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- >Can't say it was preferable but a group of raiders with access to an assault rifle cache we're spraying you down.
- >Fifteen or so charging up the hill was far too many to take on with a semiauto sniper rifle.
- >Pulling back the nearby brush, revealing a corroded vault door, you pushed through the dead branches and sheet metal as they come over the hill.
- >The door was already open but you had to make sure they wouldn't follow you in.
- >You pressed your rifle's barrel into the console's base and let loose several 308 rounds into the soft metal, shattering glass tubes and and destroying connections.
- >The door leapt to life, several tons of rusty metal, grinding and turning to seal shut.
- >They heard your shots, rifles aiming your way, and letting loose on the entire area.
- >You could hear the patter and clink of low flying bullets bouncing off the ground and into the door.
- >Several objects impacted the armor plates of your stealth suit, one landing in your rear, left leg.
- >Moments later you felt another impact your front right leg, one more in the back left.
- >You cried out in pain as another 5.56 hit in between the plates of your right upper abdomen.
- >Your sprint, turned limping trot, slipped into the steel crevasses of the door and wall.
- >You slump onto the floor into the dark enviornment, door crashing to a halt before gliding inward with a horrible scream.
- >Then silence broken by small patters of blood dripping onto the floor.
- >Your eyes adjust to the dim lights of the tiny concrete and steel room.
- >The one in your chest hurts, armor slowed it down. Not too bad. You've had worse. Legs are holding up, nothing broken.
- >You need to find the medical center. All your supplies and stimpacks are still out there on that hill.
- >Now the jet junkies, outside, scratching on the door are probably playing with them.
- >You keep your eyes peeled, hobbling past each room, smashing the button on the door small streaks of blood painting them.
- >The occasional pile of bones, poor saps in tattered and decayed jumpsuits, greet you from room to room.
- >Is it empty?
- >The whole vault?
- >Nothing but you and the radroaches?
- >This is new.
- >Usually something nasty takes up residence in these things, if not ponies equally as bad.
- >The next door reveals a sizable kitchen, pre-war packages and food litter the shelves.
- >A turn of the knob on a sink and it gurgles to life, water isn't clear but probably drinkable and not irradiated.
- >You slip your muzzle under it tasting strong iron before the ferrous color and taste begin to fade.
- >A glance up in between gulps reveals a sign pointing out of the room labeled "MEDICAL."
- >You shut off the water, rushing to follow it's lead.
- >Just around the corner.
- >Another bloody punch to the switch and you're in.
- >It's been sacked but there's autodocs!
- >They're operating! The terminal is glowing on one of them!
- >You lug yourself over to it, punching keys with exasperated breath.
- >They've got Med-x, anesthesia, and clean surgical components still in stock.
- >Sparse but there's enough.
- >Your rifle's straps slip off your body.
- >You're about to punch in a basic check up when you notice the holodisk reader mounted to the side.
- >You scoff realizing this thing won't have enough memory to catalog certain types of treatments.
- >A lightly blood smeared hoof opens up the holodisk cabinet, scanning the pages for something to assist with gunshot wounds.
- >This one seems to be about shrapnel removal, you can't quite tell.
- >You pop it in and configure it, the world swaying slightly in response to your blood loss.
- >There's some corruption.
- >What you need is still here.
- >"HEAVY LIMB DAMAGE"
- >You can't quite say it's heavy...
- >This shit should, mainly, be general purpose and you need to get these wounds fixed now.
- >A few keystrokes later and the machine receives an answer.
- >You plop down on the cold rusty chrome table pulling off bits of your armor.
- >Two of the machine's small pinchers assist with the rest and guide it off quickly.
- >Your armor clatters to the ground, several IVs are slipped into your upper hoof.
- >You're not sure how old whatever blood its pumping you with is but it still works, surprisingly.
- >Your swimming perception clears up, pain begins to fade, and you eyes start to flutter.
- >Wait... You should be awake... For this...
- >...
- >...
- >Just... have to stay awake.. Get up.
- >Oh Celestia.
- >It put you under? You went under?
- >How long?
- >A lean upward and you find yourself falling back down.
- >Something lurches inside of your stomach.
- >Your breathing shudders as you notice something very wrong.
- >You can't feel your hooves!
- >Nothing!
- >Nothing happens when you wiggle them!
- >You feel something smaller writhe at your sides and contact a soaking wet metal table.
- >Your head tilts to take a look over your body.
- >You feel like you've been struck by a deathclaw.
- >Small stitched stumps flail at your sides.
- >All four hooves are... Just gone.
- >Oh fuck... Oh fuck...
- >You're going to throw up.
- >"No..." Is all you manage to squeak as you wiggle on the table.
- >Tears well up in your eyes a glance over cements your horror, all four limbs piled in a bloodied, rusty, nickel bin.
- >The terminal is topped with a single small caliber round from your chest, deformed and bloody in a similarly small tray.
- >Your armor lays in tatters below you, pieces scattering the ground now useless to your stunted form.
- >You struggle against nothing but the metal slab you lay on shocked at what has become of your body.
- >Tears streaming down your face as you panic and curse Celestia again and again.
- >The terminal illuminates half the room in it's eerie, green, apathetic glow as you struggle to make sense of any of this.
- >You begin to calm, groaning out for help, breathing slowing.
- >You remember the food and water.
- >There's not much to threaten you here.
- >You can be reasonably sure you're safe.
- >...
- >Oh Celestia you're completely fucked.
- >Utterly fucked.
- >You're stuck in here with those chem fueled raiders out there and now you're stuck like this. For good.
- >The blood spatter from the saw is dry on the table, now.
- >You stare blankly into the dull lighting overhead.
- >...
- >Thinking of how helpless you are now...
- >It's for real.
- >You couldn't set hoof outside without getting eaten by something now.
- >Or shot.
- >Or foalnapped.
- >What would other ponies think seeing you like this?
- >Oh Celestia... You can't even stop them from doing what ever they wanted with your body now.
- >Imagining yourself laying in a powerful stallion's soft bed.
- >He smiles, teasing your entrance gently, with his length.
- >Very soon he's inside, pounding away, you as his helpless fucktoy.
- >Finally cumming and filling you up with so many foals no matter what you might want or say.
- >Your womb; his personal cum balloon.
- >You reach forward instinctually reaching for your needy slit but becoming frustrated and fall onto your back.
- >No hooves anymore.
- >You can't reach anything.
- >And you really need it right now.
- >...
- >Stuck like this. Probably permanently.
- >And the first thing you think about is jacking off to stallion fucking you in this state.
- >...
- >You need to get up and moving.
- >You need to know you can do something, not just rot on this slab.
- >Okay going to flip over.
- >A little painful to bear any weight on the ends of your stumps.
- >They're really short.
- >You can't do much with them.
- >You'd probably smash that autodoc into paste if it didn't turn you into this.
- >Almost... And you've flopped onto your belly.
- >You ease your rear stumps off of the chrome slab, body wiggling carefully downward.
- >Oh shit! It's tipping! Drop!
- >You land on your ass, crying out in pain from the dull impact with your recently stitched flesh.
- >Oh Celestia. Fuck. Where were you going to go, now.
- >It feels vulnerable being on the floor like this.
- >Maybe the kitchen.
- >There's food.
- >You need some water.
- >It's a slow and tortuous way. Dragging yourself back along your previous blood trail on painful stumps.
- >But you make it.
- >The door is still open. You probably can't reach the switch.
- >Your gun is still back there.
- >You probably can't use it anymore...
- >A few more painful motions are able to drag you into the kitchen and prop yourself on a floor level cabinet.
- >You take a moment, wiping your eyes with blood stained shoulders.
- >Looking up you find a single box of instamash staring back at you.
- >Panic strikes as you realize you cannot reach.
- >You groan out in the empty room for help.
- >That's when you make it out.
- >Skittering.
- >Oh Shit.
- >Please no.
- >The brown carapace of a fat radroach pops out of a crack in the ceiling.
- >You tense up.
- >Your breathing quickens.
- >It skitters down the support beam, right over the box of mash.
- >The box tips, falling off the counter onto the floor.
- >The roach stops.
- >It's body turns toward you.
- >The roach is walking your way.
- >It's coming at you.
- >"No! Please! Stop!"
- >You snivel and plead as it comes near, stumps flailing.
- >"Don't eat me! Help me! Help! I don't want to die!"
- >The roach's feet patter across your flesh as it climbs your torso, approaching your head.
- >"It's going to bite me! Help! please! Somepony!"
- >It takes you a moment to realize the dumb thing has completely passed over your shivering body.
- >Making it's way up the counter toward some faintly glowing mushrooms sprouting out of a small hole.
- >You sniffle briefly before taking the opportunity to flop onto the mash box, grabbing it in your mouth, and scooting off at a snails pace.
- >You were helpless enough that a radroach could have been dangerous.
- >Your shoulders slink up, ears flopped down, burning in shame.
- >More tears come as you work your way back to the medical slab, instamash box in your mouth.
- >You still need to find a way to open it.
- >You won't last a week like this.
- >...
- >Perk "Limbless" added
- >All other perks removed.
- >Agility -10
- >Strength -9
- >Lockpick, Medicine, Repair, Science, and Sneak reduced to 0
- >Carry weight reduced to 25
- >Seek out cybernetic enhancement to reduce the debilitating effects of permanently crippled limbs.
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