get down from here quite that quickly. A thought started to form in my head, something I'm a mite curious about. "Cloud, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why were you so pissed off I called you a Dashite?"

There was silence over the radio for a few minutes before I got a response. "Remember the Hunters I was telling you about? I’m one of them."

"And a Hunter doesn't want to become hunted I take it."

"Something like that."

We kept on like that for about an hour. Just talking, keeping her company as I climbed my way down the last few floors of the hospital and trecked across the old town's ruins. She didn't say much more about her life above the clouds, but she asked me quite a bit about life down here. About things she seen on her hunting trips below the clouds.

Before long I was walking up the the overturned skywagon looking forward meeting the mare I rescued. I stepped around Top's body, curious as to why she hadn't shown up on EFS yet, and looked past him to the vacant spot where Cloud was bandaging herself up. It was then that I heard the sound of capacitors charging up.

“Turn around. Slowly.” She commanded.

I did, having no intention on giving this mare any reason to shoot me. Honestly I’m not mad at her, I would do the same in her position. And meetings in the wasteland were often done with one party under the gun anyway. Doesn't mean I have to like it.

“Good to finally meet you face to face Miss Cloud Swimmer.” I say without expressing any of my concerns about her turning me into a puddle of green goo.

“You are...not what I expected.” She said in apprehensive tone.

Midnight blue coat, royal purple mane, sky blue eyes, and about as skinny as stallions come; I’m not the most intimidating buck in Equestria. Doesn't help my clothing is more patches than cloth, or that my hat is about one good rainstorm away from falling apart around my ears. My saddlebags are a sewn together amalgamation of leather and canvas held together with more hope than thread. Add to the image the comically large rifle barrel on my left side that looked like it was threatening to topple me over at any moment and I was a sad sight indeed.

Cloud Swimmer on the other hoof was about as intimidating as mares come. Tall, strong lean muscle, the Enclave armor with those wicked looking plasma rifles and that deadly scorpion tail would have had me peeing myself if I was on her bad side. The dirty white coloring of the armor did take a fraction of point off her intimidating presence, but it really is hard to beat black. Under her armor she looks to have a light gray coat, her mane hidden underneath the helmet and her eyes behind dark amber lenses.

“Well, you fallin’ out of the sky wasn't exactly what I thought was going to happen today, but here you are.” I say, giving her a friendly smirk. “Speaking of fallin’, how you holdin’ up?”

It’s hard to read her expression behind the helmet, but I imagine it’s one of intense scrutiny. “I'll endure.” Is all she said. The words came out stiff and flat. So, she's probably in a great deal of pain, which means she’s also in a bad way. I’ll leave it for now, my more immediate concern is getting her not to kill me.

“Right. So are you um...planning to shoot me?” I gesture with one of my forehooves at her guns. She starts to shake then collapses onto her belly. Guess we’re not leaving that wound for later. I walk up to the prostate pegasis slowly.

“I’m fine, just get away!” Shes tries to push herself up, almost succeeds too, but then fall back onto the dirt with a cry.

I put drop my saddle bags next to her and move to where I can look her in the eye. “Cloud Swimmer you’re hurt, bad enough to where you can’t stand. You can either be stubborn and pretend like it ain't nothin. In which case I’m going to leave your stubborn ass right here to stubbornly die.” I couldn’t see past past the helmet to gauge her reaction, but the clenching of her jaw told me she might not like that idea. “Or let me have a look at you and see if my first-aid skills are up to snuff.”

“Are you a trained medic?” She asks through clenched teeth.

“I’ve gotten enough practice over the years. Enough to know that septicemia sucks and I try to prevent it where I can.”

“Septicemia?”

“Blood infection.” I move up to her. “Now how do we get this armor off you?”

She reaches the side of her head with her good arm and knocks the helmet off her head. Untrusting yellow eyes behind a short mane the color of thunder clouds. “You are going to have to pull the back plate off, I released the lock already, just pull.”

I move up behind her and pull off the plate between her wings to reveal her upper back and withers. The pegasus screams as the plate takes some of the wound’s dressing and scabbing with it. The wound was fairly deep, cauterized flesh cracked and bleeding, blood and pus seeping out slowly. It probably went deep enough to to tear up the complex layers of tendons and muscles. The only thing likely keeping her wing folded against her side was the armor.

“How’s it looks?” she asks me in between rapid breaths.

“Not great, magic weapons tend to be nasty.” I say grimly as I rummage around my saddle bags. "Good thing I came prepared for just such an occasion." I tell her as I pull out two bottles of water and a small wax paper packet that contained a fine yellow powder.

"Unless you are moonlighting as a surgeon, there is not much to be done."

"While you got all the tech and civilization above the clouds, we have our own ways down here." I unfold the packet and pour the contents into one of the water bottles, giving it a few good shakes to make sure it's good and mixed. "I got a potion here from a very nice gal over in Manehatten; and what it does is it's going eat away at all that dead flesh in the wound. I pour a healing potion down your gullet, and you will be good as new."

"That sounds too easy." She groans.

"Well, I can tell you from personal experience this is going to hurt like a mother fucker." I pull out a knife from a sheath beneath my rags and offer her the handle. "Chew on this, it'll help."

She grips the knife in her mouth.

"Ready?"

"Y..." Her screams are muffled coming out around the knife handle as I pour the contents slowly over the wound. It bubbles and foams and smells like ammonia. Scabs and dead flesh melt away where ever the liquid touches. She cries and shakes and moans and screams. It feels like somepony poured kerosene into your wound and lit it on fire. I let it set for a good thirty seconds before I wash the cavity out with the the clean bottle of water revealing shiny pink flesh, bright red blood and ivory tendons.

She's breathes heavily as the tide of pain recedes. "I'm going to tear out your fuc..." She screams at me before I cut her off by shoving a healing potion into her muzzle I retrieved from my pack while the damn yellow shit was at work. She drank from the bottle greedily, letting it unceremoniously fall from her muzzle when its contents were drained. The wound stitched itself back together and angry pink patch of skin was all that was left to show that there was even a wound.

"Feeling better?" I ask.

She just lies there and gives me a look, it's half gratitude and half 'If you ever do that again I'll cut out your spleen and make you fucking eat it'.

I left Cloud a small pistol to signal with as I let her rest and went to loot the camp. The raiders had all expired by the time I got to there, from the looks of it Hole lasted the longest with the hoof sized hole through her back and larger hole out her stomach; she managed to crawl into a bathroom and died trying to dress her massive wound. What a mess.

There wasn't much of value there save for some ammunition, some chems, and Small Fry’s shotgun; but I took it all, good for trade. I hung Small Fry's body from the front of the diner with a sign around her neck that read “RAIDERS.” Morbid, but it did send a message.

I trotted back to where I left the pegasus. She laid there, passed out from this morning ordeal. I nudge her with a hoof and she groggily get up.

“Come on, get up.” I say to her, knowing that it’s likely the last thing she wants to do right now. “We’re goin’ to make camp in the hospital, you can rest as long as you need to once were there.”

“Help me get my armor back on.” I nod and gently push the back plate back into place and carefully placed her helmet back onto her head. “Thanks.” She says to me half heartedly.

“Take it easy for a while, we ain’t in any rush.” I say say to her as she slowly, but steadily trots towards the looming building.

“That’s good. Because this might take a while.” Cloud give me a weak smile.

It was a slow and silent trudge back to the hospital. I set up a little camp in the middle of the main lobby, Cloud would be too weak to make the climb upstairs and the high ceilings would allow me to make a fire in here without attracting too much outside attention. I helped her out of her armor once I laid out a bed roll. Aside from the energy impact on her back the pegasus was relatively uninjured, a few bruises here and there. I saw her cutie mark, some sort of arcano tech circuitry. She slept for the rest of the afternoon and through the night. I busied myself with making camp and cooking myself dinner. just doing what I normally did, except much quieter. It was mid morning the next day before she stirred.

“Mornin’” I say her before I set an open can of warmed baked beans in front of her. It takes her a second to realize what’s in front of her before she greedily grabbed the can and poured the mouthful by mouthful into her maw. Damnest thing about healing potions is that you ravanis after drinking one, after about twelve hours, however long before that when she had her last meal, and that stunt flying she was doing I’d imagine that she’d be bit peckish.

“This is really good!” She said, her face lit up like a foal’s on Hearth's Warming Eve. She searches her armor and pulls out a spoon to scrape out every last bean from the can. Then she sticks her muzzle in and starts licking the inside of the it. I watch with amusement having never seen anypony so enthusiastically attack a can of beans before.

“Should I give you two some space?”

She pauses and give me a confused look. “What do you mean?” She give the can a few more licks.

“It looks like you are about to make love to them beans.”

“If all the food down here is that good then this might turn into an orgy.” She grins and goes back to cleaning the inside of the can. It was now my turn to give her an odd look.

“It’s just plain beans, ain't nothing special.” Heck, it wasn't even one of the spicy or sweet varieties that I like.

“It’s a lot better than what I eat…” She paused for moment and her eyes darted to the side. “What I used to eat on a daily basis.” She looked at the can and smiled. “I can now understand why some of us wanted to make a life in the dirt.” She looks around, searching for something. “How do you clean these?” She asks holding up the can.

“Just throw it out, wastes water cleaning them and they rattle too much when empty.” I guess pegasi really have to get used to reusing everything. How much scrap could clouds hold anyway?

She looked shocked. “You just throw containers away?”

“No lack of them down here, we just lack things to fill them with.”

“Oh” She sets the can down gently.

“How’s your back?”

She she extends her wings and give a slight wince in pain when they were nearly extended. “I wont be flying for a while.” Her tone expressing a great deal of disappointment.

I start packing up camp. “Well you can travel with me for a spell if you want. If we’re lucky we’ll come across a merchant to get you something to cover up that armor of yours before we hit a town.” Honestly I wouldn't mind the company, gets awfully lonely out here. Plus I don’t have to worry about her in a fight. “And after your back on your wings you could head on your merry way.”

“Yea.” She says to me without hardly any enthusiasm as she dons her armor with slow practiced movements. She grabs her helmet and looks at it. “Long, is it a good life?”

Her question takes me off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Living down here in the wasteland, is it a good life.”

I take a second to ponder her question before I answer. “Some nights you go to sleep hungry, some nights you can’t get to sleep because of the things you've done and the things you've seen. But there are some nights where you sleep well because you did the right thing that day; and those are the days you live for. I can’t say for sure if it’s a good life, but it beats the heck out of some the ones I've seen.”

“Living to do the right thing.” She smirked and gave a slight shake of her head. “That’s going to be a heck of a change.” Cloud put on her helmet, those yellow bug eyes staring at me. “Where do we begin?”

Chapter 1: Fallen. (old)

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Long Shot

Raiders are interesting folk. The’re usually forced into the life by circumstances beyond their control; be it poverty, survival, desperation, slavery, madness, drug use, or just being a second generation raider. And because of what they are, and what they do, they are often killed on site by merchants, travelers, and pretty much anything that ain't them. Like radroachs that wander too close. It's another, more subtle, horror of the Equestrian Wasteland. But if you sit and observe a group of raiders for a few days you begin to understand that they are ponies, just like us. They laugh, they cry, they mourn, they cheer, they play, they fuck, they love. They are ponies just trying to survive out in the wastes, with the only thing to look forward to is the suffering of others. They even have some level of compassion and empathy, even if it's just for each other. At least that is what I have seen. And I have seen quite a bit observing from afar, through a high powered scope, attached to an even higher powered rifle. Like this little family of raiders I have been keeping an eye on for the past couple of days. Just six ponies waking up to fix breakfast and start the day.

At some point I always give my targets names; it helps pass the time and makes it easier for me to mentally keep track of them all. Small Fry is their leader, a petite little unicorn mare with a green coat that carries around a surprisingly well taken care of pump shotgun. Quick to anger, but she’s also a clever little bitch. Sledg, an unremarkable brown earth pony buck that’s handy with a sledgehammer, and not much else. Not much to say about him aside the fact he’s big. Cowboy, a black coated unicorn buck that carries around twin revolvers holstered to his sides; .38s I think, but it's hard to tell at this distance. He seems to be the quiet type and about the closest thing they have to a medic. Top and Bottom, a pair of dirty white unicorns bucks that I have seen more than once sneak off for a little alone time. Top has a red mane and is armed with a bolt rifle that looks like it has seen better days. The yellow maned Bottom carries around the butt stock of a similar rifle to Top’s, but uses it as a club, must hold some sort of sentimental value the way he cares for it. And finally there's Hole, a blue earth pony mare that spends a majority of her time being used as a hole, or eating one out, hence the name. She enjoyed it well enough from what I have seen, gets downright enthusiastic about it sometimes. She killed a seventh member of their troop with a wicked little knife strapped to her foreleg not long after I started watching them, he was a buck who wanted more then she was giving at that particular moment. One big happy family living under the roof of your friendly neighborhood post-apocalyptic Donut Joe's.

I look over my scope to see what had caught the attention of my peripheral vision. It was a green bolt of plasma speeding across the sky. I quickly trace it back to a trio of fliers. Repeated shots of red lasers come from two of the fliers, aimed at a third. I turn my rifle towards the three, zooming the scope out a bit to better follow the action, the raiders could wait. They are pegasi, two in standard black Enclave armor, the other in an armor of similar design, but all white. The pegasus in white dives down to avoid the volley of lasers coming from the other two. The white one flattens out its flight path after putting enough distance between it and its two black pursuers. White, in one swift, graceful, motion folded in its wings, tumbled forward to face the black pair, and fires a pair of bright green bolts of plasma at the closer of the two. The bolts hit their target square in the chest, blowing bloody bits of flesh and armor into the sky before melting what was left of the pegasus into green goo. The remaining black armored pegasus veers off to avoid bits and pieces of its partner, then dives down to meet its white armored opponent with a storm of red laser fire. It’s a hell of a show to watch the two fight. For a full minute the two danced around each other, a steady stream of fire coming from the one in black, and the occasional green blast from the white. The deadly dance came to an end when the two charged each other. Black got a few good hits in, striking White in the shoulder and back, just before White obliterated its target in another flash of green. The white pegasus fell into a barely controlled free fall; one of its wings must have be injured in the last volley.

I wasn't the only one to notice the fight. I zoom out the scope farther trying to keep an eye on the diner and the pegasus at the same time. I didn't have to zoom out very far. The raiders sat around the campfire, watching the show, chowing down on breakfast. White didn't land very far from the camp, a about a hundred yards by my guess. Small Fry made a gesture to Top and Bottom; they got up, gathered their weapons, and started walking over to the crashed pegasus.

I turned on the broadcaster on my Pipbuck, setting it to broadcast on all frequencies. I hope White has a radio.

"White Dashite, White Dashite please respond." I said into my Pipbuck’s broadcaster around the bit in my mouth and waited for a response.

"I'm not a Dashite damnit, who is this?" Yells a pained female voice over the radio. The Pipbuck automatically switching to her frequency.

"One has a club, the other a rifle."

"Copy." She readies herself into an aggressive stance watching the ticks on her E.F.S. Top said something to Bottom and the two split up, slowly going around the the skywagon.

"Take the one coming around the west side of the wagon, I got the other." Top comes around the front side of the wagon, his rifle up and ready to shoot whatever’s on the other side of that wagon. I don’t give him the chance. I fire. A wave of warm gas and deafening sound fills the little hospital room I’m hiding in. I feel the concussion wave along my muzzle and in my chest as it pushes against the lower pressures in my body; if I wasn't wearing hearing protection I would likely be bleeding out of my ears. The rifle slammed into my shoulder from the recoil, more than likely leaving a nasty bruise, it always does. I keep my eye to the scope watching the bullet, or rather its wake, through the air as it speeds to its target. A second later it slammed into the unicorn, hitting him right behind his shoulder, sending bone and gore blasting out the other side. His magic dies out and he drops dead where he stood. Bottom disappeared in a blast of green energy almost at the same time as his lover. White turns around quickly as she could after firing off her shot ready to engage her other attacker, not trusting the mysterious voice over the radio to come through. She pauses, surprised, when she sees Top's body, suddenly looking around after she hears the delayed report of the shot.

"The fuck..." was all she said in confusion.

"Sorry, fifties tend to make a bit of a mess." I say as I work the action of my rifle slowly, picking out the spent brass to put it in my saddle bag, and load a fresh round into the chamber.

"How many are left?" She asks.

"Copy"

Small Fry gets up and starts barking orders to the other members of her band, guess she figures the two bit off more than they could chew. She's right. They got up and started gathering weapons. Cowboy checks his revolvers; he should have been more concerned with finding cover. The bullet hits him in the gut, spraying the ground behind him with blood. Hole and Small Fry find cover in the diner. Sledge drops his hammer and tries to drag the black unicorn to safety as he bleeds out. Sledge is strong and had no trouble moving his friend toward the diner at a steady pace. I only have to lead his movement a little bit, the round hit him square in the chest, he collapses on top of Cowboy. Muzzle flashes start blasting from one of the dinner windows, Small Fry's pissed. I guess she figured out what direction the my fire was coming from, but at this range she would be lucky to hit the building I was in, much less me. She hid behind the wall of the diner, shotgun hovering over her head firing blindly; that's a mistake. I hit right below where her shotgun's floating, gore sprays into the dining room.

I saw movement at the edge of my scope, I pan over to find Small Fry galloping as fast as her short legs could take her trying to reach a cluster of homes a few hundred yards away, hoping to find better cover. I guess she used Hole as a distraction, clever girl. I work the action as fast as I could. I line up the next shot on pure guess work and fire, hoping to hit the little bitch. I smile a little as it looks like my guess work paid off, the bullet and it's contrail looks to be on the right path. A moment later the mare tumbles to the ground, flank over hooves, her rear leg flying off in another direction. I pull back the bolt and remove the empty magazine from the rifle, replacing it with another one with five fresh rounds.

"Ok White, raiders are taken care of." I said as I turned my attention back to the skywagon and the white armored mare sitting next to it.

"White? I have a name you know." She says, her voice sounds stressed. From the looks of it she was bandaging herself up.

"Is that a fact?" I said.

"It's Cloud Swimmer. What's yours wastelander?"

"Long Shot."

"So, what happens now?" She asked, the last word was more of a grunt through clenched teeth as she pulled a bandage tight..

"You sit tight while I work my way over there, we scavenge the camp, and head off to town for warm beds and cool drinks. How does that sound?"

“You’re going to help me, just like that? No slavery? No expectation of payment?” She asked skeptically.

“Yep”

She sighs, I guess today’s been a hell of a day for her. "Just let me know when your coming. You sneak up on me I’m very likely to shoot you."

"Fair enough, I'll be there in a jiffy!"

A jiffy is the exact length of time it takes to break down my rifle, gather my stuff,disarm my traps, make it down thirteen floors of ruined hospital, and sneak across nearly a mile of wasteland. In other words, two hours.

I really hope this bitch doesn't shoot me.

Chapter 2: Signs (old)

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Long Shot

Well, she hasn't shot me yet; guess that’s a good sign. She did have two rather powerful looking plasma rifles pointed at me tho, but meetings in the wasteland were often done with one party under the gun anyway. Might as well properly introduce myself to the grouchy pegasus I just woke up from a rather uncomfortable looking nap.

“Good to finally meet you face to face Miss Cloud Swimmer.” No reason to be rude, there is enough tension in the air without me getting a bit pissy about being in the business end of her weapons.

“You are...not what I expected.” She said in apprehensive tone.

Midnight blue coat, royal purple mane, sky blue eyes, and about as skinny as stallions come; I’m not the most intimidating buck in equestria. Doesn't help my clothing is more patches than cloth, or that my hat is about one good rainstorm away from falling apart around my ears. My saddlebags are a sewn together amalgamation of leather and canvas held together with more hope than thread. Add to the image the comically large rifle barrel on my left side threatening to topple me over at any moment and I was a sad sight indeed.

Cloud Swimmer on the other hoof was about as intimidating as mares come. Tall, strong lean muscle, and that Enclave armor with those wicked looking plasma rifles and that deadly scorpion tail would have had me peeing myself if I was on her bad side. The dirty white coloring of the armor did take a fraction of point off her intimidating presence, but it really is hard to beat black. Under her armor she looks to have a light gray coat, her mane hidden underneath the helmet and her eyes behind dark amber lenses.

It’s hard to read her expression behind the helmet, but I imagine it’s one of intense scrutiny. “I can walk.” Is all she said. The words came out stiff and flat. So, she's probably in a great deal of pain. I just hope she don't keel over on me because of some sense of pride or stubbornness.

“Well, if you want, you can tag along while I loot these poor bastards.” I say as I move to Top to exchange hats with the dead buck, his being in much better shape than my own. It's a billed hat that has a bit of cloth that hangs down to my neck, I like that, goes with the rest of my of my dirty wastelander motif. The rifle he carried was junk, lugs sheared off and probably only fired when magic was holding it together; but I could use the ammo to barter with. I relieve him of the last of his useful things, a healing potion and a few bobby pins, and start dragging his carcass to the camp.

"What are you doing?" Cloud asks, cocking her head to the side like a confused dog.

"Gunna make an example out of them so any other raiders come across here don't feel safe." I say dragging the dead buck along. Dear sweet Celestia did he smell, and I'm certain that very little of that was due to him being dead.

We reach the camp, Cloud Swimmer silently followed me, observing everything I was doing.Likely trying to figure out what this odd dirt pony was going to do.

I check on Hole to make sure she was dead before I start to raid this little nest; she was. The earth pony mare managed to drag herself across to the other side of the diner with the shotgun before expiring; likely she was waiting to shoot the next pony who came in. But one doesn't last long when a good portion of your liver lay scattered across the floor. I take the shotgun, it's in really good shape and likely to fetch more than a few shiny caps. I searched the rest of the camp and find little of value outside bullets and some drugs. Cowboy's pistols were in about as a bad a shape as Top's rifle. I gathered the bodies and piled them in front of the shop, I strung up Small Fry above them by the neck with a sign that read:

Murderers

Rapists

Raiders

The pegasus didn't say much of anything while I did all this. I don't know if it was of shock, or contempt, or if she was planning to kill me in my sleep. If she felt anything for what I did she kept it to herself.

With the job done I set off down an old world highway, north, towards town. Cloud Swimmer silently keeping pace with me. Her silence was bugging me, so after about a half hour of it I decide to pry a conversation out of the pegasus.

"So, where you from?" I ask trying to act as friendly as possible.

"Up there." She said as she pointed her muzzle up towards the ever cloudy sky.

Yay she's snarky. This was going to be fun.

"That right? I'd have you figured for a Manehatten girl." I could give it right back "How's that injury of yours, you're not going to drop dead on me anytime soon are you?" I look at the area where she had been shot, the armor had already repaired itself leaving only scorch marks. That’s handy.

"I'll endure." She responds in the in same flat tone as before.

"Oh I have no doubt about that, you made it this far. But, if you want to stop and take proper care of it, I'm in no hurry." Being injured out here is no laughing matter. One infected cut a few days away from anything close to proper medical care makes for one damned long trip. Septicemia sucks.

She sighs. "Look, I just want to make it some sort of civilization before something eats us."

I laugh at that and she gave me a stern look. "Is that what has your tail in a knot? Worst critters you got to worry about in these parts are bloatsprites and radhogs. And to tell you the truth I wouldn't mind if a radhog did roll up on us, damn good eatin'."

The pegasus just stopped and stared at me, jaw dropped. "You...eat meat?"

"Food's food honey, we don't get to be picky too often down here." And sometimes it's damn good, like that radgator stew I had in manehatten.

"But...ponies don't..."

I cut her off there. "We can, we do. Welcome to Equestria." I didn't want to get into another discussion on the morally or biology of ponies eating meat. Doing it with green stable ponies is bad enough.

"I knew that those below were backwards, but this is beyond the pale." She muttered as we continued on our way.

"Oh we're not backwards, just don't have much in the way of options." I let her ponder that for a few minutes before I hit her with my next question. "So, why were those folks in black so keen on ending you?"

"Enclave business, it's none of you concern." She in a rather dismissive tone. Well that’s interesting.

"Planning on going back?" Her silence was answer enough. Enclave’s not likely to take her back. "So what does it matter?"

She glared at me. That look was getting old.

"It's none of your concern." She repeated.

I let it drop there. If she doesn't want to tell me that's fine; I'd just like to know if any of her friends were going to come down and check on her.

Cloud Swimmer opened up a little after that, tho she was not much of a conversationalist. She would occasionally ask a question or two about some thing or another about life down here, I talked at length about whatever she brought up, mostly things about how we dirt ponies survive down here. I added a few personal stories to mix things up. I don’t think she cared for the one about the time I got haybugs from a whore in Manehatten.

By the afternoon she was slowing down with a bit of a limp in one of her forelegs the wound has probably been bothering her. I steer us towards a burnt out prewar building, hidden enough from the road to avoid the curious. It used to be some small store or something, but now it was our camp for tonight. I gather some wood, and whatever else might burn, and start us a small fire. She just watches me, stoic as ever, as I tap a spark gem over some kindling to ignite a flame.

I look over to the pegasus, she's standing, but leaning to one side. "Alright, let's get you out of that armor..." Her E.F.S. tag went from dull yellow to bright red as I was cut off by the sound of her plasma rifles charging up. Well apparently getting eaten wasn't the only worry she had about being down here.

"Not a chance." She growled menacingly.

"Oh for the love of Luna's sweet flank! I just want to get a look at that injury before sundown. I know the damn thing's been bothering you all day. I want to get it cleaned and dressed before you pass out and I have to drag your heavily armored ass all the way to town." I say in a more than slightly irritated voice. "I swear to everything tainted and unholy if I have to do that I'll make sure to hit every pothole on the way." OK, a lot more than slightly irritated.

She sat down, hard, and just nodded in defeat. Maybe a bit embarrassed that she misread my intentions or maybe she wasn't expecting the outburst? Her tag on my E.F.S. went from red back to yellow, so that was all that really mattered.

I put my saddlebags down and rummage through them to find my first aid kit, a small leather pouch that holds my odds and ends for healing all manner of wounds. I also take out a few bottles of water.

I turn back to her and find that she has already removed her helmet. Her short, dark gray, mane is matted to her head, and her eyes, a bright yellow, glaring at me. Again with the glares.

"Don't you dare try anything...funny."

"You have my word. If I want funny, I'll pay for it." Honestly she isn't my type. She gives me an odd look, but nods.

The rifles drop off the sides of her armor with soft clunks. The armor on each of her legs loosened as she took them off one at a time. The breastplate falls open from the front and gently rests on the ground, propping up the rest of the armor making it look bit like a white clam shell. She steps out of the shell, left wing was drooping slightly, and there was a limp in the foreleg on the same side. Her cutie mark looks like magitech circuit. I wonder what that means.

"That looks like it hurts" I comment as I notice the soiled bandages on her withers.

"Just do what you got to do."

She lays in front of me and I clean her up the best I can. The magic blasts struck deep just over her wing joint, scorching muscles and tendons that I imagine are important for flight. Nice thing about magical energy damage is that the wounds cauterize, so little risk of bleeding out; but it does make the healing a pain in the rear. If you just leave it the wound it will scar permanently. Those scars tend to be nasty due to energy weapons burning holes through you or blasting chunks out of you.

I pull out a bottle of yellow liquid from my kit, I bought it off a mare in Tenpony for just such an occasion. I don't know what it's called, 'damn yellow shit' usually suffices, but it works wonders getting dead tissue out of the way for healing potions to work their magic. It saved me once from looking like a ghoul after I got a bit too close to an angry robot with a flamer. It's a concentrate, so I mix it with a bit of water in a cleaned out Sparkle-Cola bottle.

I pull out my knife and present the handle to the mare. "You might want to bite down on this. I'm going clean out the burned flesh with this..." I show her the Sparkle-Cola bottle. "...It will allow everything to heal up normally. But I'm not going to lie, it's gonna' hurt...a lot."

She bites down on the handle, blade away from me, and shuts her eyes, prepared for the bad feelings to come. I pour the liquid slowly into her wound, it immediately begins to sizzle and foam giving off a strong ammonia smell. Cloud crys, whimpers and shakes as the chemical does its work. It feels like somepony poured kerosene into your wound and lit it on fire. I pour a bottle of water into the wound to clean out a majority of the yellow liquid after it has done its work, leaving behind shiny pink flesh and more than a little fresh blood. It looks worse then it started, and to be honest it kinda is.

"Drink this." I give her a half dosage of a healing potion. A full one would heal too fast, bad for setting bones and healing connective tissue, but the half would seal the wound and help the body to heal itself. She spits out the knife and downs the potion as fast as she can. The injury starts to knit itself back together, looking as if it was never there. But I bet she could feel it. The pegasus just laid on the ground panting.

"I wouldn't try flying for a few days, those shots got you deep and you need proper time to heal" I warn her

She looks over at me with her tired yellow eyes, tears welling up from them. This mare has been through a lot, and I guess the pain was just a catalyst for her emotions to spill over. I pet her head and she cries harder. There are times when a pony goes through too much, too fast, and just has their emotions well out of them. Celestia know I've done it my fair share of times.

"It's alright girl, let it out." I keep close by her until she falls asleep, curled up by the campfire. I set some booby traps around the small store and lie down near her, just out of reach. Sleep comes easy to me.

I'm up first and I heat up a couple of cans of baked beans on the remnants of the campfire for breakfast. I hear her stur behind me and give and very nasty groan as she awkwardly gets up and stretches.

"I'll never complain about sleeping on storm clouds again." She mumbles and walks over to my side and grabs one of the cans. That's a good way to lose a hoof.

"Your welcome."

"What?" She gives me a funny look.

"You're suppose to ask politely if you can take something that belongs to somepony else before you go and take it. What you did there is a good way to get shot, stabbed, or beaten." I point out. I'd once seen a pony get stabbed with a rusty screwdriver for taking someone else's empty tin can. "We're a little sensitive about that down here."

She nods and continues to down the beans in a manner more akin to shoveling than eating. Enclave must not be big on manners in general.

"Supplies are always shared, supplies are always divided. Our drill instructors pounded that into us in basic. Down here I assume it is different?" She goes back to seeking out and consuming every last bean in the can.

"If you're smart, you help yourself first and second, your friends third, and the helpless if it's not too inconvenient." I say as I start to dig into my own can of beans. I'd give my left nut to come across another bottle of hot sauce to add some spice to this."You lean fairly quick that ain't nopony gonna be looking out for your best interests."

"So why are you helping me?" She asks before she buries her muzzle into the can to lap up any of the last remnants of bean juice she could find.

"Maybe helping you is helping myself, it's easier to survive out here if you're with someone else. Or maybe I'm just not a smart pony." I give her a grin as I continue to chow down, a bit more gracefully than the pegasus, on my breakfast. Needs bacon, just a bit for flavoring.

Cloud Swimmer gives the smoldering campfire a long contemplative look and then turns to me. "I apologize for losing control last night, yesterday was ... difficult."

"Don't worry about it, I'd rather it happen here than in the middle of raider ambush. It happens to all of us at one point or another." I scoop another spoonfull of beans into my muzzle. "So, yesterday still Enclave business?"

"Yes"

"So, where exactly are we heading?" The pegasus asks and we trot down the highway.

"A little trading post called Crossroads. It's a watering hole for all the traders goin' to and from Manehatten, Fillydelphia, Appleoosa and the scattered towns and villages bordering the Everfree. Nice enough place, but the guards don't take no shit."

"How will they react to me?"

I shrug my shoulders "I don't rightly know, just keep you wings tucked up beside you and say you're an earth pony that scavenged that armor off a dead pegasus." I hope they buy that, but I know they're not that dumb.

Cloud stops, and I hear the whine of the capacitors in her rifles charge.

"Contacts on the horizon." She calls out. I look over to where she was looking and notice a wagon hitched to one pony and another escorting it. I rummage in my bags to grab a spare rifle scope I had to get a better look, but the pegasus called them out before I could even find it.

"Earth ponies, mare is pulling the cart, buck is armed with a self-loading rifle in a shooting saddle." She sounds like a Steel Ranger with a stick up her ass.

"Assault rifle, nopony calls the damn things 'self-loading rifles.'" I corrected her. "And they're probably just traders."

The buck lets out a loud whoop and I return the same as we approached each other. I recognized the pair.The mare, Close Stitch, ran a small shop in Crossroads that made and sold leather goods; she made the cases for my scopes, a holster for my pistol and many other odds and ends I had hidden on me. The buck is her son, Needlepoint. A decent young stallion that never gave anypony any trouble; he got none in return due to his size.

"Long Shot is that you? I didn't recognize you with your new hat." Close says as we got close.

"Got it off a raider, if I recall he was reluctant to part with it."

"So, the highway is safe then?" Needlepoint asks. The buck's never been one to beat around the bush.

"Up until the hospital at least. They got another caravan coming up from Filly before I got to em. I didn't recognize the wagon."

Close Stitch and Needlepoint's faces both drop.

"That might have been Snap Cap's wagon, we were expecting a shipment of tools from him around yesterday." The mare turns her attention to the pegasus. "And who's this, you picking up strays now?"

I cut Cloud Swimmer off before she could answer "Her name's Sleet, she's a Dashite" I lied. I just hope Cloud's smart enough to follow.

"Yes, Long Shot offered me assistance after I was shot down." Every lie needs about eighty present truth, I love it.

Close Stitch studied the pegasus for a moment with a skeptical look. "Right. I got a cloak that will hide her armor, also got a set of fresh saddle bags I made this morning for a client in Filly, but I can always make another on the way." Odd that she's heading to Filly, but getting that armored covered up would go a long way to making sure we ain't too bothered in town.

I pull out Small Fry's shotgun from my saddlebags and held it out to the mare. "Two healing potions, your best cloak, the saddlebags you were talking about and your discretion about my Dashite friend here." I nod towards Cloud. "Also, why are y'all leaving Crossroads?" The gun was worth much more than that, but something felt off about an established shopkeep and her only family skipping town down a road that may have still had heavy raider activity. And she's done well by me in the past, I don't mind paying a bit more for honest dealing.

Close Stitch takes the shotgun and looks it over, working the action and trying to see if there was anything obviously wrong with it. She looks at me and raises an eyebrow, then hoofs the weapon over to her son.

“Get him what he wants.” She tells him and then turns back to me. “I would have told you why free of charge, you know that.” She grins knowing she got a hell of a deal. “About a dozen folks came into town last afternoon, all of them well armed, but peaceful enough. Half of them looked fresh out of stable, looking around studying things like they ain't never seen them before, and far too clean. The other half looked just the opposite, like someone cleaned up a bunch of raiders and put them on a leash, the stable ponies look to be holdin’ the other end of it. Add to that the towns up north going quite; I packed up and left, heading to Filly. My gut said to move, and I’m moving.”

“Thanks. Celestia light your path." I say to her not wanting to hold her up anymore.

“And Luna protect you and yours.” She nods to the pegasus who was receiving my purchase from Needlepoint. “Come on boy, we're burning daylight.”

With that we part ways.

Cloud wastes no time donning the cloak. The scorpion like tail of her armor folded up to become more compact under the cloth. The faceplate of the hemet lifts and was well hidden under the hood. You could still tell she had a battle saddle or something under there, but it wasn't painfully obvious anymore. Once she got here saddlebags on she turned to me.

“Towns going silent in the north?” She asks as we start walking again.

“Started happening a few months ago, towns around the Everfree Forest just start disappearing, burned with nothing of value left behind. Few folk went up there to investigate, fewer came back. All of them said they found tracks in, out and around of the towns, a lot of ponies.” Too many ponies if I believe the reports. “Not many bodies though, not enough to account for all that are missing. Even raiders up there are spooked, moving south. That group you landed in was likely from up there.”

“What do you think it is?” She asks.

“Too many to be Steel Rangers, and their work is less clean, same with raiders. Ghouls from Canterlot finally coming down? Starbeasts? Hellhounds? Last bastion of the Zebra Empire? I haven’t a clue.” But my gut tell me these dozen ponies that wandered into town might know something. I’d very much like to meet them. Crossroads should be only a couple of more hours of walking from here, so I’ll get to ask soon enough. "I'm going to try and find out a bit more when we get to town. Come on , Close Stitch is right, we're burnin' daylight."

“Long Shot.” Cloud Swimmer said after a few minutes.

I glance at the pegasus.

“I am not a fucking Dashite.”

Chapter 3: Crossroads (old)

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Long Shot

Crossroads started off as a little shanty town underneath the interchange of the highways coming in from Manehatten, Fillydelphia and Canterlot. It was a place for folks to get out of the rain and seek higher ground from those that preyed on the weak. Not much in the way of pre-war buildings, a few convenience stores and the like, but with each passing year more and more ponies passed through the town, bringing building materials to set up shop in this new hub of trade. Before long it was a full fledged town with an inn, a bar, even a whore house. A wall went up when raiders became a problem, and a town guard always kept watch and made sure everything was going as peacefully as possible.

“State your business.” A guard, brown unicorn buck, calls out from atop the wall.

“Collectin’ a bounty, and getin’ something to drink.” I reply. I’ve done this song and dance with this guard for over a year, one would think the bastard would remember my by now.

“What about him.” He flicks his muzzle over to Cloud Swimmer.

“She’s with me.”

He studies me for a moment. “Alright.” He looks down at somepony behind the gate. “Open it up.”

A loud clank was heard a moment later and a small door opened into the town, just large enough for one pony at a time to enter. The guard working the gate, a pink mare in a comically over-sized helmet goes over the rules, like she has with me dozens of times before. Don’t attack anyone within sight of the town, defend yourself if you must, and don’t cause any trouble. If you don’t know what trouble is, the guard is more than happy to tell you. We both acknowledge the laws and head into town.

“Where are we going first?” Cloud asks me as she takes in all the sights, sounds and horrible smells of a wasteland town.

“The Bar. I’m hungry and I’m thirsty.”

The Bar is only two story building in town. First floor is the bar, and the second is the inn. It spaciest enough to hold damn near the whole town if you threw a party big enough, and often has to because there was little to do, other than the whores, after dark. It’s early afternoon, so the crowd is likely to be light.

I walk in and immediately notice unfamiliar faces, four of them at a table to the left of the door. Three of them are clean, well armed stable ponies; two laser rifles and a pump shotgun. The last one is a heavily scarred earth pony buck with a powder blue coat and shit brown eyes, armed with a straight-bolt rifle. Sky. I've had him in my sights before, when I was over watch during a ransom delivery near Ponyville. Strange of him to be showing up in civilization.

There are five others in the bar. Two locals, unarmed, at the bar being served by the bartender, sawed-off shotgun under the counter, and owner of The Bar, the unicorn ghoul Tumbler. The last two sat at a poorly lit table in far corner of the bar. Both figures, one pony, a buck, and a female griffon both are out of sight enough that I can't tell exactly who they are. But if they are who I think they are, then that means the four at my left are also who I think they are. Fuck me sideways.

“Hey Tumbler, can you get us a couple bowls of stew and some drinks.” I say as I walk up the bar and unhook the damned heavy barrel for my gun from my saddle pack and lean it against the counter. Cloud and I both take a seat.

"Cozy" She comments.

“You take care of them raiders out past the hospital?” The ghoul asks, his voice sounds like he’s gargling hot tar.

“Eyep”

“On the house then.” He heads to the back to fetch our dinner.

Cloud turns to me and leans in to whisper. “Those ponies by the door are here to scout the town."

"What makes you say that?" I say in a much more casual tone of voice. The din of the radio is more than enough to drown out a casual conversation. Whispering tends to look like whispering and draws attention.

"Stable barding." Cloud says as she leans back to a more relaxed posture.

We pause our conversation when Tumbler returns two big cans of hearty stew and two bottle of apple cider. The current batch of cider wasn't great, guess the 170 or so year vintage doesn't help the flavor; but it's better than swamp water.

"That style of barding is not exactly rare out here, quite a few stable ponies and their kids are running around causin' trouble. And from how squeaky clean they are I'd imagine they are from one. " She knows something, I can feel it. I would say the serious look on her face had me worried, but honestly I don't think I've seen her without it.

"Look, trust me on this. We need to leave town as soon as possible." Well I can add worried to her list of expressions. It looks like serious, only her eyes go a bit wider. Now I was more than reasonably sure we should take her advice, towns disappearing and fair share of ponies going missing is enough to make anyone a mite skittish. However, there was still the question of who they were and why they have the interest of my two acquaintances in the back of the bar. I'm not the type of pony to just run and hide from a threat, I need to observe it, understand it, then run for the fucking hills if it's something bigger than I can handle.

I spoon some stew into my muzzle, too much bloat sprite meat for my taste and needs more salt. But what do you expect from somepony who hasn't been able to taste anything the Great War.

"I don't disagree." I I say after swallowing another spoonful. "But I still want to know who they are and dangerous they can be."

"They are beyond dangerous, that is all I know."

"You know more than that."

She swallowed another mouthful of the stew; I wonder if she knows it has meat in it. "What I know is that they could connected to the disappearing towns near the Everfree, and if they are here it does not bode well for anypony here."

"But, you never say how you know."

We ate in silence after that, listening in on the jovial conversation being had behind us.

In the next half-hour the two locals at the bar were joined by a third and another pony joined the group at the table, I didn't get good look at him. Cloud Swimmer put her head down in her forehooves, face-plate down, hidden by the hood of her cloak. I was about the finish off my second cider when somepony sat down right next to me, automatic pistol in a shoulder holster.

"Mind if I buy the next round?" The red earth pony offers. His voice is as smooth as glass; so smooth I almost miss the black cloth that covers his right eye. His mane is jet black, and well groomed; if he had both eyes would be the spitting image of what I though some sleazy salespony would look like from the Old World. His body language just screams friendly, from the genuine smile to the gentle look in his remaining blue eye. I was immediately on edge. If somepony is this friendly it means they want something, and they rarely ask politely more than a few times. I really should have been shooting up red flags anyway, given that he was wearing the same stable barding as those at the table. Stable 101, not a stable I'm familiar with. That raises more red flags.

I don't let any of this worry show; appearances, or lack there of, are everything. "Sure, but, before you get ahead of yourself, my barn door don't swing that way."

He chuckles. "I'm actually more interested in this rifle of yours." He nudges my rifle barrel with a hind hoof. "I'm Eveready by the way." holding out a hoof.

I shake it "Long Shot."

"And your well cloaked friend?"

"Stew Can. She's had a long day, and I rather not wake her." She's awake. She snores quietly when she sleeps.

"I understand. So, any good with that?" Eveready nods to the barrel.

"I hit what I'm aiming at most of time."

Tumbler trots up to check on us. Eveready orders us a round and turns back to me.

"The way I hear it is that you have quite a reputation around town as a scout and sharpshooter; and I am in desperate needs of both. You will be compensated handsomely for you work."

"And what would I be scouting or shooting? You folks are well armed enough to roam just about anywhere you please."

"Does it matter?" Asks the red buck as Tumber returns with the drinks, then heads down the bar to check out the locals.

"Well, if you're beating around the bush about it, then I'd say it does." I don't like this stallion. He's too slick and too clean for his own good. The fact one of his cronies got up from the table and was not standing behind Cloud did little to improve my opinion of him.

"Get the fuck out of my seat." Sky said as he tried to push the pegasus off her stool by yanking her around the middle with one hoof. He tried anyway, but this particular pegasus is in Enclave power armor. She slammed his head into the edge of the bar, hard. I think I heard something crack. He weakly rolled around on the floor, clutching his head. Cloud relieved him of his rifle, placed it on the bar, pointing at at Eveready, and sat down back down. At some point she also managed to get her face-plate back up so no one else become any wiser to my companions armor save for the broken buck on the floor.

I heard the remain three ponies get up and ready their weapons. The locals ran out of the bar as fast as their hooves could take them. Tumbler just continued to polish a glass clean.

"I told you I didn't want to wake her." I say to no one in particular and take a swig of the cider the red Stallion just bought me. I look over to Eveready . "I imagine he was the bad cop to your good?"

"Something like that." His tone went from friendly to neutral. There is the bastard that I knew was hiding under that welcoming exterior.

One of the three stable ponies behind up trots up and shoves a potion down Sky's throat. He coughs and gets up, small bit of blood trickled from a healing cut on his brow and from his ear.

"That bitch is wearing armor!" He says as he stumbles back, I imagine he can hardly see straight after a blow like that, healing potion or no.

"Thank you Bluebelle, that will be all." Eveready said, dismissing the sky blue buck. "I'll make this quick since the local guard will be interrupting our conversation soon. I want you and those you work for, you siblings in arms. I can make it worth your time." He drops a good sized sack of caps on the bar in front of me "Travel the road north before sunset if you accept." He got off the stool back to his companions. Then they left, escorted out of town by the guard.

"What did he mean you siblings in arms?" Cloud asked after Eveready and his ponies left.

So, he know about Stable 78. That's not good.

I get and grab my rifle barrel march over to the two that were still sitting in the back of the bar. Cloud follows me with a rather confused look on her face. The Gryphon spoke before I could.

"Do you even know how to say out of trouble?" Her voice is motherly and calm. She's covered head to tail in dull brown cloth, some areas it's tightly wrapped around her, like on her claws, on others more loose and flowing. A loose hood covered her head, leaving only the dark brown feathers of her face and purple eye shadow exposed.

"Fuck you Grin! What do they know?" I yell at her. I'm in no mood for pleasantries, I want to know how they know about 78.

"We were hoping you would tell us." The buck says. He's older, in his fifties, with a midnight blue coat like mine, but with short cut blood red mane.

"At the very least he knows about the Dragoons, so he likely knows about the Stable as well." I say.

"Stable? Number 78?" Cloud asks.

The shotgun across the bucks back flew into action as his magic manipulates the weapon, it came to rest right under the pegasus' chin. "And how do you know that?" The red maned buck asks low and dangerously.

"Scatter Shot, ease off." The Grin says as she puts a claw on his shoulder. "How do you know of Stable 78?" She asks Cloud. "Be honest, because he will shoot you."

Cloud Swimmer to her credit looks more annoyed than frightened. She takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I am First Lieutenant Cloud Swimmer of the Grand Pegasus Enclave. Service Number: 7768V-57AS. I'm a part of a unit called The Hunters. We are the last resort in maintaining the sky quarantine. Our last mission ended in disaster, a captain in the Everfree patrol was making regular trips to the deck. We were charged with taking him out, didn't count on the whole platoon to defend him. We tried to flee,but as far as I know I'm the only one to escape."

"Any of this coming to a point?" Scatter Shot growled out.

"I'm a communications specialist, I remotely hacked the information systems built into their armor, and I've had the past few days to go over the information I jacked. Stable 78 came up more than once, it said it's a military stable."

"You tell them about all that five minutes after meeting them, but you didn't tell me any of it after the better part of two days?" I'm more than a little annoyed with her.

"You didn't have a gun to my head when you asked."

"I'll try that next time." I let out a deep sigh. "Do you know what they were planning to do with this intelligence?"

"Or how they got it?" Grin adds.

"No, but it also had details on two other Stables as well; 93 and 101. 93 is near the Ironshod Firearms factory, it was designed to fail, and was abandoned almost fifty years ago according to somepony's report. 101 is alive and well, advanced medical tech and a social experiment based around something called 'The Earth Pony Way.'"

Scatter Shot holsters his shotgun. "And damn near half of those ponies with that slick one eyed son of a bitch were wearing 101's barding."

"Save for Sky, or rather Bluebelle, he's just some two bit raider from up north.”

“And a few other of his ilk were around town as well.” Grin says.

I nod and a short silence fell over us. I was soon broken by an inquiry from Cloud Swimmer.

“If I may, who are you all?”

I guess I better make introductions. “This…” gesturing to the gryphon “... is Gimila Bloodfeathers, or Grin; and this is my father, Scatter Shot.”

"Howdy." My father says with a grin.

"Stable 78 houses the remnants of the Dragoons, a Mystery of Awesome black operations unit." Grin explained. "I'm the only original member. Scatter and Long are descendants. We maintained a small unit down there. We trained and drilled. It passed the time."

"Original member? That would make you nearly two hundred years old!" Cloud exclaimed.

"One hundred and ninety three to be exact. But..." She lifted her arm and used the other to remove some fabric revealing rainbow hued metal underneath. "...there is not much of me that is original. That was a problem I had before the balefire however."

"Yep, she's a killin' machine and toaster oven all in one." Scatter Shot jokes, not one I think Grin appreciates.

“We need to get back to Shard and head to 78.” Grin declares. Then she turns to Cloud. “And if it’s not too much trouble, I would like you to come as well.”

Cloud nods, face stoic as ever.

My expression however was wide eyed shock.“Grin, I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Did you just say ‘get back to Shard’?”

“I did” she says calmly.

“As in my psychotic ex-marefriend Shard?”

“The same.”

Fuck me with land mine.

“Long, you got a way out of this town that doesn't involve the front door?” Scatter Shot asks.

I sigh. I really do not want to meet up with my crazy, knife wielding, overpowered unicorn of an ex-marefriend. But, duty calls. I turn around and yell out at Tumbler. “Yo Tumbler, that back door of yours still open?”

I swear I heard Cloud snicker a bit.

Fallout Equestria: Long Shots

by Ocean Mist

Long Shots: Redux (One Shot Version)

Chapter 1: Fallen. (old)

Chapter 2: Signs (old)

Chapter 3: Crossroads (old)