Fallout: Equestria - Occupational Hazards Pg. 19



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Fallout: Equestria - Occupational Hazards Pg. 19 - by the-furry-railfan Submission information:

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Fallout Equestria Occupational Hazards fanfic pegasus Twintails Featherweight Buzzy Turnpike gun runners gay relationship brooding hot stallion 20mm auto cannon machine gun steel ponies rangers nosebleed bomb run











The frigid sunlight shone through the slats of the window blinds, managing to strike me square across my eyes as it started it's slow ascent in the east. Blinded by it, I rolled myself over, grunting and stretching, my dampened mane slightly frozen in the air and sticking to the pillowcases. Goddesses, I don't know what's worse, the fact that it was absolutely freezing cold out, or the fact that that heat lamp gave off enough to make me get all sweaty even in the freezing cold. Yeah, I ought to ask Minty how to turn that thing off before we go to sleep... damn thing getting me all hot and flustered. Stupid heat lamp.



Cricking my back and stretching, I tugged my worn barding on, having a bit of trouble with the pants - morning wood, why'd I have morning wood? I mean, I didn't even see that Balefire Egg explosion, unless... wait a tick, where was Minty? Oh, goddesses, don't tell me we actually -slept- together last night! I mean, he's a really cute stallion, but at the same time, something like that is something I'd actually kind of like to remember! Then again, he did seem concerned about getting back in touch with his coltfriend Cross-Stitch... oh, just forget it, of course nothing happened. That's right, he was looking at that memory orb when I blacked out. Peh, he probably went down to that energy weapons shop or something. Oooh, I'll give him something to consider if he blows all our caps on a big fancy new goop gun he'll never use because he'd think it wasteful, point-thirty inches of something, matter-of-fact... then he'd just scold ME for wasting ammo. Bah, screw it.



I slipped on the battle saddle and Auto-rifles - you never know, somepony might want to start a game of knifey-bullety with me in this place - and looked out the window, taking a whiff of the cold, musty air. There was that smell of cooking meat again, as well as the usual smells of sulfur, sweat, and broken bathrooms. Ew. The door clicked shut behind myself as the key and tumblers worked together, keeping most everything safe - I'm sure if Minty came back before me, he could get somepony at the front desk with a skeleton key or something. It was akin to a morning in Mooscow, except, well, with less ponies about, and with more of the gloomy sky visible. Why weren't they settled more towards the interior of what remained of the city, anyways? And why didn't they even have so much as a wall around them, with the Wasteland being what it was? And where do you get glass that's -that- clear out in the wasteland? "Ow..."



Rubbing my bruised muzzle gently, I stepped out into the open settlement that once was the Trotisk suburbs, sitting in the shadows of the remains of the large skyscrapers that still were standing after so many decades of decay. Man, it must have been especially eerie before the war, just seeing these giant, tall, collosal, vertigo-inducing... don't even think about it, you're miles away from NEAMO and Minty isn't going to strain himself by teleporting you that far just to get your pants washed. Eyes forwards and down, look at the ground, look at the shops, look at the ponies milling about.



Taking a breath, I turned my attention to the partially-restored and otherwise refurbished and re-used building fronts along the main road, groups of mares, stallions, and foals all milling about them. Shops advertised as selling armor, food, repairing barding, ice-cold drinks, room & board, medical services, potions, second-hoof weapons... say, wasn't there supposed to be a shop around here that specialized with guns or something? I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to just take a look-see, and maybe find another balefire egg or two... or five. Minty didn't need -all- of these spark batteries, did he? These damn things were still pretty heavy.



The big display above the fully-refurbished two-story corner shop made finding the place little short of a cakewalk, fancy neon lights proudly advertising 'Gun Runners' in huge glowing letters. A gust of warm air greeted me as I stepped through the door, a bell ringing above as I trotted forwards into... sweet mercy above, this was Gamma short of heaven. Rifles, machine guns, grenade launchers, grenade machine guns, anti-TANK rifles, missile launchers, rocket launchers, a Balefire Egg launcher too, all lined up on the walls neatly and held in place behind talisman-projected fields of energy. I could feel my jaw dropping in pure bewilderment, shaky on my hooves as I stepped forwards towards the stallion who sat behind the counter, fiddling with a .45-caliber submachine gun. He looked up from the gun, blinking a few times, myself still oggling all of the beautiful, pristine, wondorous weapons.



"Ah, er, is there a problem, Flash-Bang? I thought you weren't going to be back from Turnpike for a while, after Pripytrot went silent." He scratched his head, myself returning the look of confusion to the eyes behind those small glasses of his and cocking my head. Flash-Bang? Why'd he think I was that pony? He shrugged and pushed himself back from the counter, falling to his hooves and fiddling with the door behind him with his magic. "Well, as long as you're back, got an order from Effin' Bee again. All packed and ready for delivery, looks like you're going back to Turnpike again. What the hay he does with all this plastic explosive and scrap metal is beyond me... the usual payment of five hundred with ammunition, of course, for when you return." Before I could even get a word of protest out, the large pair of courier saddlebags were strung across my back, the contents jingling and clinking against each other as they shifted around. Five hundred... five hundred bottlecaps? For just carrying all this crap from here to Turnpike? Goddesses, I didn't care if he thought I was a six-legged pony with a purple polka-dotted mane and shooting stars coming out of my eyes, I'll take it! The orange mare in my head blinked, seeming a bit bewildered as I turned and trotted out of the doorway of the shop. What, too specific?



The bags hung heavy against my body, but at least left my wings free for flight - eh, that makes sense, couriers're probably mostly pegasi. Nopony else'd have the speed, or mobility options, and I'm pretty sure high explosives don't mix well with unicorn teleportation magic. Well, I mean, for unicorns that can do that... don't think I've ever seen Gamma teleport. Minty, hell, those augmentations probably would let him move the planet if he plugged straight into a reactor!... as long as he could handle the surge, anyways. For the sake of not wanting to destroy the wasteland again, let's not test that anytime soon, like, ever. I gave a good few flaps of my wings, nopony seeming to care as I lifted off and took to flight over the wasteland, some of them even giving waves as I passed over. Some towns liked pegasi, others hated them - well, the enclave, at least - with a passion... could the wasteland just make up it's mind already?



A cold wind blew against my tails, pushing myself along towards Turnpike and the delivery point. I fiddled with the radio, grimacing at the quick whine of static that blasted in my ears before it was replaced with Tom's voice. Oooh, yay, a radio concert! I turned up the volume knob, just able to pick his voice out from the static. "Gooood morning to all of you fine stallions and mares, fillies and colts, and other whatever-you-may-be out there in the N-E-W! Short for North Equestrian Wasteland, the undisputed world's largest icebox this side of the Crystal Empire..." Ah-huh, alright, so not a concert... did Hi-fi let him do this morning's broadcast or something?



"...Today's morning news reports come fresh out of Mooscow, as the caravans are back up and running in full force and the local Stable population is growing accustomed to life upstairs. Complaints of frozen flanks have been slacking off since Stable 34 was evac-ev-ev-er...relocated, yes, by a very brave pair of young stallions who, with the assistance of the gracious gryphon gatekeeper, helped lead the entire remaini-uh, population that decided to c-come... ah... right! A-anyways, um... goddesses... yanno, l-let's just put on some tunes. This is, ah... m-me signing off." Smooth save, Tom. Really smooth. An orchestral started up, followed by a full-blown public service announcement from before the war all on what to do in case fallout reached your area. Ah, well, for a place that always seemed to get fallout, it was knd of appropriate. Buh, just get Hi-fi back on...



The road was mostly clear - marked, at least - easy enough to follow from the air. I left the radio on, mostly waiting for Hi-fi to come back on for broadcast, but also actualy kind of enjoying the PSAs and Civil Service alerts. Some great performers seemed to endorse hope and allay fears about the possibility of megaspell-scaled conflict, reminding everypony about buying war bonds and local civil defense booklets. 'Do your part for Civil Defense, Support our troops on the front lines, Everypony has a place in the Ministries,' all that kind of fun nostalgia. I guess it might've made sense ages ago, but it's all just a vague, distant memory now... unfortunately.



Just as the fifth reprise of 'Wake up Equestria' played, the steel train cars of Turnpike passed underhoof, the sun high above the clouds. My wings were starting to ache - okay, maybe I'm not that great a courier - as I set down in the township, grunting and adjusting myself under the heavy bags. Effin' Bee... who in the name of Celestia was Effin' Bee? I flicked off the radio, looking around the town idly; it was sectioned off in two parts, the T-junction of the overpass acting as a sort of canopy for the shop district, with some train cars set up as residences and living areas. Ponies milled about both above and below the junction, foals playing in the snow and following behind their parents, shopkeepers and artisans showing their wares from side-layed hopper cars and out of repurposed boxcars... I never considered railcars could be used that way. Bah, look at the architecture on your own time, you've gotta find Effin' Bee.



I trotted down the main section of the town, looking side to side at the groups of ponies who all milled about. Buh, alright, no taking somepony else's courier work by accident anymore when you don't even know who you're delivering to. I tugged at the heavily loaded bags again, trotting forwards into the path of a quite massive, grey-coat blue-maned... it was him. Oh, sweet Luna above, how did I forget about -him-. I'd never seen somepony so absolutely dreamy before, the way he kept his mane trimmed short, the absolute girth of his muscular neck, those soft light-blue eyes... I stammered a bit, sitting in the snow, looking up at him as he turned to face myself, extending a black, massive hoof. "Abh... buh... uh, s-sorry..." He helped me back up onto my hooves - ooh, I think that was my back going - myself stumbling a bit with the loaded saddlebags. He pased on a light smirk, his eyes seeming to light up, patting myself on the shoulder and nodding towards the residential areas.



"Flash-bang never mentioned a brother. Name's Featherweight, or, 'F and B' if Firing Pin asks." He looked back at myself, the large parka he wore flapping idly in the breeze as I trotted alongside him, feeling a bit dwarfed by his large stature. F and B... Effin' Bee... I'm an idiot. Well, at least I found him and could make the delivery. With ponies like him around, I could imagine why this Flash-Bang was staying, though... I found myself giggling like a fool, a quick smack across the face from my left hoof rectifying that and prompting a look of confusion from the much larger stallion. I grinned and chuckled embarrasedly, looking off to the side.



"Eheh, ah, I'm Twintails, nice to meet you... oh, right, actually have a delivery for you here, fifty pounds' worth of Composition 4 and scrap." I tossed the bags up a bit, feeling my legs falter as the cargo fell back onto my back with a heavy thud. Have I mentioned I do a lot of stupid things pretty often yet? I let off a little squeak, Featherweight blinking and looking down at my stumbling self, relying on the rubber padding on my front hooves that came with the barding to hold back a scream. He chuckled with that deep, gentle voice, coming to a stop as he looked back.



"Heh, well, I can see why she didn't mention you now, not a courier, are you?" I stumbled forwards a few steps as he pulled up alongside, picking up the saddlebags off of my back and tossing them effortlessly onto his own, barely even flinching as the heavy things settled and my back stopped screaming at me. He rested a hoof around my shoulder, looking down at myself. "C'mon, I think Buzzy's got some fresh dinner cooking. You look like you could use the rest." I began trotting alongside him, returning a light smile, our breaths condensing in the frigid air as we passed by makeshift shacks and repurposed sleeping cars.



"W-well, no... honestly, I don't even know who the heck this 'Flash-Bang' pony is. The shopkeeper at Gun Runner's - ah, Firing Pin, right? He basically just tossed the packs onto my back and sent me off before I even got a word out. And, ah... Buzzy?" I looked up at him, feeling my smile fade a bit, ears falling back. Oh, ah, well, I probably should have guessed... great, feeling like a foal again, because of a hunch on a crush on somepony who probably could have any mare he wants with little more than a flick of his mane and that soft, welcoming gaze from those beautiful eyes. Featherweight chuckled, turning down a road that led off from the main intersection and to the edge of the small town.



"My little sister. Better mind yourself, she might pounce you like a cat, eheh..." Just a little sister? Well, that's a smile back on my face... not going to go ahead and assume that means he's automatically single, but that's still a smile nevertheless! "Well, if you aren't related to Flash-Bang, I guess it could be chalked up to just another wasteland coincidence. You honestly look almost exactly like her..." Well, huh. Weirder things have happened, I guess. We approached an old rail service junction, a caboose with faded and flaking paint sitting snowed in on the tracks, smoke rising from it's small chimney and bringing with it the sweet, sweet smell of juicy, warm meat. The snow around seemed to be cratered in lines, with damaged old wagons and other, um, red squelchy things filled with holes. I swear I've seen that phenomena before...



I followed Featherweight into the spacious caboose, being greeted with a mass of red and green flying at me and pouncing myself to the floor, the large rifles on my sides bumping heavily against my wing joints as momentum is a heartless bitch. Large, red-colored eyes looked down at my face, uncomfortably close I might add, as the small filly... spread her wings? Abuhwha? "I dunno Featherweight, I think you could do better'n this for a coltfriend. We c'n use him for target practice if he shoots first, right?" Points to the little filly, she managed to both make me blush and lose me entirely in the span of about ten seconds. She hovered off of myself - so THAT's why she's named Buzzy - as Featherweight took off his parka and the cargo. I got back up to my hooves, shaking my head a bit and reaching back to rub at my wings, pushing the auto-rifles about. Yeah, something tells me they weren't designed to handle inverted flight. Buzzy landed, looking up at myself inquisitively, Featherweight looking over with his... strong, meaty flanks and rippled midsection freely showing in the caboose, massive wings dripping with condensation and reeking of power and strength, elegant in their size proportionate to the massive stallion that looked over me with those soft, beautiful eyes.



"Ah, hey, um, are you alright?" He stepped forwards towards myself, everything starting to get a bit lighter-feeling as he placed his massive, strong hoof on the bottom of my chin, touching it gently to my nose and looking at it. He touched me... he touched me! There's my blood on his hoof and he touched me!! Oh sweet Luna above, could this day possibly get any better?



Why's everything gone dark?



---



There was a deep, throaty hum around myself. The frigid air bit at my wings as I peered down through the sight, hoof rested on a button. The ground passed by underneath; from this high up, even through a telescopic aim sight, equine forms were little more than blurs and dots on the ground below. The metal and glass cocoon around us rocked in the air, dull thuds hitting near us and causing the metal to ping with flak as the shells exploded nearby. Luna help us. A shell exploded right overhead, air starting to whistle through holes in the skin as we flew on, my gaze still fixed in on that crosshair in the bomb sight. A voice came up from behind me; female, exasperated, starting to freak out.



"Are you going to drop that thing or what!? We've gotta get out of here, I dunno how much more she can take!" The craft rocked with an explosion, another hole being torn in her side. It began to roll, grunts and straining coming from the mare behind me as she fought to keep us upright. "Come on, baby, keep yourself up!"



I let out a breath that condensed in the frigid air, forming a small cloud that was tossed around in the air currents that circulated throughout the cockpit. My target came into view; a large palace at the center of the city, flak batteries surrounding it and all firing upon us. Damn, that's actually impressive that they built shells that could reach us all the way up here. Shame it'll all be vaporized in about a minute. The crosshairs lined up smack in the center of the palace, a quick push of the button and sigh being the end of the first part of the run. a metallic thunk sounded as the payload fell, a sharp bank to the left getting us the hell away from what was about to happen. I looked up from the bomb sight, reaching up and pulling down the dark goggles I'd left on the top of my head, everything except for the sun taking on a deep amber hue. Everyone held their breath, waiting those agonizing seconds.



The cockpit filled with a brilliant flash, a heat pulse running through the holes in the craft as the weapon detonated. A second rumble over the engines filled all our ears, before we were rocked by the blast wave that followed, a deep metallic groaning and crunching sound being heard. The mare piloting us screamed, the craft pitching about and shaking violently around all of us. There was a constant pinging sound, followed by a gut-wrenching squelching as the body of our navigator was struck and thrown by one of the manual cables swinging up and beheading him. I scrambled up from my position in the seat, looking at the pilot mare just in time to see as her body was crushed by the control shaft smashing forwards into her, illiciting a horrible scream from her writhing self. The entire craft pitched downwards, and I was thrown against the front canopy, looking down at the planet below; deathly fires raged, and smoke billowed up, the dark, black clouds coming ever closer. A dull thudding sound could just barely be heard as the craft began to break apart under the stress, a heavy object landing against myself, seeping warm juices from the base. I turned myself around, picking up the fuzzy, warm object, staring at it with a look of horror on my face; the white coat, red eyes, teal mane and metal-coated horn...



I held Minty's severed head in front of myself as the cockpit seperated entirely from the rest of teh fuselage, plummeting towards the ground. The metal cage kept moving as the glass smashed, cutting deep into my back and driving clean through my body, tearing deep gashes in my flesh and pulling my wings apart. The metal horn seemed to glisten as it drove itself into my chest, peircing through to my lungs and fixating itself there, leaving me conscious, writhing, and unable to do anything except watch. The rest of the flaming, firey wreck followed not far behind, heading straight for myself, the cockpit screaming as it was rammed through by the fuselage, exploding with the remainder of the fuel aboard it.



There's a metaphor for something in here, somewhere.



---



I woke up with a scream, greeted with the sight of Featherweight looming over me, and Buzzy hovering idly beside. They both shared looks of surprise, staring at myself as I panted heavily, dropping my wings and slowly regaining my composure. I rubbed at my muzzle - crusty blood, hurting nose, noticeable tightness in my lower armor... smooth, Twintails. I shuffled myself to a sitting position, rubbing at my nose to clear the dried fluid from it, sniffling in the cold air. Featherweight and Buzzy both slid beside myself, Buzzy carrying some emptied healing potions in her mouth.



"You ain't gonna survive for long in this family if you pass out everytime your special somepony touches you, yanno." Somepony really ought to tell her how blunt she is sometimes. I stuttered, blushing, glancing over at Featherweight. He shared a surprised expression with myself, the faintest hints of blush coming on his cheeks, before looking down at Buzzy sternly. She trotted along the bed, looking up at both of us. "What? Inn't it obvious?"



"B-Buzzy, why don't you go check on the food. Don't pester, he's obviously got a lot to deal with as is." She eyerolled, hovering up off of the bed and moving to the door, crossing her forehooves. Featherweight took a step in her direction, and she opened up the door, letting off a huff and pausing. "Come on now, let us be." I watched the puffs of air condense infront of myself, Buzzy looking back from the doorway and puckering her lips, darting through the opened door and shutting it behind her. Featherweight glanced back at myself, clearing his throat and looking around the cabin with a light blush. "A-ah, pff, little sisters, am I right? I-I mean... eheh..." He passed on a weak grin, rubbing at the back of his head idly. I tugged at my barding a bit, easing off of the bed, looking over at him with a similar expression.



"Eh, I'm sure she's just, ah, just teasing. I mean, like, you're not... are... you?" I gnawed at my lower lip, Featherweight showing a blush on his large cheeks, letting off a gentle huff and looking out the window. A door somewhere opened and shut, hooves trotting around on the floor, the large grey-coated stallion looking down, his breath condensing on the window that opened to the wasteland beyond. I trotted up beside him slowly, hesitantly lifting a hoof up, standing there for a moment. He looked down at myself, a small flicker of a smile spreading across his face, his head gently nodding forwards.



"You're not exactly the most subtle of ponies, but I think you already knew that. C'mon, Buzzy ought to have lunch ready by now." He gently wrapped a hoof around my neck, rubbing at my mane as we stepped towards the door. Buzzy hovered up as we stepped through it, looking over at myself in confusion and rubbing her head. Featherweight continued on over to the stove, picking up a fork with a wing and picking up the juicy-smelling slab from the metal pan.



"Just got a message for you from your twin sis, apparently somepony in a tin can was spotted comin' out of your room in Trotisk last night, carryin' Sugar Rush's twin brother. You know anything about that?" I stalled, blinking a few times, trying to comprehend. Twin sister? Twin brother? But, only Minty was with me last night, and he wasn't there this morning. Somepony in a tin can...



Oh, fuck me with a fuel rod, I -knew- there was something off with that stallion at the old test site!



"Mmh?" Featherweight looked up from the cooking pan, setting the fork down, myself looking frantically around. My rifles, where were my rifles!? Buzzy hovered out of my way as I darted around the place, Featherweight reaching out a hoof and grabbing onto me. "Hold up there speedy, what's going on here?" I panted for a bit, taking in a breath and holding it for a moment. Letting it out in a sigh, the larger stallion looked down at myself, my eyes glancing around the area.



"My friend Minty, augmented unicorn, Stable 76, he wasn't in bed this morning. I thought he was just up at the energy weapons place, but... ah, ponyfeathers, I should've known we got away from that pony in the power armor way too easily!" I grunted and smacked my hooves against the sides of my head, grimacing and trying to concentrate. Power armor, did he mention who he was working for or what he was doing out there? "Think, thinkthinkthink... my rifles, where are my rifles?" I stood myself up, Buzzy hovering over with the two long automatics, if just barely. Man, talk about some strong wings.



"Power armored pony... have an energy weapon on him, seem kind of stuck-up?" Featherweight tapped a hoof against his chin as I fitted the rifles and saddle on, glancing over at Buzzy. I nodded, tightening the straps with my mouth and cycling the bolt once, picking up the bit. "Buzzy, get your pew-pews and load them with the AP rounds, looks like we're going after Steel Rangers. Stealing weapons is one thing, but pony-napping? Really?" He looked back to myself, resting a hoof on my shoulder as Buzzy saluted and hovered off with a wide grin, rumagging through an upper closet. We stood there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, myself removing the auto-rifles' firing bit from my mouth and looking back up to him.



"He's just a friend, I-I mean, we haven't-" Featherweight moved his hoof to my lips, silencing me, looking down with a smile. I blinked a few times as he returned a soft gaze from those big blue eyes, his short mane floating a bit on a small breeze from the stove. Buzzy's searching continued in the background as he glanced up, grinning and dropping his hoof, leaning forwards and giving me a light peck on the cheek. I stuttered in surprise from the gesture, my eyes going wide as he chuckled and righted himself, a small green pegasus hanging upside-down from the upper section behind him.



"I -so- called it!"



---



I'd managed to get a head-start towards where the tin can ponies were camped out, some old bunkers or facility up north of Trotisk. Featherweight and Buzzy were following behind, something about him having to find his own battle saddle for the occasion - I'm sure he'll be able to be here in no time. Ooh, I do kind of wonder what kind of armament he'll be packing, though. For such a strong stallion, I wouldn't be surprised if he could dual-wield missile launchers or something, and carry Buzzy on his back with her own guns. No I'm not beating around the fact that the other reason I left in such a hurry was that that little filly wouldn't quit making us both blush whenever I was around Featherweight. I fiddled with the radio, being just barely able to pick up Hi-fi's signal.



"Good afternoon, wasteland! Sorry about our issues with the morning broadcast, somepony thought that DJing was easy and decided against waking me up. At the very least I hope he learned something from it!" Chuckling weakly, the sounds of grumbling could be heard over the mic, followed with a light yelp of pain. Stick to satire, Tom. "Anyways, news time! The first new security robots have rolled off the lines at the old RobronCo facility, going for a surprisingly inexpensive price of 1000 caps each! Get yours before the next time the cold invades your home, heheh. Happening in the rest of the wasteland, reports of ponies wearing tin cans have been spotted along the Trotisk-Mooscow highway. I dunno about you, but I'd probably make sure to keep a good supply of 'nades and AP rounds loaded if I were planning on traveling in the next few days. Anyways, I think you've listened to me babble on long enough, let's get some music going! First up is an oldie from Tommy, something called the MLF Lullaby. Kinky bastard, haha~" Alright, yeah, that got a snicker out of me. I turned the radio up, giving my wings a snap, flying low over the small road that supposedly wound over to the facility.



"Sleep, baby, sleep,

in peace may you slumber.

No danger lurks,

your sleep to encumber!

We've got the missiles!

Peace to determine,

and one of the limbs upon the buttons will be gryphon."



I found myself idly humming along, sliding the rifles' bit into my mouth as the road passed alongside an icy river. Buzzy said that the locals in Trotisk called this place Steel Creek for whatever reason, was the name for it before the war. Had an entire salvo of Zebra missiles sent against it, all managed to miss, mostly. The local population of Steel Creek probably sure knew it, though, when their skin started peeling off... or when they were reduced to ash and shadows. The road wound away as the ice opened to a wide, flat expanse, something my Pip-buck seemed to identify as 'Horseshoe Basin'. Honestly, it certainly didn't look too much like a horseshoe. I eased myself down onto the ground, looking warily about the snowdrifts that seemed to pop up along this section of road. I'd rather -not- be blasted out of the sky, thank you very much. The cold wind blew off of the frozen basin, whistling through the snow dunes and chilling my face, everything aside from that and the radio seeming eerily silent.



A sudden discharge of a red laser flying over my head and melting the snowy ice that'd accumulated in my mane was ample notice that I wasn't alone. I dove behind a snowbank, digging myself in, hearing the sound of metal impacting metal and annoyed chatter over the icy wind. With a hoof, I pressed the bolt back on the rifles and checked the chambers; loaded with the AP rounds, good, tin cans ought to be no trouble. A voice boomed over the wind, myself hugging the snowbank, pulling the bit into my mouth in the meantime.



"Drop any weapons you have and come out with wings at your sides, and we won't open fire! State your business in this area." Friendly. Well, better than raiders, and I don't have another balefire egg to throw at them, anyways. But, they still took my friend... "You have ten seconds to conform, or we will open fire!" I huffed out a breath, spitting out the bit and leaning back against the top of the snowbank, peering over it.



"I'm here for my friend! Unicorn with a metal horn, peppermint on his flank, one metallic leg. Did you take him last night?!" Right, I'm outgunned, outnumbered, and probably out-armored, but I'm not going to make myself an easy target. Lasers -really- hurt. Oh, when's Buzzy and Featherweight going to get here!? "I don't want a firefight to go down as much as you do, just give me him in one piece and we'll leave!"



"What are you talking about? Nopony's even been to Troti- ah, nopony's left since... since... nopony's gone anywhere! Go away! Nopony's home!" Another clang of metal. Must be a new troop or something, because if this is what they had for their best... Minty would be so embarrased to have been captured by these luddites. A dull screaming came in from behind, turning into a roar as I looked up, half expecting to see a crumpled, flaming fuselage roaring towards me. I think my pants sighed as I spotted Featherweight screaming in with a pair of absolutely massive guns at his sides, Buzzy holding steady a pair of small submachine guns while she sat against the ammunition containers on his back. Oh, this was gonna be bad... especially with my nose bleeding again!



The machine-cannons at his side opened up, tearing large craters in the snowbanks and scattering the surprised - and honestly terrified, I would think - Steel-plated ponies. I jumped out and lifted up behind them, strafing the ground as they hurried and ran back along the road. Featherweight and Buzzy hovered by, waving over at me, the pair of massive machine guns smoking in the cold air. I rubbed my muzzle, sniffling in and waving back, hovering over.



"They've definitely got Minty. You think we're clear for an aerial assault? I mean, ah, they do have those lasers and goop guns and things... but, hot damn..." I blinked a few times, my attention falling to the pair of massive drum-fed guns that were attached at Featherweight's sides. Those things practically could fire smaller guns! And they were loaded with explosive bullets, too?! If I were a stronger pony...



"Steelponies ain't the most manuverable in those tin cans, but their guns are. We gotta come in low 'n fast if we want to catch 'em and keep in one piece. Maybe we try not to kill any so they don't try to completely kill us, eh? Just warning shots?" Buzzy looked between the both of us, Featherweight nodding with his battle saddle's bit in his mouth. She did have a point, no casualties means that they maybe won't do anything worse to him than what they've already done, if they've done anything. "'sides, that'd probly be a new record for shortest relationship ever."



How can such a little filly make big stallions blush so hard?



---



Right... that was a LOT more than just a few ponies in tin cans! Featehrweight and Buzzy were weaving through laser fire overhead, the armored ponies having set up rather heavy defenses at the front of what I thought was just a tunnel. I managed to plink one enough times in the right spot to get his suit to fizzle out - funny, you'd think these things were just robots, if they didn't scream so much when you got a lucky rebound off of the ground and narrowly avoided turning them into a mare. Just need to hit the right spots. lasers scorched the air overhead as Featherweight opened up with his cannons on a mounted laser minigun-thing, the pony operating it having just enough time to turn tail and get blown off of the platform by the high explosive shells. I made another bolt skywards - owowowow, laser burns, laser burns! - diving onto the second mount and spraying it with the regular rounds, watching as it's operator jumped clean off of it. I landed with a thud against his side, sending him rolling onto his back. Sheesh, this stuff made ponies into turtles!



"P-p-please, don't kill me! I-I have ah, a wife, and, and foals!" He whimpered from behind his suit's facemask, raising his hooves in surrender. Well, he did at least miss a few shots... but they still had Minty in their armored facility. I glared down through the visor, standing over him for a moment, raising a hoof - my back hoof - into the air. The orange mare in my head blinked a few times, bringing her stetson off of her hay-colored mane and holding it infront of her face. She cringed and covered her eyes as the forceful kick had that father singing alto, his forehooves reaching for his crotch as I jumped over him and charged for the ponies in the trenches ahead, tackling one to the ground as Featherweight went for another strafing run. A mare's voice rose over the battle, if just barely, the sounds of explosions and gunfire almost drowning it out.



"What is the meaning of this!? Everypony, STOP! CEASE FIRE!" I was just about to add another pony to the Writhing Choir when a whitish-teal film of magic encompassed my body, lifting me up out of the trench and over to the enterance. Come on, don't make me an easy target, that's just cheating! I struggled in the field, hearing the gunfire start to fade, the stattaco of Featherweight's and Buzzy's guns dying as the wind filled the wasteland again. The earth seemed to shake beneath me - or, wait, that was me shaking... ooh, stars - as I was levitated to the ponies standing at the end of the tunnel, shaking my head a bit and bringing them both into focus. One was a unicorn mare adorned in heavy robes, and the other...



"...Minty?"







Full Story Arc





Fallout: Equestria created by kkatman

