Fallout Equestria: SIDEQUEST

"And now- a tap dance."

We were well and truly fucked. Outnumbered, with more ghouls staring us down than we had bullets. Me and Twelve stared at the ghouls, and they stared back at us. A thrum sounded under our hooves, a loud sound that was felt rather than heard...

A loud "thromm" that caused the mass of ghouls to twitch as one and fixate even further upon us. A train whistle sounded in the darkness, a moment of perfect silence as the group stared us down. I could feel Twelve-Power shaking against my back, a blue glow forming around my horn as I drew Lil' Bloom and Air's Hammer, checking the loads in each before taking Applebucker's bit into my mouth.

Behind me, a semicircle of bright mint light illuminated from Twelve as she presumably drew both of her ten millimeter automatics swiped off the dead pilots. There was no noise for several seconds as a wind whipped up. I blinked a little as I felt Twelve shift, and peered back to see her standing on her hind legs with hooves planted wide, automatics trained as she held her rifle in both hooves. I smirked and pulled Applebucker from its mount, shifting and standing in much the same manner, only a little more wobbly.

We stood and stared at them, and they stared at us, one pawing at the ground or screaming in rage every now and then, before one took a step forward, and then another, and broke out into a dead run... There was a curiously quiet 'WHOOMP' from Twelve's rifle, and the ghoul's head exploded, pitching it ass over teakettle as it continued traveling forward. At the crack, a squalling rose from the massing crowd before they all rushed...

"Shit shit shit shit FUCK!" I cried out as I impulsively bit down on Applebucker's rein, the shotgun roaring and spitting dragon's fire as the shot blew apart a ghoul's chest. The thing exploded into paste and tiny chunks a second later, bone shrapnel riddling its neighbors. "Bad day bad day bad day!"

"Keep calm! Keep shooting! Line up headshots or limb shots! It's the only way to kill them!" Twelve screamed as her ten millimeters cracked, two ghouls toppling and rolling as they were shot through the knees. "Stay! Calm!"

I took a shaky breath and looked forward, tongue pushing the bit in my mouth into a more stable and comfortable position in my mouth. The laser played over the advancing horde as I took a deeper breath, closing my eyes and biting down on the bit. The gun jumped in my hooves, and another ghoul was tossed back, pasting a couple seconds later.

Suddenly... I heard a noise. Music. A familiar melody. ".. Oh.. Celestia.. No.." One hoof stamped. I had no choice. I had to. Once the music entered me, I simply had to. A little shuffle and my balance was assured, a deep breath inward before I spat out the bit and shifted my hold on the shotgun. To my surprise, it had been built to accomodate this, it had a sort of lever that I could actuate with a forehoof.

"Honor Fair lived in Walkin Street, a gentle Eponimane mighty odd!" Crash went the big gun, another ghoul chunking a second later as my hooves tapped out a familiar beat against the cobbles.

"He seen a brogue both rich and sweet, an' to rise in the world he carried a hod!" At this point I fiddled with the hoof supporting the shotgun, before finding the lever to recock it with a hearty 'tha-chunk!'

"Honor had a sort of a tipplin' way, with a love of the liquor now he was born." Lil Bloom roared, and half a ghoul's face was torn away.

"Help him on with his work each day, had a "drop of the cray-chur" every morn." Air's Hammer barked three times in quick succession, riddling the skull of another ghoul with little holes.

I was surprised with Twelve joining in on the refrain. One of her forelegs took mine behind the joint, and we whirled around in a sort of dance to face the opposite direction, trading a blast of our weapons for a snatch of song.

"Whack fol the da O! Dance to your partner,"

"Welt the floor, your trotters shake;”

"Wasn't it the truth I told yeh? Lots of fun at Honor Fair's wake!"

Both of us had massive grins, stamping our hooves in time to the music, before a foalish notion overtook me and I grabbed her much the same way she had me. Now that we were locked in forelegs, I lead her through a simple hoof-step reel, modified for the differed stance.

The crowd of ghouls was still massive, still approaching.. Runners broke off every now and again and we held our fire to just those that ran at us, hoping that eventually they'd get bored and run off. "One mornin Fair felt rather full, his head felt heavy which made him shake;" I knew the feeling!

Another blast from the shotgun took two ghouls, adding to the semi-circle of gore and bodies around us. "Fell from a ladder and he burst his skull, so they carried him home his corpse to wake!"

"Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet, laid him out upon the bed!" I noticed one of them had dropped a truncheon, and I grinned as I lifted it up in my magic, stowing Air's Hammer.

"A gallon of whiskey at his feet, a barrel of porter at his head." Twelve shifted in her stance to kick in a ghoul's head as I broke the neck of another with my nightstick.

"Whack fol the da O, dance to your partner,"

"Welt the floor, your trotters shake;"

"Wasn't it the truth I told you?"

"Lots of fun at Honor Fair's wake!"

We grinned at one another through the increasingly complicated dance, punctuating every few hoofbeats with gunfire, managing to somehow hold off the horde for now.

"His friends assembled at the wake, and Missus Fair called for lunch." I bit back revulsion as a ghoul managed to get his teeth around my foreleg, biting at the armor plating in Sapper's military barding.

"First they brung in tea and cake; then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch!" I brought down Little Bloom's barrel on his skull, and squealed in delight as a bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes fell out of his barding pockets. I lit one off Applebucker's glowing barrel, snapped the cap off the bottle and downed half of it, before giving the rest to Twelve-Power.

I laid a hoof across my chest and looked at Twelve as I sang the next bit. "Beadai Uí Briain began to cry, "Such a clean corpse did you ever see...""

Twelve smirked and lashed out with a hoof as she replied. "Fair avourneen, why didja die?"... Arragh, shut your gob!" said Paddy McKie!"

"Whack fol the da O, dance to your partner,"

"Welt the floor, your trotters shake;"

"Wasn't it the truth I told you?"

"Lots of fun at Honor Fair's wake!"

We laughed again, and tapped horns, before bowing and whirling away from one another, laying about with the stocks of our long guns. "Patty O'Connor took up the job... "Ah Beadai," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"."

"Beadai gave her a belt in the gob, then left her sprawlin' on the floor!" Jaws and skulls made horrific cracking noises as we slammed around us, trying to keep our flesh out of the zombies' stomachs.

"Then the war did soon enrage, stallion to stallion and mare to mare!"

"Shillelagh-law was all the rage, and a row and a ruction soon began!" At this range most of our bigger firearms were useless, so I took shots with Little Bloom, Twelve opening up with her automatics.. But for the most part it really was shillelagh-law by now- we used whatever melee weapons the ghouls dropped, with varying degrees of success. I had a healthy glow of alcohol in my belly, but nothing could bolster me at this point. We were fucked.

"Mornin Dove lowered 'us head, and a bottle of whiskey flew at him.."

"Missed, and fallin' on the bed, the liquor scattered over Hon!"

We leaned against one another, puffing and blowing as those we hadn't killed dead enough.. Started getting up with discordant squeals that grated down the spine. "... Fair revives! See how he rises... Honor Fair risin' from the bed... Sayin' "Whirl your liquor around like blazes.. Thunderin' Epona! Do you think I'm dead?"

We turned and saluted one another, downing a bottle of booze each picked off bodies, before turning away from one another, hopping from ghoul to ghoul and continuing our complicated reel.

"Whack fol the da O, dance to your partner,"

"Welt the floor, your trotters shake;"

"Wasn't it the truth I told you?"

"Lots of fun at Honor Fair's wake!"

I blinked as a bullet ripped through the plating on my chest. Bullets? I didn't see any guns wielded by the ghouls. I blinked and opened my eyes as I worked the trigger. A blue-coated mare was tossed back by the shot, glaring up at me before she exploded. At such a range, I was splattered with... chunky pony... I wiped my face with a hoof, staring dumbly at the scrap of flesh that had landed on my muzzle. A cutie mark was on the furred side- a pneumatic chisel.

"MOM! FUCK!" I dropped everything. I couldn't handle this. I didn't know how. But I'd just murdered my mother. Then I began to notice the surroundings had changed sharply. Closer. Walls, no fountain. This was a junction of four "streets" in 105. "... I can fix this... I... No..." No, no I couldn't.

I just sat there in the center of the splatter that had been my mom, staring at the floor and ignoring the battle of Stable ponies roiling around me. The L3 Whites must be at it with the L4 Blacks again. Whatever. I'd just murdered the mare that had raised me.

I looked up when I felt a hoof on my shoulder. Celestia? No... That was Twelve, haloed by the lights. "... Go away, Twelve. If I'm lucky, I'll get capped by a ganger. I killed my mom..."

I blinked at her as she shook her head and shoved me. "... No. It's... Complicated. None of this is real. We have no name for this, it's... a creature that feeds by breaking its victims through manipulating their memories. You probably have this somewhere... And it made you kill your mother. It wants you to sit down and die."

"... So... What then?"

"We have to find it, in one of your memories. If it's hostile. Kill it. The Ranger's way is the only way that works on these creatures."

I blinked and stared at her like she was crazy, before grinning widely. "I get it. Blank check to kill anything. Anything else I need to know?"

"It'll try to make you stop. It'll fabricate something from bits and pieces in your head, it'll use traumatic memories, good memories. It might lead you through some of mine. Don't eat anything. It will try to trap you in the dream, the memory, until you die, and then it will wait until you're squishy before eating you. It has no mercy, so neither should you."

"Trippy shit, bad memories, people I know, your head, my head, don't drink the water. Got it."

Twelve nodded, and looked around, before looking at me expectantly. "Well. Gonna lead us out of this? I'm a little lost here. Surface pony, and all that."

I laughed a little and settled Applebucker back on its mount, tapping the bit with my tongue as it reconnected. "Alright. I know right where we are. Will these ponies bother us? Are they just window dressing?"

"We might want to be careful. If either of us dies, we'll be trapped. And yeah... They will shoot at us. Should be easy to escape though."

I nodded and pointed, before ducking into a hatch and letting it snap shut. "If this is a memory, it's from the first riot I saw. The ponies of level four battling with the ponies of level three over a sublevel between the two."

She raised an eyebrow at me as she tipped the magazine out of one of her automatics, checking the load, before sliding it back in. "So... Wait, why? Aren't Stables supposed to be peaceful, otherwise things start falling apart?"

I shook my head as I pushed a crate to reveal the cover for a ventilation duct. Sapper's barding luckily held a toolkit. I loved this bitch the more I learned about her. Snapping it open and fitting a socket wrench together to start pulling off the vent, I glanced back at Twelve. "Well... In other Stables maybe. But fighting is in our blood, and the little gang spats and such tend to keep things relatively peaceful. If it weren't for those little fights, these pretty little riots, it would probably explode."

She looked incredulous, before nodding. "Makes sense. Where does this lead to?"

"Well if you can get into the ducts, you can go all through the Stable if you know what you're doing. Keeps Security from following you, too, the tags work screwy in Ventilation. I know a place where we can hide out while we figure out something to do."

Cover off and tools put away, I stared into the space before me, biting my lip. If this creature used dreams to kill... Would it find my nightmare? I shook a little bit as I tucked Applebucker into my saddlebag, tugging it off and holding it in my mouth as I wriggled into the vent. "It'll be a little tight, but you should fit."

I heard a muffled note of assent as she followed, with her bags held in her teeth and rifle collapsed and tucked into one of them. Checking my map, I nodded a little bit, and began to crawl.

Some time passing found us sitting in a store room, having crawled through the ventilation ducts without much incident aside from Twelve getting stuck once or twice. I pursed my lips as I slid the top off a case and found it empty. Not only empty, but there was only space about three inches down, and then blackness. "... What the hell?"

They get lazy sometimes. Creating a full world for you is difficult work. Two ponies, even more. To even have held it together this long, it would have to be a strong one indeed."

"... Okay. We're still good here, even though there's no chems here. We can think."

"Who do you think it is impersonating? And no, we're not really safe anywhere. It knows where we are, no matter what. It's just a matter of making the dream pursue us."

"Well obviously it's not my mother. There's really only one other pony it would impersonate. One pony left that's important to me."

Twelve-Power looked at me as she pieced her rifle back together, snapping the safeties off on her automatics before stowing them in holsters on the shoulders of her pristine fatigues. Emblazoned on the chest was the Stable-Tek logo I knew well, along with a pair of crossed sniper rifles and a pony skull denoting her specialization. "Well then. It knows where we are, but you have a good idea as to where it is."

I nodded, and keyed in a tag on the Pipbuck's personnel tracker. Silk Spun.

This Stable was my home. But it was the home from my nightmares, not the real one. The scale was all wrong- 105 was a 'Big Macintosh' type, and it was because of its city size, constant expansion, and social diversity that we had been as successful as we had been. But in my nightmares each corridor was a mile long...

It took us far longer than it should have to travel to the next level. The hatch was locked, naturally, but if you knew the way of it (like I did) this proved no big difficulty. A little fiddling with the pneumatics, and the door gave a hiss and slid open with a clatter and a thunk. Onward, then, to the Overmare's office.

The next corridor was... Full of ponykins. Best I can describe it. Tall, slender, pale-white. Just... Standing there, without a base to support them. A loud thrum echoed through my skull. Music? I shook my head and continued on. "Spanner, wait. Don't touch th-..." I'd turned to look at my companion, and bumped into one. It hissed loudly, before... It looked like I was viewing it across hot blacktop- it was all wavy like that. It solidified, and was no longer featureless. It looked like me. I looked like shit.

"This is what they do when you're not looking. They only make things real directly in front of you. Only the ponies you see are featured. The rest are.. Placeholders. It should snap back if you ignore it."

I turned and watched it through the corner of my eye, the simulacrum stood back up and froze before all its features melted away. "Right. Well. Her office isn't far from here." Indeed, it was right down this corridor, lit up like Hearth's Warming with a sign out front saying what the room was.

We took up positions on either side of the door, and nodded to one another before I tripped the door. It slid open, and we both rushed into the office. I heard.. Noises. Wet squelching, whimpers of pain, and small sounds of pleasure. Mechanical ticking. My eye itched as it began to bleed, I was unable to do anything but sit and stare as Cutthroat sodomized Silk Spun in her own bed. My best friend and the bitch that fucked me up.

I felt sick to my stomach, my heart pounded in my ears, and as I stared, the thing changed the scene before me. Clinic. Examination table. Pressed against the wall was not Silky but a smaller filly... with an electric-blue forelock. Cutthroat wasn't Cutthroat, she was the Earth stallion that ran the clinic. I could hear his disgusting words now as I did then. My jaw tightened on the bit as his expression turned to one of immense effort. The eye that turned to me was not that hateful violet, but teal, and there was no pupil, no iris, simply a crosshair.

I furrowed my brow, confused, before letting the bit fall from my mouth.

"It might impersonate you, your mother, me."

I turned to face Twelve where she'd been standing. And recoiled, pressing back towards the wall as I came muzzle to muzzle with.... It was tall. Very tall. Crowding out the space of the clinic, taller than Celestia... Thin, wire-thin like a ponykin. Delicate looking. No fur, but a stringy mane and tail that hung heavily, partially obscuring its face, that face split with an impossible grin of needle-sharp teeth and the tongue that pressed out hungrily from between to moisten those lips. Black, just like its skin. Eyes like red coals, with three specks I took to be pupils.

"Oooh you figurred it oout alllll on your own. You're a smart one, aren't you! Not much meat to you. Eh. You'll do for a SNACK!" It had a chattering method of speech and a laugh that grated down my spine, caused chills through my whole body. As it lunged with impossible quickness, I felt forelegs surround me and a horn touch mine. A brief buzzing felt with my whole body, and the last I saw was a look of confusion on the thing's face as it too fell into Twelve...

"NO FAIR CHEATING!"

Chapter 6, Part B. Science.

"Perhaps a little crazy, but not insane..."

Silence. Darkness. Warmth. No, no silence, no darkness. Noise and sudden light. What was it? Where were we? Who- no, that question is forbidden. "Good morning, Twelve-Power."

"I'm not Twelve-Power. Not yet. Still Bonbon, still haven't caught the trick of it." We sat up, my nose twitching to the smell of... candy. Myself looked over at me, still asleep, and smiled a bit as myself stroked my mane. "Wake up, Twelve-Power."

A mumble issued from the blanket-coccooned self under my hoof that myself took to be 'still Lyra', and myself giggled a little bit to myself. "Science shall soon solve that, dear self. Now make with the waking up, myself going to make We some breakfast."

Artificial alicorns? I often thought while talking to myself that this project was ludicrous. But then... Science made all possibilities a reality, eventually. Just took a little... Letting the reins go to the unfolding. A little faith, tossing off the diseased programming of centuries took time.

Myself smiled and rolled out of bed, shifting myself's weight a little bit. Had myself put on some? Maybe. A little. Myself'd been too thin after treatments, and myself was supposed to add bulk to the alicorn in the end. In any rate, myself found myself's coat fit quite nicely as it always did, buttoned up one side of myself's chest smartly. "Wake up, wake up. Myself going to wake up I, get me dressed."

Myself pushed open the smart little door onto the circular living space circlecirclecirclelikeasoftenedtriangle and tapped on the smart little door exactly like myself and me's on the other side of We's neat little bunker. Science had failed We's mother Earth, and now We was forced to share this tiny space with naught but me, myself, and I. A soft mumble from within, and myself pushed open the door.

Myself and I were closer, despite me and myself being sweethearts sweethearts- like a candy saccharineisourlove from long past, before fire rained from the sky and myself was but only a little beyond foalhood. When myself and I were in close proximity a strange thing happened. I saw a creamy Earth pony with a navy blue and pink mane in cute little curls that never left nevernevernever silhouetted in the soft lights from the living space. Myself saw a single eye peering out from under the bed under a mane of flames and framed in yellow. I had lost the other during the War and had it replaced with a shiny new metal one all of a crosshair.

The doubling was due to us sharing sensory information. Poor I had had a run-in with Changelings before the War and had never been quite right; nearly hooked up with the Hive but saved from that...

"Time to wake up, wake up. Twelve-Power."

"Spitfire. L... Lew... Lieutenant.. Jet forces..."

I knelt down and peered under the bed with that soft little smile. "No, the War is over. No more fire, no more bullets, no more death. Just me, myself, and I."

"Don't touch me. You.. Stick. Stick to me. I.. no."

"Lead says we can do it. Her daughter did it, and she was just but a foal."

"You're insane, Bomb. Bomb.. bombomb..."

"No more burningburning napalm. No more chemicals dropped on innocents..."

I scowled a little and crawled out from under the bed. Myself and I both looked bad. I had been burned badly during the War. Some ponies are destined to go fast. Some ponies are able to handle the 'boom. Some ponies don't 'boom with color, some 'boom with a flare of fire that consumesconsumesconsumes and all that can be done is remove the tissue. Myself had been... No, no, no. Individuality needs must be squashed and squished and rendered as if tossed in a blender. Myself and I felt a tugging-tug at our heads, causing us both to snap up. Me was calling to us in that brain-itching way she had of total silence. Time for breakfast.

"I'm awake, myself and I shall be right out." I smiled just a touch, the ghost of a smile gracing the lips. Myself turned, and I saw it, the little flounce of tail there was. "Myself thinks that We should have another session today. Thinking together."

"I don't like the helmet. St.. Stole my thoughts, giving me yours instead. Unnatural. Just like you sti-sticking to me."

"Yes, well. How else shall we be Alicorn if we do not smelt together?"

Myself and I turned towards the door. The door slid open, and myself stumbled a little. Unthinking, I reached out to catch myself an-

SPIRIT MOVES THROUGH ALL THINGS

SPIRIT MOVES THROUGH ALL THINGS

SPIRIT MOVES THROUGH ALL THINGS

SPIRIT MOVES THROUGH ALL THINGS

SPIRIT MOVES THROUGH ALL THINGS

Chapter 6, Part C. Attack!

Up there, the world is divided into bastards and suckers. Your choice.

In recent years, the steel beasts used in the Equestrian Civil War went back into service. Factories churned them out just as many as we had raw material for. As a lieutenant of the Royal Equestrian Air Force, I had been assigned one. The only thing that could move faster than a pegasus.

Thunder

Painted across the wings. A smiling pony with a nuclear trefoil symbol for a cutie mark rode astride the device known colloquially as an 'egg'. My baby, the MAw Thunder-220, was being outfitted to carry one of these. Looking forward, this was to be the final days of the war started over the assassination attempt on Princess Celestia and the sabotage of the Royal Wedding.

I watched, suit zipped up tight against the chill as workponies fueled the sleek things. I could hear whispers from what had been done to me. The minds of these ponies murmuring to themselves. I wanted it gone, but it was the only reason I was being allowed to fly this mission.

"Lieutenant, because of your unique biology, you have been-" An orange pegasus barely a mare.

"To be perfectly clear, short, and blunt with you Spitfire. Because I respect you." That kid... something Dash. She'd once been a clear candidate for the Wonderbolts before this all started. "You're fucked in the head by what they did to you. You're part... Bug. You know where they live. The geeks over at the Ministry of Science have delivered us with the Lightmass Bomb. You will take this present to Queenie, and leave it at her door. Clear?"

".. Aye sir."

This day, two months later. I waved to my wingman, she tipped me a salute and leaned against the struts of her own aircraft. The others nodded respectfully as they pulled away their trappings and left me to my plane. Flaring my wings and hopping a little, I settled in my seat and strapped myself in the harness. Next came the helmet and the breathing mask. I waved a hoof to the lieutenant as we taxied alongside one another. Local VHF radio.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Breathing each other's lives... Holding this in mind... "If we fall, we all fall."

"And we fall alone."

"Shadowbolt Tower, this is Rising Sun. Requesting permission for takeoff on flight mission Hail Faust."

"Shadowbolt Tower, this is Delivery Mare. Requesting permission for takeoff to accompany Rising Sun."

"Delivery Mare, Rising Sun, this is Shadowbolt Tower. Permission granted, taxi to Runway Six. Godspeed, everypony here in Shadowbolt Tower's got their hooves crossed for your safe return."

Now came the fun part. Our planes were each equipped with powerful engines of an experimental design affording a massive increase in flight speed and maneuverability. However, takeoff was more 'launch' and required a procedure known as 'Runway Six'- the craft was essentially slingshot into the air. Good instruments, the fins and stabs wiggled at me. I pulled down my visor and waved 'ready' to the attendants. One nodded, and my jets ignited and idled as tension built, before throttling up. The jet strained against the blocks holding the gear, it wanted to go and Six wanted to throw it... There was a jolt as the blocks released suddenly, bringing me from 0 to over 600 knots and accelerating in half a second, launching me skyward faster than most pegasi.

Our mission was simple. Fly to the location revealed to be the main Changeling hive on the border of Zebrica by unicorn remote-viewers and corroborated by interrogation of captured combatants. Then, we were to deliver our present to the Queen, General Thaumic's new weapon named 'Lightmass'. The specs on the bomb were incredible. The hive would be destroyed, with no survivors of enemy combatants on-site and total destruction of everything within fifty meters of the site. The land would be salted, so nothing could ever return.

If only things were ever simple.

I began to feel a buzz, the mind of the hive below and before us. A dome, the size of a hoofball stadium and sheathed in concrete, rising above the trees. FLAK positions spotted us and their guns swiveled towards us, that rhythmic thumping that made every pilot wet their suits beginning. We proved too fast for their shells, the concussions falling somewhere behind us. Buzz turned to a whisper, and then a frantic klaxon sounded in the dash in front of me. A rather calm voice stated 'Missile Lock'.

Shit. I craned my neck to see who had flagged me, before pulling up almost vertical to dump speed. I didn't get a good look at the bogey before I clicked on the cannons and ripped off its wings like a fly, but I saw enough to determine it was Zebrican. Hopefully captured. I wondered where they'd gotten these toys... I torqued the throttle. More speed. Too close to be brought down. The whisper died down, as I realized what I'd done. It was so easy from the cold insincerity of these steel machines. You didn't think about it, you just killed.

Time to drop the pesticides.

"Delivery Mare, laze the target."

"No. I'm sorry, Spitfire, but this is the way it's gotta be." What? DAKK-DAKK-DAKK. Cold, precise. One short burst from behind. The shells chewed through my tail, and I heard the sickening crump as my engine exploded. Trailing black smoke and leaning to the left and down. Away from target. A plane blasted by me, and was gone in a second. A MAw A-40 painted jet black. My wingman. Lieutenant Ditzy Doo had betrayed me, and destroyed her country.

I was shot up pretty bad, and a annoying fucking noise told me someone else was trying to tag me. Probably SAM sites with my luck. Whispering in my head. I looked towards the hive, and bit my lip to keep me conscious from the G's. I had a job to do. I thumped a lever, feeling a kick from the bottom of the aircraft as the bomb began to drop. I hit another button, setting my powerplant to detonate itself and turn my plane into a makeshift bomb of its own. I jammed the lever to hold the craft as steady as possible, to provide distraction for the SAM and flak sites.

I took a deep breath and kicked open the canopy, causing it to flick up and be torn off by the wind. Wings tucked, I climbed onto the seat and leapt as hard as I could, throwing myself up and away from the aircraft. Wings unfurled, I took a slow breath as I powered myself forward, up to where the bomb was dropping, slowed by its spin. I grabbed the thing on the way by and forced it up. I was going to hoof-deliver it.

The pain was incredible, the load was much too heavy and I'd been burned by the jets' exhaust. I grit my teeth and powered through it, carrying my present back towards the dome and diving. Dreaming of the day that we attack. Attack, attack, attack with pesticides. Attack, all your years of propaganda, Queenie. Attack, your fetal servitude. I closed my eyes as shells burst around me. Too far, missing me, grazing off the casing I held, individual pieces of shrap ripping through me. I grit my teeth as I opened them again. Close enough to pull up. I let go, and the bomb fell through the ceiling of the dome some ten meters below as I pulled into the sky. Mission complete. I poured on the speed, to escape the fallout.

Buzzing, hissing, murmurs, and now shrieks in my mind. I saw through countless eyes, heard with countless ears. The hive made contact. I could see the sky between my hooves, and observe as the missile dropped. Ten. Nine. Eight...

I grit my teeth as a cone began to form. Seven, six, five. I leaned into it and pushed against it. Four, three, two. The Sonic Rainboom is a legend. The dangerous practice of 'booming' is not. It is when a pegasus pushes themselves so hard the laws of physics throw up their hooves in defeat. Easiest done during times of duress. One. There was a flash behind me, and I heard the dying screams as the fire rushed through the catacombs and incinerated those minds touching mine. I wept, as the barrier snapped with a flash of red. I was burning, but I was headed towards friendly territory, alive.

When I finally dropped, the flames had to be amputated from my body, having already consumed a tenth. Books will illustrate what we already know about this day. Celestia herself stated that the use of thaumological weaponry to utterly destroy the Changeling threat was necessary. I still hear the screams as they tried to shield the children. What's the philosophy in displaced mines?

The retaliation from the Zebra nations was swift, for the attack. Caesar himself stated his forces would attack all the Equestrian homes and villages. Attack all the schools and hospitals. I was transformed into a muted dream of myself for my services to my nation. Ditzy's betrayal was never discovered. The first shot engineered by the Enclave to take power had been fired. Equestria had bombed another sovereign nation without provocation. We now faced a war on two fronts. Raising our flags along the polluted coasts of the world, posturing against those who had once been allies.

I shall attack.

Chapter 6, Part D. The Press Conference Rag.

Trixie. In my office. Ranting about some insanity while pacing. "I assure you, Twilight is not stealing your research. She has no interest in the impelled mutation potion, or its constituents. And why do you have your filly with you? This is the third time this month."

"I can't leave her alone... She's big enough where she will cry with whomever is watching her, or follow me. I am sorry, Project Lead. I need to be granted leave to bring her in with me. I'm.. Worried. They're saying the Ministries may collapse, is that true?"

"Yes. The Princesses are blaming one another for the war in the Zebrican mountains going so badly, and taxing the ministries in a million different directions. Any change in Patient-303?"

"The Wonderbolt? No.. But she is showing improvement despite total consumption of ten percent of her body mass and the numerous injuries she sustained during her mission and prior to retrieval." The unicorn said these words as if relating to me the projected weather patterns for the day. Total cold detachment from the information. It scared me sometimes how little she cared.

"Trixie... Beatrix. Doctor Moon. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, Doctor Heart. It's just..." I raised my eyebrow as she looked about the room, before down at the white pegasus hiding behind her forelegs. Ah, to be a mother. I wondered if.. "My worries are unfounded, but she speaks a lot of nonsense. She could get the OIA involved, and then..." I understood.

"I shall speak with her briefly, and then call a press conference. No mention of the Enclave shall be made, we're going to blame dissident elements within the Ministry of Awesome."

The conference went off without a hitch. Spitfire implicated Lieutenant Doo in the attack on Deep-Space Listening Post Alpha-Epsilon. She made no reference to the Enclave, and did not blame bad intel. She claimed that Doo had held the coordinates, with herself not knowing exactly where they were going, and that she had been lead astray. That Doo had brought her to the listening post instead of to the Changeling Hive as she had been tasked with. She called for a dissolvement of corruption in command.

She did not require coaching. I used her as a ventriloquist dummy. Several of my colleagues had taught themselves to resist, but what the Changelings did to me resulted in an ability to invade and take over someone's mind. Use them as a puppet.

   Bon Bon told me to turn on the news. She said it was important. I did, and my jaw dropped at the sight of Luna and Celestia standing wing to wing. It hadn't been reported that they hadn't so much as spoken to one another in months. Seen another in years. They were collectively denouncing what Spitfire had said. They unraveled everything I'd done. I'd saved Equestria... And they were calling for the head of Doo on a platter. To confess that the Ministry of Arcane Sciences intelligence she'd recieved was incorrect. Implicating Spitfire as the traitor instead.

   Fuck.

I felt loose. pliant. my mind faded, touching two others. goig over that day i stumbled onto them and we melted into each other. three threads wrapped, and became a single rope. we stood. I stood. Twelve-Power. Alicorn. Trixie would be proud. I saw the one dor that had been sealed all this time and begin to open. I stepped out into bright sunlight to slaughter anew.

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