> Fallout Equestria: The Lost memory orbs of Moon Scalpel > by Evil_Spike > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Introduction > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- War. War changes everything. It takes the world to places that it should never encounter, makes you think thoughts that should never be considered, makes you perform acts that should never be done. War changed everything about Equestria. It not only changed the general landscape, but also the emotions and hardships that us regular ponies had to face up to. But I doubt you give a crap about any of that, do you? The sufferance we went through, the ideals we thought over, the hardships we encountered, the laughs that we had, the lives we lost. You just want to hear a boring and supposedly "unbiased" rendition about the “superb” job the ministry mares were meant to be doing before the bombs were dropped. Am I right? If so, then fuck you. I'm not a fucking history book. And besides, if I were to recount everything that happened during the war in an unbiased way, I would be here for years, which seems strange, considering you're hearing all of this through my memory orb. Not only that, but most of those egghead books that tell about the war when anypony sees this will probably only make reference to all the poor innocents who lost their lives, not mentioning the torment they underwent, not mentioning that those people had lives. Not mentioning that ever single fucking one of them had their own story to tell. No, those sources will always tell the stories and experiences of the “important” ponies, the ponies who did absolutely nothing but sat in their offices trying to make everything right while we, the regular ponies who weren't important enough to gain an audience with them, did all the bloody work (Well, except for the Ministry of Awesome, who actually gave a crap and showed it by fighting alongside us for "the greater good"). We sacrificed our lives for those ponies who did next to nothing to help. Especially those aristocrats. Fucking pussies. I want to remedy that. I want to make sure our stories are told, and told properly, even though nopony will probably give a shit about those stories in due time. I'm sorry, I should probably introduce myself and stop ranting, before you stop listening. My name is Moon Scalpel. This is the story of my squad, my friends and my life during the great war for Equestria. > Prologue to Moon Scalpel's beginning > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sorry I was sounding like such a prick earlier. Usually I don't say anything bad about anypony. Usually I maintain an aura of calm and forgiveness about me that carries over to my environment. It's just that, with this war and everything that has happened to me in the past, it felt like I needed a chance to vent some of my emotion, vent my sadness at those who died unjustly for the “righteous cause”. It gave me a chance to vent my anger at those ponies who sent us to our death. Sorry, starting to rant again. These sorts of things just make me so annoyed at the little things in life, at all the shit that went down. Ok, deep, calming, breath. “Sigh”. Ok, now I feel better. So, ok, getting back to things. As you already know, my name is Moon-Scalpel. I suppose I should say a little something about my background, my history, my life before everything went to shit due to the war. Ok, here goes. Well, I was born into a relatively well off family in a town on the border between Applewood and the San Palamino Desert. Celestia's sake, what was it called again? Marechester. Yeah, that sounds about right. I was raised with two very supporting family, yet no siblings. Maybe that's the reason I was so reserved as a little colt, the fact I had nopony to talk to outside of my parents and the other little fillies and colts that surrounded the park I walked around every other day. Ah yes, that park. So many things to entrance a young colt. From the wonders of the swings (which I never saw a Pegasus pony use for other reasons) to the various trees we used to play “Hide-and-seek” around. Oh god, I'm rambling again. Actually, that's one of the things my few friends noticed about me when I was at Magic Kindergarten and school. I always seemed to gazing off out into space and not focussing on what was being said by the teacher. It wasn't like I wasn't listening to our teacher, even though she could bore us to death within 10 minutes of our class starting. No, I actually showed a fair amount of tenacity in my studies, particularly when it came to medicine and helping other ponies get better. I suppose that came from my mum, she had been a nurse at the local hospital and, though it never permitted me to get a day off from school, it did mean that I was able to see a lot of gory pictures as a little colt and permitted an almost perverse interest in Equine Biology. This was to the point where my parents were pretty much eventually forced to take me out of my normal school after I almost performed a surgical vasectomy (please don't ask me to go into further detail. Let's just say that I was a weird kid and leave it at that) on a fellow classmate and attempted to enrol me into Princess Celestia's school for Talented Unicorn. This effort actually did pay off as, after an extremely taxing entrance exam involving showing the proper way to perform open-heart surgery using only a blunt knife and a teatowel, I was permitted entry into the school and gained my cutie mark on the same day, two needles across a red-cross. I have never seen my parents look more proud of me. Thinking back, that may have been an odd thing to be proud of, as they didn't seem to be particularly impressed when I... well, I said I would never speak of that day on the playground again, and I don't want to bore you with specifics. Back to something you might actually care about. The school was unlike anything I had ever experienced, but even at the school, I didn't really have many proper companions. It looks like my shyness has always followed me and negated the effects of any social interaction that I attempted. I think my only true friends were my little baby dragon assistant, Regulus, and a filly by the name of Dusk Star. God, she was pretty. Dusk Star that is, not Regulus. I mean, he may have been kind of handsome to other dragons, but I was never interested in... um, where was I again? Oh yeah, describing Dusk. Well, she was a pretty pink unicorn with a lovely silvery white mane. Man, I really liked that mane. It shimmered under the moonlight and made her look so beautiful. Of course there were other unicorn fillies at the school, most notably the Princesses favourite pupil, Twilight Sparkle. It was always annoying being upstaged by that filly. Though she could be nice, she was also a little, well, stuck up. Like she realised that she was Celestia's favourite student. It made you sick. Well, eventually I managed to graduate from the school for gifted unicorns with an offer to Canterlot University to study medicine in one hoof, the other around my new marefriend, Dusk. Turns out she was also going to the university to study history and pony archaeology, a fine field. We both graduated top of our classes and moved to Ponyville together to pursue our dreams together as a married couple. That's where I met Bit-Torrent, but I'll describe her a little bit later. Right now, I just want to establish why I'm doing this memory orb recollection. Soon after moving to Ponyville, we had a filly who we named Dusk Scalpel. I know, imaginative naming. Well, it turns out that she possessed a bit of skill in magic herself, obviously garnered from us two. So we sent her along to Princess Luna's newly established school in Littlehorn. She was so proud to be going to that school. As were we, for that matter. Two loving parents who could not be prouder of the fact that she was one of the first students to go to the Princesses new school. My wife accompanied her on the long trip to Littlehorn just to be part of that first day. I would've also been there, but for a medical emergency at Ponyville hospital that happened the day we were meant to leave for the journey. I'm not sure if my choice was a good thing or a bad thing, for they arrived the day of the Littlehorn Massacre. It was also, coincidentally, the day I met Bit-Torrent. I still have nightmares of what they experienced. I still remember the awful drop in my gut when I realised that they were both gone forever. My little filly, the apple of my eye and the most important child in my life. My wife, the astonishingly beautiful mare who made it worth my rise in the morning, the mare who made my smile even wider than anything Pinkie Pie could ever manage. Gone forever. The massacre may have made me extremely depressed, but it also created anger in my heart. It was mainly focussed at the zebra's, but a little was also blamed at Celestia and Luna. WHY had they not given more protection to the school? Did they not care about the fillies and colts who had suffered under the hands of the zebras? The ones who had been tortured, raped and mutilated for their own sick amusement? This got to me most of all. So when they started asking for military medical officers and doctor's, I was one of the first to put my hand up. After all, I had lost everything I had ever loved. How could my emotional state become much worse? I just had to ask myself that question, didn't I? Author's note Big thanks to Daniel "Twixie Sparkle" Scott for helping me to come up with the story and KKat for designing the Fallout Equestria universe. You both ROCK! Woohoo! > Arc 1, Chapter 1: It Begins > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was late evening when the squad was called to attention. I had been sitting on a low lying wall, staring out over the horizon of the desert, wondering why they had bothered to put me into such a low lying squad of the overall military when Bit-Torrent approached me and put a hoof on my shoulder. “You doing ok, dude?” She asked, with a calm expression slightly diminished by the weird goggles that she had on. She was a cute little green pony. Not as lovely to look at as my wife and daughter, but still among one of the better lookers in the military. Not that that's saying much, seeing as how there were barely any mares in the military in the first place, let alone Mares with tech goggles permanently strapped to her face. Still, that was the way I had first come into contact with that strange pony. Apparently she had been doing some private military work for a government agency to which she been told never to speak of to another soul (I suspected it was probably illegal and For Here Eyes Only level of secrecy) when something had gone badly and she was wheeled into Ponyville hospital slightly smouldering and with several broken ribs and a brain hemorrage. It took all of the surgery departments supply of Hydra and healing potions to ward off the possibility of her slipping into a coma, as well as the skill of not just myself, but several brain surgeons who had teleported in from Canterlot to Ponyville to keep her brain from swelling to the point of explosion. Several times, we almost lost her, the damage was that severe. “Yeah”, I said back, still not removing my gaze from the setting sun, which by this stage of the sunset had turned the sky into an orangey-red hue, similar to the sunsets I had seen as a colt. “Just reminded myself of what happened.” “Are you still thinking of that? It's been, like, two weeks since the funeral. Shouldn't you have gotten over her?” I looked angrily over at her. “It's not just me who lost loved ones to those bastards, Bit, ” I snapped back. “We lost some of the greatest hopes for the survival of ponykind due to their cowardly attack. Most of us are still in mourning.” “Ok, ok. Sorry for bringing it up. Geez, I didn't think it was that big a deal”. “It wasn't so much the event itself that hurt Moon”, a soft voice said behind me. “It was the way it was carried out”. Clydes-Dale had just come over to my resting point and was leaning against the sentry tower, looking relaxed, though with his usual slightly crestfallen expression, as though he had already resigned himself to some horrible fate which may have been forthcoming. He was the youngest of the squad, yet still represented the massive tank of the group. With deep blue eyes, the large burgundy stallion had been one of the first ponies I had come across since joining the military and had been the first pony that had been introduced to me at Boot-camp, besides Bit-Torrent, obviously. I had noted his resemblence to Big Macintosh, a good friend of mine from Ponyville, and had asked a few days after meeting him if he had come across the large workhouse in his relatively short life, to which he smiled sadly at me and replied “Nope, never heard of him in my life. Why do you ask?” “Completely agree there, Clydes,” I said, turning my head to face my companions for the first time since I had come to sit on that rock. “Ayep,” he continued. “Bit, don't be such a stuck up jerk to Moon. The whole nation is still in mourning over that massacre. Moon has every right to be upset over what they did there. Even more, considering how much he lost”. I sniffed, remembering the hard memories of that radio report I heard that night, not to mention the shock and horror I faced when I saw those two police ponies knock on my door to deliver the news which I new was coming back was still unprepared for. “Thanks, Clyde. Glad SOMEPONY understands the pain I'm going through”. He looked at the ground slightly sheepishly. “Fuck those Zebra's,” a curt, slightly snobbish and unwelcome voice said out of the growing paleness of the sunset. Everypony turned around, and I groaned inwardly. “Oh hello Night-shade,” I replied with barely disguised contempt for the noble approaching our group. “What the fuck are you whining about now?” Bit-Torrent asked him, the disgust ringing in her voice like she had just seen a toilet seat with the seat up. Night-Shade had been consider to be one of the “upper-class” of Equestria due to the fact that he was a relative of Prince Blueblood, and he sure reminded us of that fact a hell of a lot, even though he was merely a 2nd nephew of his. As such, the snobbish purple stallion was generally th most hated among us, as Bit-Torrent was always quick to affirm. “If it hadn't been for those Zebra's,” he continued, as if there had been no interruption, “No war would've started. If no war had started, then I wouldn't have had to demean myself to a commoner. I thought that we royals were not included in the conscription draw”. “For the last time, Night, you're not a true member of the royal family. You're the 2nd nephew of the most annoying Prince in the last 50 years. So shut the fuck up,” Bit-Torrent retorted. “Hey, hey.” I said to Bit-Torrent. “No need to insult the poor guy”. It wasn't like I was a huge fan of Blueblood or Nightshade to be defending him like this. It was more the fact that I didn't want to see arguments breaking out between everypony before our first mission had even been assigned to us by our commanding officer. “I wasn't insulting him,” Bit-Torrent replied matter-of factly. “I was just...” “Putting him back in his place”, Regulus stated categorically, moving up to be right next to me. “Yeah, yeah. We've all heard it before Bit-Torrent. You don't have to keep repeating yourself”. The little dragon sure had grown ever since he had been handed to me by Princess celestia all those years, though it had only been a few weeks since his wings had started developing properly. Still at a young age for a dragon though, the little blue spined, red-bodied dragon barely rose higher than my own body height, something that was apparently highly hilarious to Nightshade. Often when this happened, I was the one reprimanding the bloody “prince”, as I was a fuck ton more loyal to my little dragon assistant and best friend compared to, as he put it, a “full blood royal”. “Anyway,” Regulus continued matter-of-factly “General Johnson wants to see you all. Says he has our first assignment”. “FINALLY,” Bit-Torrent shouted, flush with excitement. “So, what are we doing? Taking down a zebra encampment? Infiltrating the Caesar's palace? Oh please tell me we'll at least be able to kill some Zebra or pony traitor” “That's highly unlikely, Bit,” Clydesdale replied. “More likely, we'll be just on patrol duty around this base until the general can think of a reason to move us onto a different camp.” “Besides,” I said straight to her, with slight tears in my eyes, thinking of how many times I had “pulled the plug” on older stallions and Mares in Ponyville and Canterlot Hospital “You have no idea how difficult it to take another ponies life”. “Well, we won't have any idea till we go see him. So let's do that”. Regulus said “Ayep,” Clydesdale agreed. Thus we turned away from the setting sun and headed back to camp, unaware that this would be the last time we ever spent any time healthily together in this camp. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Keep in mind this is the unedited version of this chapter. I'm hoping to have it edited within the next few days and hopefully when it is ready you will see it in all its glory. I'm merely publishing so you can get an idea of who the characters are. Once again, special thanks to TwixieSparkle for the original concept, KKat for creating the Fallout Equestria universe, members of the BAU forum for acting as intermediaries to my fic, any editors who will give me advice, and finally, YOU, for even bothering to read this. Thank you all. > Arc 1, Chapter 1: The Assignment > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As we entered the tent of the commander, the first thing we noticed was how large it was compared to our small, shitty location that we had been calling “home” for the past few weeks. Everything felt much more advanced in comparison, with a bit more in the way of tech from the MWT and MAS. Heck, there was even somehow room for a desk, which our commander was now sat behind. He was a large stallion, looking very regal and respectable behind that desk. That look, though, we knew was nothing like what he was actually like. A more appropriate way to describe this guy, was, to be perfectly blunt, as an asshole. “Col. Blowhard” was how we often referred to him, not without good reason either. Most of the time, this fat bastard of an Earth Pony treated the recruits like they weren’t worth the dirt beneath his feet. Multiple counts of abuse had been raised at him, not only by the ponies who had been forced to endure him through boot camp, such as myself and Bit Torrent, where this sort of stuff was considered the norm, but also those ponies who had the unlucky event of gaining him as their colonel, such as the latest members of our squadron, Regulus, Clydes-Dale and Night-Shade. I still didn’t think that Night-Shade should ever have been allowed near our platoon at this point. Hell, I’m surprised that Blueblood even allowed one of relations to go near such a brutish military enforcement such as this without a severe amount of paperwork and the singular word from the Ministers that he should never, EVER, be allowed near a combat situation. However, there had been rumours that something had happened years ago between the Minister of Image and Blueblood and that was why Night-Shade had been forced to join the lowest rank. Maybe it was just the luck of the draw that he had ended up with us. And maybe it was just that Celestia and Luna didn’t want to treat anypony better or worse than another. I guess that’s for somepony else to decide. Anyway, back to the assignment at hand. Colonel Blowhard, I mean, um, Colonel Johnson stood up behind his desk and looked over us. His mass kind of reminded me of Big Macintosh back home. I heard that Mac had been assigned to the military as well, but I guess I wouldn’t see him. He was normal military, we were the shit stealth guys. Johnson looked at us like we were pieces of manure that should only be applied to gardens whenever possible, and began to speak to us in the bluntest possible way. “Alright you idiots,” he started, with a voice gravelly from what seemed to be a combination of cigarettes and yelling at other recruits. “I want to make this quick. I have other recruits to inform of their tasks and to get back to working with MWT advisors. I hate having to deal with you bastards who can’t even hold a gun properly, nor those yellow-bellied not to fire when told”. “Actually, Great Auntie Celestia...” Night-Shade started. “Can it. I don’t want to hear about Celestia. She’s already got us into enough shit with these zebras to last us a few months. I don’t want to hear bitching from somepony claiming to be related to her who doesn’t even know how to fight. “Yes sir. I was just saying...” Night-Shade stammered, but Johnson continued as though there had been no interruption. “Anyway, there’s a Zebra encampment a couple of miles of here. I need you fat asses to get out there, scope it out and report back what you see there. If possible, take out the blacks while out there. Any questions?” “Uh, yeah.” Regulus stated. “Why us” “Why you? Simple. You guys are the ones I want to see gone quickest. It would slightly help us if you got through this, but mainly I just want you out of the way of the ponies who can actually do stuff. Got that? Your expendable! Now, any other stupid questions?” “One other thing,” Clydes started slowly, in that methodical voice of his. “Yeah, what” “What are we being given to perform this mission” “What you have on you right now is fine” “WHAT?!” I yelled, before I could stop myself. “But sir...” “But nothing, Scalpel. You go in light, you go in quiet and you scout. That’s it.” “But what if one of us get’s injured, or we find ourselves in a firefight?” He thought about that for a minute. “Fine. Go and talk to the combat guys. You can have a pistol each. Scalpel, you can have one medkit, but that’s it.” “But sir...” “That’s all you fucking deserve, you insolent piece of crap. Besides, there’s a way-lay point on the path just outside the Zebra encampment where you can pick up more supplies if you need them. Now is there anything else, or do I have to throw you out myself?” Looking at him, I didn’t doubt that he could do just that with no real difficulty. Slowly, I shook my head. “Good. Now bugger off”. We slowly shuffled out of the office. As we walked towards the gun tent, I reflected on my life and why they had placed me around here. Sure, Bit-Torrent had put in a good word for me to stay with her squadron, but I felt like I was being misused. Surely they could’ve used me back home for when the soldiers needed major surgery. But hey, at least I could be of some use, I thought to myself as I delicately placed one medkit into my saddlebag, as well as surreptitiously slipping a few more bandages than I was allowed while Clydes-Dale argued with another commander about how many bullets he was allowed as backup ammunition. Even though I didn’t realise it at the time, this mission would go on to sort out possibly the most important future aspects of my life. Some of which would break me forever.