When the Bombs Fell

"In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, Man's destructive nature could contain itself no longer. The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire, and radiation."

October 23, 2077 CE

Saturday, 12:00 AM

P.L.A.N Submarine Shi-Huang-ti

2 Miles off the coast of California

Admiral Deng xia-Ming folded his arms behind his back as he marched stiffly along the submarine's cramped corridors. Passing sailors merely nodded at him, for there was not enough space for a proper dignified salute.

At last the Admiral reached the bulkhead door of the Shi-Huang-ti CIC. Opening the door, Deng was greeted by the murmuring of officers and sailors, as well as the glow of computer terminals and information screens.

Many of the men paced back and forth to and from their stations, while others manned the terminals, relaying data and orders back and forth. Upon noticing the Admiral's presence, most of them stopped, stood and saluted.

"Shao xi!" He said loudly. "At ease."

They all returned to normal at once. Deng approached the middle of the Command Center, turning his focus on the glowing tactical map in front of him. His Lieutenant stood next to him, peering at the Admiral intently.

With a clearing of his throat, the man said, "Admiral Ming. We have just received our firing solutions from Beijing. Chairman Cheng wishes to speak with you before we commence."

Deng only nodded, then ran a hand over his balding head. "Put Comrade Cheng on the screen, Lieutenant."

The man complied, and relayed the order to a technician. The main view screen switched on, showing a black and white image of an older short haired man with an elaborate goatee and beard.

"Admiral. Good morning to you. Are your men prepared to serve the ultimate duty for the People's Republic?" Cheng inquired. The Admiral's old face was as stern as ever. "More than you can imagine, Chairman. I, and I'm sure many of my devoted men, have meditated on what we are about to do. We are more than prepared for our task."

The Chairman's eye lit up, and he beamed. "Ahh, that is grand to hear, Admiral. I understand you have received your instructions?" Ming nodded once, slowly.

"Grand, positively grand. I just wanted you all to know, the people of the Republic salute your braveries. Great China is being overrun by these Imperialist dogs, and we shall not allow this grandest of insults to go unpunished. That is all, Admiral. When we next speak, the world shall be a much different place. Hail the People's Republic!"

"Duiyu dongshi zhang zheng!" Everyone shouted in unison. "For Chairman Cheng!"

Cheng grinned before the screen finally went black. With the Chairman gone, everyone's faces of triumph and determination fell into ones of dread and anticipation.

The Admiral reciprocated his crew's feelings, but knew he had a duty to fulfill, regardless of the grand scale of the costs. He would rather die a dutiful soldier, then an oath-breaking renegade.

The Lieutenant snapped him rudely out of his thoughts. "Admiral, the American pigs are giving no indication they are aware of us. We have them deaf and dumb."

"Vector in the firing solutions to the targeting computers." Admiral Ming ordered to the Lieutenant. He bowed, and complied. As he input the coordinates, the technicians echoed their confirmations.

"Target, United State Military Base Mariposa, confirmed."

"Target, Los Angeles, confirmed."

"Pasadena and Burbank, confirmed."

"Target, San Francisco, confirmed."

"San Diego, confirmed."

"Sacramento, confirmed."

The Lieutenant nodded, and looked up from his terminal. "Admiral Ming, all targets within range on the western seaboard are locked in."

"Warheads primed." Another technician shouted.

Deng gave a long sigh, and walked to the main control console for their nuclear payloads. His Lieutenant was already there, and had his key raised and ready. Drawing out his own, Admiral Ming began humming to himself.

"Quiet now little fox. Summer hath come and gone." He hummed in Mandarin. "Sleep now, little fox, for Winter dawns."

At that fateful moment, both men inserted their keys, and the sirens began flaring all throughout the vessel. Drawing in a deep breath, Deng removed his key, turned to the Lieutenant, and muttered.

"I desire some fresh air. I'm going topside." His fellow officer gave him a worried look, but did not move to stop the old man. As Admiral Ming slowly marched through the corridors and bulkheads, up to the gun deck, he felt the submarine rumble as their missiles exited their silos, intent on reaching their targets.

He rushed out of the main hatch, and clambered onto the surface, breathing in the salty ocean air. A few sailors already out on the deck saluted him, and returned to their duties, unaware of the missiles' true targets, assuming them to be far and distant.

On the horizon, the lights of San Francisco gleamed before Deng. He took in the scene, standing there, just drawing breath.

After 5 minutes, he heard them, not just the Shi-Huang-ti's missiles, but more, hundreds more. Accompanying them, were the drones of low flying heavy bombers.

The air raid sirens of the city blared out to him at sea, the combined sounds made his heart race with anxiety and dread. After another two minutes past, It all happened at once.

The lights of San Francisco were blotted out and replaced by a different kind of light, the light of a thousand suns. The Great War, the final war, had at last commenced. The Admiral was witnessing the final moments of the Western United States of America. Thus did the bombs fall.

Deng shielded his eyes as best he could, but he refused to turn away. The sailors near him let out yells and shouts, trying to get the Admiral to go with them back below deck. He did not budge. They at last gave up, and reluctantly sealed the hatch behind them.

As he stood, facing the detonations, the sounds of the impacts at last reached him across the Bay. They nearly blew his ears out were it not for the safeguards built into his hat. The sounds were accompanied by a roar, a tidal wave of dust, ash, and seawater generated by the great explosions. It was heading straight for them.

When the great light turned at last to mushrooms of smoke and ash, Deng could finally see the city again. It's many buildings that still stood were a aglow in an inferno, that would likely rage for months.

The wave drew closer, but not before Deng got the chance to witness yet another major event. Hundreds of missiles streaked out from the horizon. American 'Minutemen' class intercontinental ballistic missiles. They were heading straight towards Asia. China, and the Soviet Union.

Just as the tidal wave rolled into the Shi-Huang-ti, The Admiral continued humming free verse to himself. "Fret not, little fox. Winter has past. But what is this? Spring comes naught? Go little fox, find the dragon, return Spring to us! For we miss her. O' Dear Spring, when shall thou return? Shall we be bound to Winter eternal, little fox? Do hurry dear little fox, for the world is weary of long Winter."

His last thoughts were of his distant home, as the heat of the ash and the boiling water took him. Elsewhere, other parts of the Pre-War world followed suit. A raging firestorm would come to grip the globe, unstoppable, and inescapable to those still on its surface.

When the sun had finally risen in the sky many hours later, it struggled to shine through the choking ash now clinging to California's atmosphere. The light that made it through, shined upon the now brackish water of what remained of San Francisco Bay. On one of the beaches, sat the scuttled former Chinese nuclear submarine Shi-Huang-ti.

After many hours of silences amidst the visage of the still burning city, a loud metallic sound pierced the ember filled air. The main hatch on the gun deck cranked open, and several men emerged, equipped with gas masks. They peered at what remained of Pre-War San Francisco.

They city they helped to destroy, ironically, was to be their inheritance, and their legacy. A legacy for the new world that would be born from the toxic ash that now fell, like fresh gray snow, on their lead-lined suits. Fallout, as it were. A seemingly endless, gray winter, with no promise of spring.

Let me tell you, I do a lot of fanfics for MLP: FIM, but after getting into Fallout: Equestria, my fascination with Fallout and the Great War has only grown again since I first picked up Fallout 3 a couple of years back. That fascination, led to this brief story.

I hope this story honors Fallout's lore and history properly.