In the Garden of My Heart

by jasontaylorblogs

Chapters

• Courier's Conundrum
• Garden Wandering
• Out of the Desert and Into the Garden
• An Unexpected Journey, Discovery of the Heart
• One of Those Days
• Everything Will Be Fine

Courier's Conundrum

Written by ed2481

The unexpected sound of birds singing and trilling filled his ears and the man’s eyes fluttered open slowly.  He groaned and moved a hand up to shade his sight from the bright beams of sunlight that were currently trying to slice their way into his brainpan with vengeful knives of hate!

The light was almost bright enough to make him believe that he’d somehow made his way back to the fucking Mojave! Of course how he would’ve made that trip without remembering how he got there could mean only one of two things. One, he’d gotten so blackout drunk that he’d somehow managed to walk there all by his lonesome. Or two, he’d gotten drunk and convinced Elliot to drop him off there.

That’s when the man noticed something, even though the sunlight was bright, the temperature was all wrong. When you were outside in the Mojave you could feel the beads of sweat as they flowed down your back and you quickly became a salty piece of jerky if you weren’t careful about how much water you drank. Here the air was temperate, not too hot and not too cold.

The birds were another clue; there were only crows and vultures in the Mojave, nothing that made the type of sounds that the birds around him were making. So… that ruled out the Mojave; maybe he was in Oasis.

“Well I guess I’ve spent enough time lying here contemplating my own navel, time to see where the fuck I am.” the man muttered as he sat up.

Up to now he’d been keeping his eyes closed to block out the bright sunlight, but now he opened them.

He was currently sitting in the middle of a lush green garden.  Evergreens, conifers, flower beds, hedges, and even some nice green honest-to-God grass sprawled around him. The garden was obviously manicured within an inch of its green chlorophyll-filled life and the man felt a tiny smile flit across his face.  He’d always appreciated it when someone in the Wasteland took the time to care for the greenery.  Too often he’d come across debilitated gardens full of burnt wee-

His thought process ground to a halt as he noticed the other things that currently surrounded him.  They resembled the small horses that he remembered from one of the books in the Vault...except for the fact that they were wearing suits of golden armor, wielded swords, and several appeared to have either a horn or a pair of wings.

There were at least thirty of them standing around him with expressions of perplexed bewilderment on their faces.  The man’s hand immediately began to dart for the comforting hilt of his shock sword, but he stopped mid gesture knowing that that could be interpreted as a sign of aggression.

Considering that he was only wearing his leather duster and his black leather pants along with his combat boots, he didn’t exactly feel like starting an unnecessary fight.  Not that he wouldn’t win the fight should it break out, because he knew that he would.  It was mostly because he’d long ago made a rule about randomly killing people who didn’t attack him first.  So instead of beginning a brawl he just did what naturally came to mind first.

“Sup?” He asked with a small smile as he pulled himself to his feet.  That set off a rapid flood of whispers throughout the crowd of soldiers.  The man rolled his eyes.  “English motherfuckers, do you speak it?” he asked.  He’d always wanted to use that, ever since he’d read it in a book.

The horses stared at him in shock, their mouths were now hanging open and the man swore that he saw one eat a bug.

“Well I suppose that that answers that fucking question, so how much damage did I cause and how many caps is it going to take to keep me out of jail this time?” he snapped.  The response he got was far from enlightening.

“Wha-what are you?”  One of the soldiers, one with a plumed helmet and a red mane, asked.

“I’m an extremely sexy man, what about you?” The man asked with a smirk.

“I’m a unicorn.” The unicorn said confidently.  It seemed that his confidence had rallied and now he was ready to talk.

“Well that’s fan-fucking-tastic!” Ethan said with a wide smile. “I’ve only ever read about you guys, I thought you’d be taller though.” he added with a slight frown.

“Bwa- what?” The unicorn asked in confusion.

“Well I always thought that if I ever met a unicorn then he or she’d be big enough for me to ride into battle as he or she dramatically gored a raider with their horn.” the man explained.  “But I guess that’s not going to happen so I’ll have to make do with talking short unicorns.” he added with a slight sigh.  The guard with the plumed helmet had paled, an impressive feat considering that his coat was already white, and his eyes narrowed.

“None of us will be doing anything like that.” The guard said; his voice was full of disgust.

“Okie-dokie then, whatever floats your boat mister unicorn.” The man said with a smirk.

“My name is Sergeant Ember, not mister unicorn.” The unicorn told the man, who simply chuckled.

“Your parents must’ve been pretty damn smart if they knew to name you Sergeant when you were born, that or they had a really odd way of naming their children.” Ethan replied with a grin. “Is your brother named Major Spark, or General Flame?”

The unicorn’s teeth ground together audibly and it took all of his control to keep from launching a fireball at the creature before him. This wasn’t helped by the light chuckles that drifted through the crowd behind him.

“No, he is not. What is your name?” Sergeant Ember asked through gritted teeth.

“Depends on who you ask, but you can call me Ethan, Ethan Smith.” Ethan replied with a grin.

“I see, and what is your purpose in Equestria, Ethan Smith?” Sergeant Ember asked through still-gritted teeth.

“Oh you know the usual, get drunk and kill things.” Ethan replied offhandedly with a shrug.

Sergeant Ember’s snarl as he swung his sword--which was held aloft in a thin red light at Ethan’s head--made Ethan chuckle as he drew his own sword up in time to parry the blow.

“You’re one of those people who joined the army because they didn’t have enough of a sense of humor to do anything else aren’t you?” Ethan asked with a smirk as he and the Sergeant traded blows.

The Sergeant just scowled at him, his face a mask of angry concentration. The guards had formed a circle around the two combatants and were noisily cheering.  It was difficult to tell exactly who they were cheering for, but Ethan thought that they were mostly just enjoying themselves.  They stepped back and forth thrusting and swinging at each other for several minutes.  Ethan was effortlessly parrying all but the craftiest swings with ease, Sergeant Ember barely holding his own against the man. The guards kept up their cheering until they all suddenly fell silent.

“STOP!” A new and authoritative voice shouted, making Ethan pause mid swing.  A white-coated blue-maned stallion stomped through the circle of guards and, to the human’s surprise, Ethan suddenly found himself suspended in the air in a tiny bubble covered in small holes.  Sergeant Ember was floating across from him in a bubble of his own.

Shining Armor had been in the middle of a very romantic meeting with Cadence when one of his guards had started banging on his door and shouting about how some strange creature had been found in the castle garden. And now he was here and he’d just had to break up a duel between the odd creature and one of his best sergeants.  To say that he was angry would be a slight understatement.

“Wow you’re not very good at the whole sword fighting thing are you?” Ethan asked Sergeant Ember as he leaned back into the bubble’s side. “I mean, I’ve gotten more out of breath having sex than I did fighting you.” he chuckled.

“I’m going to lock you up in a dark cell!” Sergeant Ember shouted angrily.

Shining groaned internally.  This was going to be a long day, and he had the feeling that he was going to have fill out a lot of paperwork before it was over...

Garden Wandering

Written by jasontaylorblogs

A cool breeze.  That was new.  Most of the time you were lucky to get the arid razors of the Mojave wind while you were trekking along the abandoned roads.  Cool air felt refreshing.  Not to mention being able to breath something that wasn’t completely stale or filled with poison.  No, this crisp air was definitely a step up from the scorching weight of the single compound that was more important to human life than any other in existence.

Of course, not everything was great about his new scenario.  For starters, the bright light of his new location left him blind to the goings-on around him.  Then there was the matter of the chirping.  The constant, nagging, pounding chirping that plagued his every second of consciousness.  Birds.  Small birds, by the faint pitch.  Nothing like the Mojave.  Hell, not even something you’d find in Zion.

After what felt like hours of resting in the tall grass—real grass—he decided to try and get back to work.  He had packages to deliver, and he had no intentions of letting Mr. House down.  As he finally managed to coax his muscles to work in favor of his wishes, he heard a loud series of gasps burst from around him.

Opening his eyes to find the light not-so-blinding, he examined the sources of the gasps.  They were all short creatures, barely half his height.  They were quadrupeds clad in golden armor.  He laughed at the sight of their helmets.  Reminded him of Caesar’s Legion, a force he’d essentially wiped out of existence on behalf of the ruler of New Vegas.  His trigger finger itched to rid his sight of the barbaric headdresses.

After making his extended comparison, he started to analyze the creatures themselves.  With a slight chuckle, he remarked, “Horses.  Similar to those found in Old World books.  Though I don’t believe the texts mentioned wings and horns.  Or armor, for that matter.”

One of the creatures in front of him stomped a hoof and adopted a commanding tone, “Who are you?  Why have you intruded in our garden?”  The creature had a brown coat, and his mane flowed in black locks.

“My name is Heathcliff.  It seems the books forgot to mention your abilities to speak.”  The man’s tone was blank, as if he weren’t really speaking to the creature.  He continued, “As for how I got here, I’m not sure.  Perhaps the Transportalponder malfunctioned again.  Or perhaps I’m simply hallucinating on Mentats again.”

The creature cocked an eyebrow, his official tone fading slightly at the human’s vacant expression.  He stammered, “At any rate, you shouldn’t be here!  You are under arrest for the crime of trespassing against the Royal Family!”

Several of the other horses drew swords and spears, most of which held in the air by some sort of anti-gravity gel.  Heathcliff chuckled, “You might want to reconsider.  Or at least tell me your name so I’ll know who I’m killing.”

“I am First Lieutenant Aegis Shield, of the Canterlot Royal Guard!  Submit peacefully or we will have no choice but to use force!”  The horse stood up tall and poked his chest out, trying to bluff the human that was twice his size.

At that sign, the biped scoffed something inaudible.  In the blink of an eye, he had pulled a strange pistol from its holster and disintegrated one of the spears that hovered just in front of Aegis.  Heathcliff sighed, “Dr. Mobius was right; the energy cells are compatible.”  Remembering the hostile creatures that surrounded him, he continued, “If you want to threaten me, at least make sure you have a chance.”

Aegis’s eye twitched in sudden fear.  The lieutenant gasped, “How’d you do that?!  That was…amazing!”

Waving a dismissive hand, the human holstered his gun and mumbled, “The Mentats.  And the V.A.T.S.  Possibly the sub dermal agility implants.  Not sure.”  Making sure no other horse wanted to advance on him, he dropped a small bag to the ground and began to rummage within it.

Aegis scoffed, “So what even are you?”

Without looking up from the bag, Heathcliff chuckled, “Human.  Normal, mostly.  I’m not an irradiated ghoul or super mutant, at least.  Maybe not so normal.  Once you’ve been through the Divide, you never are normal again.”  Finally, the courier pulled a rather bulky gun from his bag.

The soldiers around him immediately set their weapons at the ready, expecting some kind of attack from the machine in the human’s hands.  One random guard shouted, “He’s got another fancy weapon!  Stay on guard!”

Aegis snapped, “Drop your weapon, human!  We won’t hesitate to strike, no matter what kind of tricks you have.”  The guards all adopted stern expressions, as if trying to convince themselves of their threats’ honesty.

Heathcliff laughed, “Oh please, this gun couldn’t hurt a fly.  Unless that fly doesn’t like being teleported many miles in the blink of an eye.  Then it might hurt.  Still feels weird, and I’ve been through at least a dozen times.”  He examined the weapon for any signs of tampering.

The courier was still unsure of how he ended up where he was.  If the Transportalponder was malfunctioning, then using it might only make things worse.  However, the colorful nature of wherever he was started to give him a migraine.  He needed—as much as he hated to say it—to return to the bleak expanse of the Mojave before the neon creatures were fried into his corneas.

Aegis groaned, “Listen here, human!  I’m not playing games with you.  I don’t care where you’re from or what that is; you shouldn’t be here.  Now cooperate or I’ll have to subdue you myself.”

“I don’t have time for these trivialities.  Mr. House will be upset if I don’t deliver this ‘cake’ to Papa Khan before his birthday.”  He pointed the gun’s muzzle at the ground smack dab between him and the hostile soldier.  “The Big Empty awaits, hopefully.”

Pulling the trigger, a large beam of blue laser engulfed a three-foot radius from the trigger point, lifting both Heathcliff and Aegis into the air with some unknown force.  Any cries that the soldier may have tried to share were muted by the field of energy.  After raising about a thousand feet up, the two organic life forms, as well as any attached possessions, disappeared as the beam of blue vanished.

The rest of the guards were left to stare into the sky at absolutely nothing, not a trace of their lieutenant to be found.

Out of the Desert and Into the Garden

Written by Explodium

The human groaned quietly as he came to. A dull ache pounded in his skull, his ears were ringing, and his mouth was dry.

His eyes still squeezed shut, he pushed himself into a kneeling position, groaning quietly all the while. He was sore all over; it felt like he was on the receiving end of an epic ass-kicking, as unlikely as that would be. He fervently tried to remember what he had been doing, but his memory eluded him. He didn’t drink, so that was out of the question. The last thing he needed was to wake up the following morning to a hangover and realize he sold his kidneys for twenty caps, like that other poor sod. He must have taken a mighty blow to the head, which was the only immediate explanation he could think of. However, if he’d been captured, why weren’t his limbs bound? Also, the air was far too clean to be a cell.

He took a deep breath of this clean air as his eyes fluttered open. He reeled back in surprise as the reason for this became apparent.

He was kneeling on a tiled path in the middle an intricately decorated garden. The sky above was a pale violet, the sun was slowly setting. The first stars were coming out. Everywhere he looked he could see trees, hedges, honest-to-god grass, and flowers of every different color. As far as he could tell, he was alone. Off in the distance, rising high above the garden was a brilliant castle, made of white stone. The man squeezed his eyes shut, and reopened them to ascertain that this wasn’t a hallucination. Everything was still there.

It all looked so…peaceful. It sounded peaceful, and apart from the distant tweeting of birds, it was quiet.

Where am I?

Isaac Shepard, the Lone Wanderer, had been from coast to coast of the former United States, and he had never seen anything like this before. He was aware of Oasis, yes, though this looked like it was organized, being maintained. Plus, there was no castle in Oasis. Hell, there weren’t castles anywhere on the continent, as far as he was concerned.

He grunted as he tried to pull to his feet, but a sharp pain shooting through his leg made the human come crashing back down in short order. Taking another deep breath, the Lone Wanderer decided that now would be a good time to check himself for injuries.

Apart from being bruised all over and bleeding lightly in a few places, he felt pretty exhausted. Fortunately, his body would heal the bleeding cuts quickly; wandering the wastes had its perks after all. But unfortunately, he hissed in pain as he moved his hand across a certain section on one of his legs; he wouldn’t be walking on that thing. It was a rare event when he wished that he was irradiated, the regeneration would be useful right about now. He was in rough shape.

Sadly, his armor was in no better condition.

What was once a set of hellfire armor had been reduced to little more than charred, twisted plates that barely clung onto the human’s muscular form. His arms were completely open to the elements, and the exposed flesh was covered with a thin layer of soot. Curiously, he found the section of the path he was laying on was blackened, burned, and cracked as well. Semi-dried blood stains coated the tiles as well.

What the hell happened…? How long was I here…?

He sighed with dismay as he realized that with the exception of his knife, all of his weaponry was MIA, along with any other supplies he had on him at the time. His hand shot up to his throat, blindingly groping around, and it closed around a chain hidden just out of sight, around his neck. He quietly grunted in satisfaction. Being one of the only things with his name on it, Isaac felt strangely attached to his old Brotherhood holotag.

Settling into a more comfortable position, Isaac glanced down at his Pip-Boy 3000. Unsurprisingly, the ultra-durable piece of Rob-Co tech was completely unscathed by whatever ordeal he had been through. The first thing to greet him as he turned on the display was the cartoonish image of a crying Vault Boy, one of the legs surrounded by a dotted line, as well as the head. With a deft tap of his finger, he pushed the “Map” button trying to get a fix on his location. Only to be surprised at the message that flashed on the screen.

GPS unilink unavailable.

He blinked once, then exhaled deeply. He was in an unknown location, without any means to navigate, and his surroundings looked like something that flat out just didn’t exist in the wastes.

Where the hell am I!?

His heart began racing as the implications began to set in. The pounding in his head intensified as panic threatened to encroach in. As it stood, he had no way to treat his injured leg, he was thirsty, alone, and very, very lost.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Someone is maintaining this place, which likely means that someone is here, so someone should find me eventually, right? He frowned.  Isaac hated leaving things to chance.

Isaac licked his dry lips as he slowly began to accept his situation.

I could really use a drink of water right now…

It was then that a certain sweet sound reached his ears. A half smile came to his lips. He would recognize that noise anywhere; the sound of running water. Reorienting himself, and drawing his knife, just in case, he began crawling towards the noise, carefully minding his injured leg.

More than once, his wounds reopened, each time losing a little more precious blood before finally healing over once more. It was a slow trip, it felt like hours, but soon, his goal came in sight. His eyes widened as he looked upon it. It was a large, ornate fountain, carved out of brilliant white stone. A tall stature of a rearing horse stood in the middle. Curiously, several additional statues of horses surrounded the fountain.

Guy must like horses or something…

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the statue of the pony in the fountain had a horn – a unicorn. Water was shooting out of its horn into the fountain below. He noticed that the other statues were unicorns as well.

As he passed several statues, it did not escape his notice how much the horses’ appearances differed from how they looked in textbooks. Their muzzles were much shorter, and their features strangely human.

He didn’t have much time to ponder it before he found himself coming to a stop, and peering over the lip of the fountain.

Am I really this desperate…?

He could see his reflection in the water, and he couldn’t deny that he looked like crap, even if he didn’t count the scarring. His dark hair was dirty and matted, and dark circles lined his bright green eyes. They too looked dulled. His reflection rippled as he experimentally tapped the surface of the water with a single finger. It felt pleasantly cool.

He cocked an eyebrow as he realized that the bottom of the shallow pool was full of coins.  His eyes darted between the statue in the middle and the water. The man had heard of the concept of throwing coins in fountains and wells to make wishes. Curiosity piqued, he deftly plunged his hand in and grabbed a few of the shiny coins.

He withdrew it and gazed at the trio of coins resting in his palm. It wasn’t like any kind of currency he was familiar with. They were each roughly the size of a pre-war quarter, albeit thicker. A profile shot what appeared to be a unicorn was embossed on one side, where on the other was a picture of two winged unicorns, their bodies arranged in such a way to make a circle.

Someone must really like horses… he thought as he dropped the coins back into the fountain.

It was then that he heard something else. He felt a pang of alarm at the sound of metal-on-stone. Something was coming.

The grip on his knife tightened as the source of that sound drew closer and closer. He rapidly tried to come up with an excuse to whomever was approaching, assuming that they were friendly. If not, he was in trouble, given the fact that he could barely stand.

It was not long before the source of the noise came into view. He learned very quickly what was up with the excessive horse motifs as a column of equine creatures stormed into the garden. They quickly caught sight of him resting against the fountain, and before he even really had time to think, the injured human found himself surrounded by armored ponies, both from the ground, and from above. Much to his surprise, several of the ponies had wings. Pegasi.

All of them were wearing gold-plated armor, the helmets had blue plumes. Each of them were wielding nothing more advanced than a spear, either somehow held in their hooves, or suspended in a strange glow.

Under most circumstances, Isaac probably would have been able to take them all on, but not now. A pony with a different colored plume stepped forward; he assumed it was the leader.

It barked something at him; the human couldn’t understand a word of it.

“I’m sorry…” Isaac rasped tiredly as he tried to stand, leaning on the fountain for support, “I can’t understand…”

The pony shouted something again. He then noticed that each ponies’ eyes were on his knife. Before he could say anything else, each of the soldier ponies readied their spears. Isaac took a deep breath.

Come on…you didn’t survive what you did just to be killed by a bunch of ponies!

His eyes frantically darted about, trying to find an escape route. He knew it was pointless though, given his injured leg wouldn’t get very far.

If he surrendered, what would the ponies do though? Would he be treated fairly, or promptly killed?

Before he could even contemplate it, he yelped in surprise as his knife was abruptly enveloped in a blue glow and yanked from his inattentive hand. He desperately tried reaching out for it, but it was too late. The wall of spears surrounding him closed in slowly. Strangely, it felt as if his remaining strength was being siphoned away

Why…tired…so…weak…

His legs gave way beneath him, and he slumped to the ground. He groaned; the ponies still appeared to be advancing. Abruptly, another shout echoed through the air. Immediately, all of the soldier ponies stopped closing in on him, albeit with their spears still lowered.

From his spot on the ground, he could hear the leader of the soldier-ponies speaking to the unseen new-arrival. While the soldier sounded male, the newcomer sounded female. His head was bowed as he listened intently.

The circle surrounding him parted. Shortly after, a solitary pair of slender white legs entered his vision, each ended in a golden shoe. Isaac could barely find the strength to raise his head as he looked up at the new pony.

He subconsciously found his jaw dropping as he stared at her.

Her coat was a purest white, a long, spiraling horn protruded from her forehead and a pair of feathery wings protruded from her sides. She was significantly taller than the other ponies if Isaac could stand, he guessed that neither of them would have to look up or down to stare into each other’s eyes. Her mane was hard to describe, it looked like a shimmering curtain of bright pastel colors, blowing in a nonexistent breeze. A tiara was perched atop her head and a golden collar of sorts was around her neck, each set with a purple gemstone.

If I’m not mistaken…a queen or a princess or something…? He wasn’t sure whether to be worried or not.

As if seemingly sensing his unease, the pony crouched down so she was at eye level. She said something to the human in a calm, soothing tone. As his bright green eyes met her pale violet ones, Isaac felt a sense of calmness settle over him.

He wasn’t sure how, but he could sense that the pony before him meant him no harm. Weakly, he reached out for her, she understood the gesture and gently nuzzled the extended hand.

The pony took another step forward and wrapped her forelegs around the injured human, whispering more gentle words into his ear. It was strangely comfortable. As the blood loss and exhaustion finally got to him, he couldn’t help but notice just how cuddly the pony was.

Everything is going to be just fine…

An Unexpected Journey, Discovery of the Heart

Written by blackjack

Exile. It was a word he never thought would be applied to him. After all, he’d done everything he was ordered to; he’d saved his vault, defeated the master and his mutated army, and became a walking legend of the wastes. It was an adventure that cost him dearly; he’d lost many friends:  Ian, Tycho, Dogmeat.  But he always held on to the hope of saving his vault, of returning victorious from his quest to the praise and joy of his people. It was a dream that he would not achieve. The overseer had banished him, had sent him from the one place that he knew he could call home. It was with anger and frustration in his heart that he wandered away from vault 13, and off into the wastes, hoping to simply to disappear from the land.

Little did he know that his hope would be granted.

The first thing he became aware of was the ground. It was soft, almost comfortable. He groaned as he opened his eyes, the sun high in the sky burning his retinas before he managed to get a pair of sunglasses off his belt on. He let out a deep breath and stood up off the ground, eager to continue with what he was doing:  traveling.

Except his surroundings were far different from what he was expecting. Last he remembered he was camped out in the mountains, to the north of Vault 13, under the shade of a large boulder. His current surroundings were far different; instead of rocks and sand, he was standing in a meadow, like one from an old pre war photo he’d seen. Flowers of all colors bloomed around him, a sight he’d never experienced before.

And the smell, the pure freshness of his surroundings assaulted his senses, much in contrast to the dead land he was used to, and the temperature was much milder, cooler, a hell of a lot more comfortable than under the hot wasteland sun.  Where am I, he thought to himself, and how in hell did I get here?

With a slight amount of confusion, he shrugged and walked over to a gathering of flowers, taking his gloves off and running a hand over it. Sure enough, it was real, a fact that confused him. He raised a hand to his chin and scratched the stubble that had recently grown, pondering the implications of his current situation.  After several moments, he stood up and turned around, eager to explore the rest of this strange garden, and hopefully figure out more about how he had gotten there.

Except that when he turned around, he was greeted by several dozen small four legged creatures standing before him, each one clad in heavy armor; several had floating weapons near them, primitive things like swords and spears, but nothing as advanced as a firearm. Others merely pointed a strange horn that was growing out of their head at him; he wondered why, surely it would make a terrible weapon as the tip wasn’t even somewhat sharp.

Neither the creatures nor he made a move, and they merely kept up a near literal staring contest. His right hand fell onto his side, resting on the handle of his .223 pistol. For a moment he considered drawing it and firing upon the crowd of seemingly hostile creatures, but he stopped himself. As he had learned from his time in Necropolis, sometimes talking was a better solution to fighting.

After several more awkward moments, a taller creature walked out of the crowd, its armor slightly more intricate than the others; it appeared to be of higher rank. It trotted right up to him and opened its mouth, strange sounds but nothing more coming out.

The Vault Dweller figured that it was trying to say something, but it must’ve spoken a different language than he did. He tried to say something, but stopped and shrugged when all he got was a confused stare. Then the creature did something with its horn.  It bent down, and a glow emerged from the tip right before a sudden flash of light.

“You there,” the lieutenant creature said while looking up, this time in perfect English, “I demand you tell me what you are, and why you are trespassing in the Royal Gardens. Answer at once or I will have you detained.”

The vault dweller understood that well enough, even if he had no idea what the lieutenant meant by, ‘Royal Gardens’.  After all, there were no royalty in the wastes, not that he was aware of. Unless he was somewhere else, much farther from California than he was hoping. If so, then he would have to think of some other way to get back.

He looked over the creature’s shoulder at the crowd, thinking over his choice to not fight his way out and weighed his options. He was rather under armed; all he had was his assault rifle and pistol, and not much spare ammo for either. For defense he had his combat armor, and although it would do well against small arms like the ones the ponies had, it wouldn’t be enough to save him should he get overwhelmed, which he knew would happen, seeing all the targets he’d have to face.

The creature before him looked like it was starting to get annoyed from the lack of a response; the Vault Dweller shrugged, deciding combat was definitely a last resort. “I am a human,” he said, pointing to his chest, “and as for how I got into these gardens, I was hoping you would be able to tell me that...  I just woke up here. I didn’t mean to trespass.”

“What in Celestia’s name is a human? The only things that live in Equestria are ponies, explain yourself.”  The lieutenant demanded.

The Vault Dweller sighed, “No humans, huh? I must be farther from California than I thought. Well, I stand by what I said earlier, I didn’t mean to trespass, just let me be on my way, you won’t hear from me again.”  He desperately hoped that the pony would listen to him.

“I’ll believe that this was a misunderstanding when I see the proof. For now I’m placing you under arrest until we can decide what to do with you. Then you’ll face the princess’s judgment for your crime.”

The vault dweller sighed and backed away from the lieutenant.  Despite his wishes, combat was becoming more and more a viable option, and there was no way he was going to spend so much as a day in a prison cell. “For what? I told you, I didn’t do anything!” he yelled, but the lieutenant ignored him and began to trot closer, a pair of handcuffs floating next to him.

The Vault Dweller leaped backwards and drew his pistol, pointing the barrel at his adversary’s face. “Back off!” he shouted, “I don’t want to kill you!”

He only got a scoff as a reply, ‘With what, that little thing?” The pony mockingly asked. Seeing no other option, he pointed it at the ground a distance away and pulled the trigger, throwing up a cloud of dirt as the bullet impacted, the sudden bang taking most of the ponies off guard. The lieutenant looked back at him with a blank expression.  ”What is that thing?” he asked, his voice ridden with disbelief.

“This,” the human said, pointing it directly at the lieutenant’s face, “is a gun. It is more advanced than any weapon you or your men have. I’d rather not use it, but I will if I have to.” His finger crept to the trigger and rested over it; if there was going be bloodshed, he’d rather get it over with as quickly as he could.

He was about to speak again when suddenly the pistol was wrenched out of his hands by some strange force. He looked up at it floating away in a blue aura, and tried to grab it, only for it to float even higher.

“You’re unarmed, you have no other option but to come with us,” The pony stated, his horn glowing the same color as the aura, “We’d rather not spill blood in these gardens.” He levitated up his handcuffs towards the Vault Dweller, but instead received a rifle butt to the face. He recoiled backwards before the rattling of gunfire flew forth from the human’s rifle, landing in his kneecap. The pony let out a pained grunt and slid to the ground, both of the objects he was holding falling straight down with him.

The rest of the ponies began to move forward, but neither got within fighting distance of the armed man. He rested his sights on the crowd, contemplating whether or not he should start firing before one of them managed to close the distance and attack.

But before any fighting could start, there was a loud maniacal cackling sound, and all of the ponies nearby turned to see a tall bipedal creature standing behind the Vault Dweller. It knelt down on one knee next to him, and the man backed away, his rifle aimed directly at the thing’s head.

“Oh do put that thing down; I was only trying to have some fun. You wouldn’t believe the things that boring old princess has had me doing.” It said, snapping its finger. The man’s pistol suddenly disappeared from the ground and appeared in his holster.  The creature continued, “I’m afraid that this is getting a little too serious, but it was fun while it lasted.”

The vault dweller cocked his head; he had no idea what this thing was talking about, “What the hell do you mean?  You’re what brought me here?”

A wide smile filled the creature’s mouth, highlighting a large single tooth, “Why yes, I did. Figured you could use a little vacation from your life - that desert does look so drab doesn’t it?” The figure turned and looked at the wounded pony lying near him and snapped his fingers. With a flash its wounds were healed, although he seemed none too pleased.

“Discord, why the hay did you bring that thing here? It could have killed me! Celestia will hear of this!”

The figure rolled its eyes. “Oh be quiet, this poor individual was trying to avoid conflict, if anything you have yourself to blame for all of this.” It turned back to the Vault Dweller, who seemed even more confused than before. “So sorry to cut this short, but I think you’re going to have to go back home.  Can’t exactly let there be any more complications.” He glanced towards the previously-wounded lieutenant, a look the human read as saying, ‘Although I want to.’

The pony grunted and stood up, “Good riddance, we can’t just let troublemakers walk freely through the-” He stopped talking as his mouth suddenly turned into a closed zipper. The foreigner looked upwards at the malformed creature, who held look of amusement on his face.

“Can’t say I’ve enjoyed your speeches lieutenant, you take things far too seriously. This suits you better, don’t you think?”  He turned towards the human, who couldn’t think of anything else to do but shrug.  He was simply out of words at the moment.

Discord took a moment to look to his right, then he looked back at the human and, using an uncanny amount of strength, picked him right off his feet with one hand.  “Time for you to go home; those ponies over there are looking at me strangely.”  He pulled the human closer to his face and whispered with a smile and a quiet chuckle, “Not that I don’t enjoy the attention.”

The Vault Dweller blinked twice, the creature in front of him defying all of his explanations.  “Wait,” he blurted, “Who – or what – the hell, are you?”  The odd creature smiled even wider.

“I do love questions, but first, might I ask, who you are?”

The vault dweller rolled his eyes.  Didn’t the creature already know who he was?  It was what brought him here after all. Or maybe it was merely playing games. “A vault dweller...” He paused when the statement had no effect, “The name’s Isaac.”

The creature lifted him up higher and began spinning his fist; it almost looked like he would punch the human. “Well, I’m Discord. Goodbye.” he said, then tossed the foreigner upwards and swung its massive paw straight towards his face, striking him through the air.

The Vault Dweller hit the ground with a thud and rolled several feet before coming to a halt. His pistol was out of his holster in seconds, but he was no longer in the garden. Instead, he was next to his bed cot:  his camp. He could judge from the moon in the sky that it was near midnight. A small fire was roasting the remains of a mole rat. All was normal.

He began wondering if his strange encounter was merely a dream.  Had it ever even happened? He stood up and began making his way to his sleeping mat.  He laid down in it, and contemplated whether or not the past events were real. It must have been a dream; he probably fell out his bed and rolled down a small slope. It couldn’t have happened. Talking ponies didn’t exist; he’d be crazy to think such things.  At least, that was what he told himself.

He stopped thinking for a moment and reached over to his satchel for something reflective as a thought passed through his head. He pulled out his field mirror in front of himself. It took him a few moments, but he found it, and a strange grin filled his face. There it was; just below his eye sat a strange, large, and peculiarly fist-shaped bruise.

One of Those Days

Written by TOOS0BER

Heat.

Intense heat washed over my goatee-bearded face as I rested where – where was I?

I would have bolted upright at that thought, but my aching body just protested louder than my desire to rise. Leather armor with assassin plates (a 'gift' from a certain high-tech hellhole), while ideal at stopping most forms of minor attacks, was not good at keeping one cool. I was used to the blistering, cruel sun of the Mojave, and the daylight that poured on to my face felt similar enough.

Aside from that, my body felt like it had been pummeled with scores of ball-point hammers swung by Nightkin – those bastards hurt! I recalled that pain from infiltrating RobCo's launch facility some distance from my home, Novac.

That in mind, and my limited knowledge of medicine, I slowly tested my movements. Finger, palms and arms all moved with no problem – no broken bones there, good. I took a deep breath, expanding my chest as far as I dared. No hideous sting of pain assaulted me – good, no broken or bruised ribs.

A roaring lightning strike of sound caught my attention, and I opened my tired, old eyes at the sight.

And then they shot wide at the scene before me.

The perfect blue sky was marred by a whirling dark gray and purple vortex of cloud in the sky, an ominous red glow directly in the center. The sound I heard was one of the random, and frequent, energy bolts shooting off in random directions, emanating from the eerie threatening glow. Just beyond the fringes of the swirling cloud arms, space itself seemed to be distorted, as though I were looking through crystal clear water.

What the fuck? I blinked rapidly at the strange... whatever it was. I'd seen some fucked up, crazy shit in the Mojave that took two, sometimes three slices of cake – but this took the whole damned pastry.

The anomaly gave a screeching metallic whine, and rapidly shrunk into itself, the angry storm cloud arms receding at demonic speeds to the red glow. It brightened with each passing second, and when all the cloud had disappeared, the hurricane thing exploded. I heard and saw the shock wave before my body, still prone on where I had landed, was assaulted by the whirling wind that was produced thereafter.

I shielded my face, which protected me from the minor debris that was swept up. The resulting whirlwind pelted me with dozens of small rocks and other random junk.

When I dared to peek out from my leather bound arms, the anomaly was gone – poof, like it never even existed. The groaning screech, likewise, disappeared and was replaced by a peaceful calmness.

I sighed in relief, grateful that I wasn't being blown up for the umpteenth time in my relatively short life. With the Wasteland, getting shot at, exploded on, or just in general getting massacred was a way of life.

I pushed myself up with my right arm, the muscles sore and protesting with the effort. I groaned in pain, but knew that I needed to figure out where I was. If I was lucky, I'd be near New Vegas or another peaceful wasteland settlement. If not... well... let's just say that I hate surprises.

The first apparent thing was that I wasn't in the dead and dreary wasteland anymore. I was surrounded by neatly groomed and trimmed plants. Some of them I recognized despite the fact that the only ones I'd seen were dead and defaced shrubs. Others I had absolutely no idea. Beyond that vegetation, I could make out white-washed and golden towers. At first I wondered if House had managed to paint and spruce up the entire Strip since I last visited.

I scoffed at my own thoughts. There was no way that House and the Three Families could have possibly done that in less than a week – even if they managed to contract and/or conscript the whole populace of Vegas.

No, it was quite clear I wasn't in the Mojave any more.

The next apparent detail was one I had made myself. Just beyond my black-booted feet was a gouging dirt trail, the colorful grass and trees bent apart and obliterated. After a moment of consideration, the perfectly straight trail pointed in the exact same direction as that mysterious anomaly that vanished just moments ago.

It was still too early to tell... but did I possibly do that?

I tried to recall what I was doing before this, where I was and when. And I drew a complete blank. It was like my memory just started over from square one. I knew I had done things, I knew I accomplished stuff – could recall acquaintances, enemies, and what few friends I had made; but the specifics were gone. I did recall Mr. House, and knew that he was... well, important. But beyond that... nothing. I tried a little harder to remember...

...and was rewarded with a massive migraine that made me scream out in pain. My gloved hands clutched at my temples, my back spasmed, forcing me to collapse back onto the ground. Jesus Christ! It felt like someone was drilling straight into my forehead with mining drill! Augh!

So intense was the pain, that a small inkling of tears ran from the corners of my eyes as I lay there, fighting to keep consciousness.

Okay, no thinking about the past. Got it. I thought sarcastically, mouth grimacing on my face.

I waited for maybe a minute, but that constant throbbing made it feel like hours, and the heat still bearing down on me didn't help one bit. Eventually though, the pain dulled down to an almost absent ache. Even so it didn't go away, but it was bearable. I shifted myself up once again...

I heard a voice. No, lots of voices. They sounded frantic, accompanied by rapid... footsteps?

I've heard the tell tale sounds of others before, and being so practiced, I could tell who or what it was by the sound. This was completely foreign and unfamiliar – and that scared me. Gathering as much information on enemies before confronting them was how I survived the Mojave for so long. Those precious moments to prepare and select the perfect plan of action, and the most appropriate, effective weapon. Victory lies in preparation, and I was not prepared!

I glanced around quickly. The rest of the supplies I was – or must have been – toting were scattered around me. I spotted my duffel bag with basic supplies and extra ammunition, saw various boxes and other trash. Apparently some of the junk around me came through with me; I made a mental note to check, something could help shed some light on where I was before, and how I got here. If I ever get the chance that is.

I spotted what I really wanted a mere ten yards away; my customized twelve gauge, lever-action shotgun, lovingly nicknamed Retribution. As well as the upgraded anti-material rifle with it.

I grinned at the weapons. I might not have been prepared, but those two guns could handle almost any situation with relative ease. The rapid footsteps were getting closer – I had maybe a minute before they were on top of me. I made to move...

...and again fell to the ground yelling in pain, this time clutching my right leg.

“Augh! Fuck!!” I screamed aloud, and fumed at my non-responsive leg.

Almost immediately I wanted to hurl. Halfway down my shin, the leg was twisted at the most unnatural angle. My limb was almost snapped in two! The thick and heavy jeans I wore concealed the true horror of the injury, but even through the clothing's black color I could see the dampness of blood soaked through – oh not good...

Ten yards may as well be ten miles now. There was no way in hell that I could possibly reach the weapons in time. Fuck! I kicked out my uninjured leg in frustration.

The figures drew closer into sight now, figures clad in armor. Damn!

I forced myself to kneel on one knee, steadying myself with my one good foot. Quickly, I patted myself down, looking for my auxiliary weapons. The footsteps were deafening now, and I could tell without looking up that my potential enemies were upon me. I drew the Ranger sequoia and the scoped hunting revolver. My outstretched arms held the two heavy revolvers at opposite ends; it was the best position I could muster, with each gun covering roughly half of my flanks.

The rumbling noise stopped, and I finally got to examine whatever had me surrounded.

Figures clad in armor had me covered from every angle. My eyes and head swerved back and forth, the shade of my desperado hat shielding my eyes from the sun. Damn it, there were maybe three or four dozen of these things.

Fuck. Outnumbered, injured, and in some place I didn't recognize in the slightest.

My chest tightened as it dawned on me that I was probably fucked, hard.

Then the strangest thing occurred to me – I was still alive. They weren't attacking me outright. All of them stood there, staring at me. The adrenaline in my blood hadn't subsided, but my mind calmed and I began examining the creatures in earnest.

Obvious things first, these were no creatures I had ever seen in the Mojave. All of them were quadrupeds, and the vast majority were an almost perfect white color with large, expressive eyes uncovered by the armored helmets they wore. Just behind them I could make out various furry tails, most of them different colors that could not have possibly been natural. Neon blue, a fiery red, and a few even had colors I didn't really recognize; I blinked several times, contemplating this. Perhaps the oddest fact was that the creatures were similar to horses – which I saw in the occasional undamaged pre-war book. The only exception was that they were much smaller. With me kneeling on the ground, their heads would come up, maybe, to my chest.

My muscles tensed when I saw their armor. It reminded me much of Caesar's legion – especially the helmets with the artificial mohawks dividing the head. The exception would have to be the color scheme; Caesar had a thing for white, red, and black, while these guys wore gold, silver, and perhaps some black.

I was still wary of them. Even if the coloration was vastly different, the only ones who wore armor in that style were the Legionnaires.

As if to further confound me, I took note of the weapons they wielded; some of them pointed in my direction, while others just stood neutral. Spears, swords, maces, shields, and other such close-quarters combat implements. No guns, no energy weapons, and certainly no explosive-launching bazookas.

I inwardly grinned. That gave me some advantage at least.

That grin disappeared when I saw what looked like crossbows floating above their heads, wrapped in... how the hell should I know what!? It just looked like multi-colored faint light. The fuck!? My eyes lingered on the weapons, wondering how the hell that was even possible, as my ranged advantage was flushed down the proverbial toilet.

It was then that I noticed a similar glow surround a few of the creature's foreheads. Said opponents had what looked like some kind of bony appendage or horn, surrounded by that same creepy glowing light. So was there some kind of connection? Worry about that later...

If there was a later... I deadpanned that uncharacteristic optimism.

It seemed like we were all in some kind of awkward stalemate. I couldn't move and had nowhere to go, and they didn't appear to know how to proceed. If I had to guess, perhaps they were just as surprised to see me as I was to them. I caught several of them cocking confused eyebrows at the two revolvers clutched tightly in my hands. What, had they never seen a gun before?

Suddenly, a group of the strange things off to my left parted ways – some even took flight – to allow an even larger creature to come into view. The thing was significantly larger than the rest, taller by perhaps two or three heads worth. From the forehead jutted another of the horns, but much larger. If there was any indication, this meant it was more powerful by far. From the thing's sides there were a pair of wings – perfectly white, matching the coat. It had long hair that flowed all on its own, a multitude of unnatural colors. Honestly, it felt almost odd to call that stuff hair, the way it seemed to wave and weave all on its own – there was no breeze that I could detect.

The figure slowly approached, and I jerked both pistols to aim directly at it.

The figure stopped, and there was a shuffling of armor. The guards that stood idly by, the ones that didn't already have their weapons pointed at me, now had them all aimed directly for my head. If the stature wasn't indication enough, their protectiveness was; this larger, winged and horned, creature was their leader – and they apparently revered it significantly.

The figure glanced at the guards surrounding us, and waved a long, blunt foreleg at them. They all hesitated, and then lowered their weapons begrudgingly. I didn't expect that, and almost felt like a jerk for not doing the same. I couldn't. There were too many unknowns.

“Be at ease my little ponies,” the giant figure spoke, in perfect English no less. I visibly winced in surprise, clearly taken aback by this. The voice also sounded very feminine and regal.

At me being startled by that act, she smiled warmly.

I narrowed my own eyes in apparent confusion and stark suspicion. The only smile I'd ever gotten like that came from psychopathic raiders, and/or men in business suits whom were just snakes in human form. So, I was wondering whether she was going to kick or bite me.

“It seems he doesn't trust you Princess,” another of the winged and horned creatures strolled up. This one was noticeably shorter, with a dark purple coat and indigo hair; a large... was that a tiara?... crown thingie, a gem shaped like a star burst centered on top, on her head.

I pointed my left revolver, the sequoia, at the new one.

She halted in her tracks, staring at the weapon, and chuckled nervously. “Seems he doesn't trust anypony...” Pony? These things were ponies? I thought my brain had broken.

“Shall we introduce ourselves then, my faithful student?” The large white one asked, turning that smile to her companion.

“Yes!” the new one beamed before looking back at me. “I am Twilight Sparkle, Princess, and student to Princess Celestia.” At the last word she nodded her head toward the larger being – whom bowed.

“Uh...” I coughed and cleared my throat. “I'm...”

The one identified as Twilight Sparkle spoke up in alarm, “Injured! Oh my, you're leg! You need medical treatment immediately...” she made to move closer to me, that large horn on her head began to glow a stark purple.

Again she froze as I aimed both revolvers at her and said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

I paused, and waited to make sure she wasn't going to do anything else, before continuing, “Just what the hell do you think you're doing?” a sweat began to break out across my forehead, and I got the feeling it wasn't from the heat.

Twilight recoiled from my words, which seemed odd, and then gave me a flat look, “And just where else are you going to get that leg treated?” she gestured at my mangled limb with a forehoof.

I grudgingly took my eyes off her to stare at the leg. It was bad. I had the tools in my duffel bag, but I wasn't sure I could properly mend the injury. At best, I would have a bad limp the rest of my life; at worst, I'd be crippled, and for all intents and purposes, dead. On top of that, I'd have to decide quickly. The blood loss was starting to become noticeable as slow drips of my life liquid began to lightly pool on the dirt ground.

Oh jeez...

I sighed, and partially lowered the pair of revolvers in defeat, holding them at my waist, still pointed in Twilight's direction. She took that as a cue, smiled, and trotted slowly towards my maimed leg. The pony bent her head down low, the horn pointed at the leg, and the glow came up again. I felt the tingling in the limb as she began muttering to herself.

“Torn muscle, broken shin, rapid blood loss, and massive blunt trauma.” as Twilight named off my various ailments, I must have been hallucinating because it seemed her fur was going pale. Could fur even do that? I had no idea.

“Goodness...” Twilight gasped as she brought her head back up, and stared at me in pity. “how in the world are you still awake!?” I blinked at her statement, glanced at the leg, and shrugged.

“Years’ practice?” I chuckled softly. Pricelessly, she gaped at me in shock.

“If you would like,” the larger white pony, Celestia, spoke again. “we can take you to get medical treatment in the castle... mister...?” she trailed off and looked to me expectantly.

“Echoes,” I said. “Dustin Echoes.”

“Well Mr. Echoes,” Celestia continued, “Welcome to...”

Celestia was cut off by a sudden roar.

The two winged and horned ponies, the armored guards around us, and myself turned our heads up to the sky. There was a massive black cloud rising from the horizon... and appeared to be moving towards us!

“Changelings...” Celestia muttered, and then turned towards the guards. “to your stations! Defend Canterlot!”

Now the regal horse turned to Twilight, “Mend his injury, we will need all the help we can get.”

Wait, what!? Suddenly I was dragged into another war! My headache returned with a vengeance, and I clutched my head in pain. Right, don't think about the past! Any protest became impossible with that throbbing.

“Yes Princess!” Twilight said, and started to move down low next to me. “Brace against me. We need to get you inside before I can mend that!”

I didn't argue. Anything to regain the use of my leg.

“Wait,” I said, and looked back at my possessions strewn across the ground. “my stuff.”

“Right,” Twilight yelled for one of the guards, who grabbed everything I pointed out and quickly followed after us as I hobbled next to her.

I looked again to the mass of what Celestia had called 'changelings', and wondered what horror I'd be subjected to next.

Definitely not in the Mojave anymore...

Everything Will Be Fine

Written by Telly Vision

You know those days when weird shit just happens? This was one of those days.

The Courier awoke to the sound of clinging metal and the smell of plants. He slowly opened his eyes only to be met with the harsh rays of the sun.  After a few moments of blinking, he was met with the sight of a large statue garden, oh and he was surrounded by about 50 mutant horse things in what appeared to be Legion armor.

“Well, I can tell this isn’t your typical run of the mill wasteland, look at this, you’ve got grass and everything.” The courier looked around and saw ponies, along with their attire and surroundings.

“Oh isn’t that cute, someone thought it would be cute to dress a pony up like a Legionnaire.”

The courier looked through his things to find he had only his Mark II stealth suit he got from Big Mountain, a few Nuka Colas, two stimpacks and a stick of dynamite.

“Well that’s just great; no food. Hey little guys, can you take me to your owner, I could really use some food and water.”

“We are not little guys,” replied a unicorn in silver armor. “Also we have no owner, we are free ponies of Equestria!”

“Whoa, you can talk!” the courier gasped.

“By order of the princess, you are to be placed under arrest for trespassing. Please state your name, occupation and spices. Failure to cooperate will result in force.” said a Pegasus with gold armor.

“I really shouldn’t have chosen that Wild Wasteland trait, the shit I see just gets weirder and weirder.” Said the courier, taking a good look at his surroundings.

The Pegasus replied with an angry tone.” You will answer the questions, or face serious punishments!”

“God, I’m here for five minutes and already I’ve got someone chewing my head off.” He cursed under his breath. “Anyway you can call me Steve N. StealBurg, funny name now that I think of it. I borrowed it from a pre-war holo-tape director. I am human, and I was a courier for the Mojave Express, but a strange turn of events made me leader of the free New Vegas.”

“My name is First LT. Raining Fire, you have exactly five minutes to explain how you got here before I order my troops to attack.”

“Now come on we can talk about this.” Steve N. reasoned as he tried to back away, only to get cornered in between a hedge and a statue of a weird mixed-matched creature.

“Troops raise your weapons, ready.” Called out the LT. as his troops raised their swords and some unicorns began charging their horns.

“We can be civil about this, what do you say, I have some ice-cold Nuka Cola in my bag!  Why don’t we better acquaint ourselves over a drink?” He stammered, searching his bag for the drinks.

“You will come quietly; you are outnumbered and we possess the most superior weapons in Equestria.” He replied.

“Come now, you have basic swords!  Even the weakest raider could beat you.”

“These are such big words from a creature that backs away into a corner and pleas for mercy.”

“LT., are you sure you want to fight me? I am trained to fight Deathclaws using only boxing gloves. I entered the Second Battle for Hoover Dam with spiked knuckles, where I defeated both Caesar’s legion and the NCR. I have bionic implants that make me faster, stronger and smarter than the average man. Do you really think I can’t take on a few mutant horses armed with nothing but tin swords using only my bare hands?”  Steve N. got into a fighting stance clenching his fists to ready them for an attack.

“Troops, Attack!”

Steve N. jumped forward, punching the closest pony in the face with one hand, while dodging the flame spell of another. He jumped from pony to pony, dodging fire and lightning spells, causing some of them to have a few friendly fire accidents.

He reared back his fist, activating VATS and hitting a pony with the paralyzing palm strike, knocking him out. The LT. and his unicorn Sergeant were in the back of the battle leading their troops when a thought occurred to the lower-ranked officer..

“Sir, is it really a good idea to be fighting this close to the Discord statue?”

“Well, Sergeant, that would be a terrible idea. The princess herself has banned all fighting from occurring near the darn thing. You could be court-martialed for just disagreeing near it. Why do you ask?”

The Sergeant pointed a hoof to the statue with a look of pure terror on his face.

“Oh buck my life.” A rather large crack had appeared on the statue with a dark purple aura escaping from it.

“All troops retreat! Code red, repeat code red!” the pony LT. shouted, waving a frantic hoof.

The remaining troops looked at each other, noticed the statue’s condition, and fled with shouts of terror.

“Come on!” shouted Steve N. on a pile of unconscious ponies.  “Running away so soon?  I’m just getting started!”

“You fool, can’t you see your insistent fighting has released chaos upon us?!”

“Hey I didn’t start it, if anything you attacked me. I don’t even remember how I got here, let alone how I brought ‘chaos’ to your land.” Replied Steve N.

“I’ve had enough out of you!  Sergeant, hit him with a fire spell, I’ll hold him down!”

The LT. tackled Steve N. to the ground and held him in a tight grip with his wings.  “Fire when ready,” he called.

“But sir,” the Sergeant replied, “what if I hit you too?”

“Take that risk Sergeant, for the fate of Equestria!”

The subordinate released his spell, sending a fireball toward the struggling pair.

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m pretty sure it’s not worth getting yourself killed!” Steve N. groaned, pushing the pony off of him.  He pulled out his stick of dynamite and lit it with the same fireball that they had barely dodged.  He chucked it at the now black hole-like crack on the weird statue.

In a slow motion explosion, Steve N. StealBurg walked away from the now scattered rubble of what used to be Discord, with the LT. on his back.  Steve N. walked up to the Sergeant and placed him on the ground.

“Here, this is a stimpack.  Inject him with this and it will cure his wounds.”  The human said as he handed a stim to the unicorn, injecting himself with the other one.

Almost instantly Steve N. StealBurg’s wounds were cured. He slipped into VATS, performing another paralyzing palm strike on the conscious pony, making him pass out.

“Sorry about that, but it had to be done.”

With that the courier left the garden. What was left of the troops had either run away, were passed out, or simply let him pass. Just like the creatures of the Great Divide, they dared not mess with him. He slowly left the garden, walking into the orange sunset laid before them.

When the LT. finally came to, it was said he started a legend. The legend of Steve N. StealBurg, the Courier from New Vegas who could defeat an entire platoon of Celestia’s finest using only his bare hands...