Fallout Equestria: SIDEQUEST

Chapter 7. Sober.

"File it under 'F'- for 'Freaky Shit'."

A loud throbbing woke me. My coat was a light purple, and a lock of electric blue fell across my vision. We were still in the square where we had been, surrounded by the re-dead. Only... None of them had any visible wounds. Then I realized what I was hearing. Music. Ground-shakingly loud, bone-rattlingly bass-heavy music. Must be some sort of freaky sonic weapon.

I was laying quite comfortably with Twelve-Power against me, who seemed out for the count. There was... It was in front of me. Staring. That mouth a frown. It spoke, and I heard echoing whispers, from behind me, from everywhere I couldn't see...

"No fair. You cheated."

"... Wait, what?" I cheated? I remembered it saying something to that effect, but...

"This noise hurts. Get rid of it. You cheated."

"Yeah yeah yeah broken record. Off my ass." I struggled to get up, but couldn't. The... pressure from the sound held me on the ground, as crazy as that seems. I became aware of a unicorn wearing goggles and a gas mask with a bemused posture, one hoof on a comically large power switch in its 'ON' position.

"Well well well, stop the presses and scan that back. Looks like old D-J PON-3 caught herself a couple live ones, and a creeper to boot. Lucky lucky day, ghoulies won't be happy about this one."

"Right. Music. Off. Bullet. Skull." I waved in the general direction of my head, ignoring the fluid trickling out of my nose. I hoped I was getting sick and that I wasn't bleeding again.

"Oh. Shit. Sorry. Music. Off." Was this mare mocking me? Doesn't matter, music off. "And you. Stay right where you are, no looking in ponies' eyes while we have us a talk." The thing hissed softly and looked away. "We call 'em creepers. Some type of ghostie critter, something t'do with ponykins and possession and mischief or something. Young'n, otherwise y'd be daed." She nodded, once, twice. Mocking. Definitely.

"Creeper. Right. I'll be sure to file it under 'F'. You know. Freaky shit." DJ PON-3. Hadn't I heard that before?

"Sounds about right. Not even the ferals like'm. You can tell where there's one, they got like a.. bubble around them. Nothing what's got a brain in its skull goes near 'em."

"So what happened while we were out?" What? I was curious.

"Mmm. Flash of light, you got kinda see-through. While you were all sitting and staring at one another, stuck in its thrall, them ghoulies rush'd ye an summat tripped the party that's been sitting here waiting since the bombs. Got a show to tape, then I'll bring you to Ghoultown."

A thought stuck me. "I was escorting a group of detainees to Canterlot Maximum Security. One of them was a griffon. Did you see her come this way?"

"Hard to tell. We drag a lot of ponies out of the Fog though, so she might be holed up at Ghoultown. We'll tell in a minute."

Twelve moved off to speak with our new friend, and I turned to stare at the lanky thing that had caused the trouble. "I could have easily killed you, you know." Better to take the hardass route.

"You were happy dancing. You did not know anything was wrong until I nudged you."

"I killed you. I started to pull the trigger before Twelve pulled us into her, or whatever it was that broke your concentration." I could see the uses for this thing. Distraction. Keeping enemies at bay... "I could kill you now, while they're talking." I settled around the bit enough to let the laser play across its chest.

"You could, but you won't. This place boring... take me away. I can hide in your shadow and you'll hardly know I'm there." I inclined a shoulder, and it took a step. "What's your name?"

"Spannah Wrench. Ya's?"

"Peekness Anthrax Boolean. Most call me Peekaboo though." Seemed as good a name as any. My attention was drawn by a crackle off in the distance. Small-arms fire.

"Whassat?"

The DJ shrugged. "Rangers and the Blue Team ha'been duking it out o'or this city for time outa mind. B'fore there even was either, when it was still Luna's ponies and Celestia's ponies." I see. "The same force, mind you, since the bombs. They can't kill each other, so ev'ry morning when the sun lights up the Fog they're at it, guns and swords and artillery. An when the sun goes down, every casualty gets back up an' goes back home. It's pretty cool to watch, sometimes. Gets old though. Other stuff going on."

"... So wait. I thought the Steel Rangers were with the Order?" Confusion. I had plenty of it.

"Mm. Well. You know tha Church of Epona, yea?" Of course I did. I may be many things but I was not a heathen, I knew my goddesses. "Same thing. Y'have the mare, an' the ponies loyal t'her. Then you ha' those what believe only in th'Church. Tha'd be the diff'rence between us'n them. Now'n then."

"So before... The war, they battled here? How does that work?"

"Complicated. Wasn't as easy then, couldn't just..." The mare looked up, as if trying to think of how to word what she was thinking, or trying to feed it to me in her jiving manner. "... Feed one anuvver buckshot sammiches lef' and right. Had'ta have a bit more finesse abou' things. Chessmatch things, little insult here, brown-nose there..."

"But now they're free to just whale on each other with everything they've got. Nothing left for them but their armor and their brothers. Equestria, their oaths, the Princesses... They all don't matter, nothing but the glory of battle. Sounds like home."

"Ya talk a fair good brogue, not tae thick though. Bayston, prob'ly. Mane's been cut recently, an' not by y'r avr'age Wastelander. Stable pony. 105?"

"Yeah. I'm fra' the 105 Stable out Bayston way." Twelve showed signs of waking, obviously taxed by our joining. I still felt the echoes of her mind against mine. You okay? I didn't know if 'thinking' at her would work. She rubbed her head a little bit and nodded slowly, turning to stare at Peekaboo.

"Well. Ain't we foooine company. A Canterlot Ghoul, creeper, Stable Pony, and a remnant of Stable Tek, an alicorn nae less. W'best get tae Belows before it starts rainin. Shit'll eat all ye fleshy bits."

Well that sounded attractive. Peekaboo slid into my shadow, seeming to melt right into the pavement. I felt uneasy, but soon relaxed about it as my own shadow waved at me and seemed to giggle. We fell into line behind the DJ as she began walking away from the courtyard and left it to its forgotten party.

My heart stopped as another ghoul, feral, trotted our way out of the mist and looked at us, before moving on. Like it didn't care we were there. Interesting. Meant I didn't have to use up ammunition on it, and we stood less of a risk of getting murdered violently. Twelve and me hauled up short of a thicker knot of mist, and I devolved into a coughing fit as our guide wandered right into it. I spat up a frothy glob of blood as she returned.

"Right. Sorry. Forgot. The thin shit filling the air will eat you very slowly. You won't heal, so don't cut yourself. This thicker stuff will eat you quicker, make you runny, stick you to your armor. There's some ghouls what got their Pipbucks fused into their legs and shit. Ghouls stuck to buildings." Lovely mental image. I imagined my eyeballs oozing out of face as that dripped off my skull, skin fusing to my clothing. Peekaboo snickered.

I checked my Pipbuck's map, and found a "Lookout" close by, recently mapped. Even closer to us was a marker dubbed "Belows". In quotations. Twilight must have 'improved' it somehow. I hoped it didn't start snarking at me. DJ lead us around the bank of mist, and tugged open a hatchway. A warm breath of air hit my face, and I sighed.

"I guess I'm going in first?" To my surprise, the unicorn slipped inside the dark dank hole in the ground. Twelve went first, and I flattened my ears. Suddenly overcome with nyctophobia, I clicked on the overbright on my Pipbuck. I trotted in uneasily after them, biting the bit of Applebucker just hard enough to make the laser click on.

"Hold up, the vents are shifting." A whistle I knew all too well started up, along with a familiar hum. A second later, the corridor directly ahead of us filled with the mist. Luckily, the air current caused it to move past us instead of allowing it to make the turn. But we were stuck waiting for it to pass. Well. Most of us. Me and Twelve sat and waited (somewhat) patiently while DJ moved on ahead.

"What do you know about our friend here?" I nodded in the direction of the fog-filled corridor, a little perturbed by the way it flowed like a liquid past us, yet curled gently into our space off to the side like a normal gas.

"The DJ? She seems.... I'm uncertain. Ask me later."

Okay. Well that worked. I settled down and pulled one of my banned books out of my pack, hoofing through the pages interestedly. It seemed to be a locksmith's instruction book, with rather involved explanation of alternative methods of getting into a lock one didn't have the key to. By the time I put it away and sat back to digest the information, I noticed the fog before us thinning.

"Right. I kicked on some of t'other fans, and shut off the security systems ahead of us. The fog'll bleed off presently, an then we'll be on our way."

I nodded a little and tapped my hooves together momentarily before moving on with the others. Indeed, the corridor was now 'safe'. I still felt uneasy, maybe the sight of yellow eyes in the black that my lamp couldn't illuminate had something to do with it. That and the sight of a bigger 'bot than the one I'd seen earlier standing right before us as we stepped out of the corridor.

It was taller than Twelve-Power, painted a deep red, and its friend or foe tag flickered between white and red like it was about to do us harm. Coupled with the massive frame of it, supporting two miniguns and a missile launcher mounted to the back, it was fairly intimidating... I noticed a mark on its flank as we trotted past it.

A cog with a triangle made of three apples. In the middle was a hammer entwined with apple blossoms. Not personalization like on my revolver. This was more... A maker's mark. "Twelve, whazzat." I pointed.

"Ironpony Mark Seven. Officially designated the "Big McIntosh" model, equipped with dual General Thaumics 7.62 millimeter M134 pods, and one DZ-98 homing missile launcher of reverse-engineered Zebrican origins. Powered by an obsolete spark battery array that doesn't allow it to access more than one function at a time. It is used for entrenching so it does not need to move or speak. Modeled after the brother of its inventor and manufacturer, Apple Bloom of Ironshod Firearms, each is stamped with her cutie mark and the insignia of her family's corporation."

"Speak in plain pony please, Twelve." I rubbed my forehead softly as I grimaced. Lack of mints was making me fuzzy. I felt crappy. I hated being sober with a passion.

"After he died, Apple Bloom built a robot version of him and put big guns on it so that it could protect troops. Ironshod Firearms is her family's company, it produces things like the metal golem we just passed, revolvers, shotguns, and sniper rifles. Usually each product is stamped with the cutie mark of its inventor."

"I see." That was... Kinda depressing, actually. Knowing I was carrying weapons designed by a mud pony didn't perturb me as much as it would once have. "Her brotha died, so she built a machine to save other ponies from her pain."

"I... Guess you could see it that way. I see it as the logical progression of the Ironpony line that began with the Mark I. You saw it earlier, it is a simulacrum of Apple Bloom herself armed with a nine millimeter submachine gun. Capable of supplanting frontline unskilled conscripts, or the civilian police force."

I nodded a little bit as we walked. The corridor was beginning to open up a little bit. It ended on a circular room, holding nothing more than what looked like a utility elevator. "Here. Up is to Lookout, down is to Ghoultown." I considered the options.

"Up, I suppose. I'd like to see this "Lookout" for myself." Oh, the wonders that I would behold.

"This is D-J PON-3 comin' to yah loud and pah-roud from the 'eart of Canterlot. Got a bit of news out of the town known as Pon Evil. Seems a civilian contractor send there by the Enclave wiped all them slaver bastards clear off the map. Get this folks. It was that Marauder from Stable 105 what did it, allowed the Enclave to secure the town and shipped out with a hoof-full of criminal scum intended for Canterlot Maximum Security.

Could this be a change of heart in our new friend? Only time will tell if she keeps up with the good deeds or goes back to being an insufferable bitch. This is DJ PON3, signing off.

I'm not going to leave you alone, though. Here's the crooning of Sweetie Belle, singin' about better days behind and before us."

I simply sat and watched, as she reported, then clicked off her link. I pursed my lips and thought a little bit. Here was my chance to let ponies know I was still alive.

"I'm a marauder?"

"Yeah, it's a Wasteland thing. Ain't nopony ever reported about with their real name, hardly. We give 'em titles that reflect who they are and how they act. So you're Surprise's new pet?"

"Hardly. She's just the only direction I got. If I keep moving, I stay alive, and go back in a year. But... Do you do interviews?"

"Special news bulletin, children. 'ave I got a treat for you. The one, the only, that marauding bitch outta 105. So, Utility, just 'ow did you come to the Fog?"

"Our transport crashed. No survivors. Just me, my companion here, and the fugitive Gilda Stormstrider of the Holy Order."

"So it would be fair to say you're the 'civilian contractor' the Enclave's crowin' about? Us what don't throw in for them, should we watch ourselves around yah?"

I blinked a little bit. Mare had some hard questions. "No. I don't support the Enclave as far as I can throw them. I've done some work for them and have gotten jack shit in return. In fact, the only gratitude for any kindness I've shown them has come from one Colonel Cloudkicker and her family."

"Get used to it, kid. That bitch Surprise doesn't really play well with others, ya dig? I guess that concludes our interview for nae. More after this music." With that, she hoofed a button, and the bright red 'ON AIR' sign clicked off. She leaned against the recording equipment and loosed a deep sigh.

"What was it like?" I hoofed over my mouth and grimaced at what I'd blurted out, before quickly explaining. "I mean.. before the bombs.."

"Child, I was around b'fore the bombs, before the war..." She seemed thoughtful. Or something. Hard to tell with the goggles and mask. "It was... Simple. More parties. Nopony wantin' yer 'ide on gen'ral principle." She waved a hoof slowly. "Technology wan't a tool of war. The infrastructure th' radio stations work off'n, tha's all pre-war."

I nodded a little bit. Made sense, sorta. "I can't imagine. Even in the Stable there was a lot of fighting. I wanna go back though.. it's my home.. a safe kinda danger. A known quantity." I looked up, peering at the surprisingly well-preserved photographs on the wall of the DJ next to various celebrities. She'd been pretty. "Out here, it seems like... There's a shadow just behind me, shrouding every step I take. Always someone after my head, my flank, my stuff... No peace, anywhere."

"Well. We got us a pretty good place, up ta Ghoultown. Ain't nopony gets murdered there, usually. Anyway. Rain won't stop for a bit, no safe way tae Ghoultown righ' now. Might as well settle in."

I nodded my assent and followed the ghoul out of the studio, into her 'living space'. I sighed and settled down sleepily on a surprisingly clean mattress, closing my eyes and dropping off immediately as the DJ hummed herself a sad little song.

"I just want to start things over... Why can't we not be sober..."

These ghouls, I found, were much more like Ditzy. A friendly bunch, to say the least. One even offered to cut my mane. "So what brings you here, smoothcoat?"

I blinked a little bit, sitting patiently in an adjustable-height chair of surprisingly good condition, while the ghoul's magic held a pair of scissors that snip-snipped at my mane. It felt good, I'll admit to it. "What did you say?"

"Smoothcoat. You know, because your coat is so smooth... and chewy..." .... "Heh heh... just a joke, little mare. Just a slang for non-ghouls."

"... Oookay. I'm looking for a griffon. A way out of Canterlot."

"Mm. Easy to get lost in the fog, that second might be hard. I don't know why- oh, the Doc's got a bird in his clinic. I suppose you could go see if she's the one you're looking for.... But oh, you simply must let me take care of you... Not too many smoothcoats even give me the time of day if they come through here..."

I stared into the mare's half-rotten face, before looking around. I'd managed to get myself stuck in a spa. I sighed a little bit and shrugged a little bit, before the blue mare squealed and clopped her hooves together. She'd been fairly attractive in life, I supposed. "... I guess. It's not pressing, and I don't have anywhere to be." Hoof! Bad touch!

I grit my teeth a little bit and sighed as she hummed through her work, finding while I didn't enjoy the actual experience, the feeling left behind was agreeable. I floated out the little carved box and looked it over, before peering closer. There seemed to be some sort of catch... I tapped it, and it snapped open.

Inside, were eight pearls. Big, about an inch across, and glowing as if with an inner light. I found myself peering at one selected at random, before looking over a piece of paper that came out of the lid.

"To anypony that finds this case... This was my insurance policy. They'd let me get away with whatever I wanted, release almost any information to the public. Because of these memories. If I divulged these secrets, their credibility would be ruined forever. They'd never be trusted by the Princesses again. By Equestria.

If you found this case after... The end... It should explain some things. How things got to be the way they are today."

-Lieutenant General Scootaloo, Royal Equestrian Air Force.

That did not seem to be all, though. There was something on the other side, in fairly clear mouth-writing that seemed a little shaky with emotion.

"To hell with it. The Enclave exists. The battle lines you know are false. Stable-Tek was not founded to shield ponies from the war between the Princesses. It was forged to keep the separatists- the Enclave- in line. If you're reading this, I've failed. I'm sorry."

-Officer-Agent Scootaloo, Enclave Clandestine Operations.

I was distracted, and nearly dropped the note by an odd scraping sensation from my hoof that felt... rather good. I looked down, and saw that my new ghoul friend had one of my hindlegs cradled, and was running a file along one of my hooves. I snapped the case shut and decided to let old world mysteries stay for just a little bit. I was enjoying this too much.

I woke up with Little Bloom clamped between my teeth. Something rested against my chest that wasn't there previously, and my face felt funny. Dropping the revolver, I looked up into a mirror that was handy and recoiled. Ears. Horns. On a cord around my neck like a macabre set of dogtags, my fatigues splattered with thick ghoul blood. And my face... It had been scarred before, but now it was torn even further. Buckshot peppered me, blood seeped from bulletholes in my chest and shoulders. I noticed a bloody scalpel laying on the sink, polluting the otherwise clean water with a cloud of pink.

I'd been cutting my face up. Making myself look like a raider. By all evidence, that's what I was. My reflection suddenly grinned and pressed its hooves against the barrier between us. Its mouth moved, and I saw with horror that its tongue had been cut to ribbons. I could still make out the words.

"Virtue is what separates from the raiders... Face up to facts. You have no virtue, are worth nothing but a pile of dead bodies..."

This time when I woke up in a cold sweat, I had a mint-green set of hooves cradling my head. "Are you okay, Spanner Wrench."

"... Yes. I'm... Fine. Just a dream, fell asleep during my spa visit. Where's the DJ?"

"Vinyl is speaking with someone important. If there's nothing else, we should check the infirmary."

I nodded a little and struggled to my hooves, staggering a little bit and colliding with a wall. I coughed a little bit and felt a lurch, dry heaves. Pain wracked my stomach as I gasped for breath and slumped down the wall, leaving a smear of blood. I stayed down for a minute, before nodding a little bit and rising slowly. "Yeah..."

Twelve looked at me oddly for a minute, but lent me her side for me to lean on. I really was beginning to like this mare with her fucked-up ugly face. Ghoultown was in the remains of a large shopping mall, many of the stores looted and boarded up. Some were still open, bearing repainted signs advertising different goods. I passed by a snake-oil salesmare in the main atrium, standing out in front of the 'Rainbow Dash Memorial Flame'. She was proclaiming the miracle restorative qualities of some thing or another that she had for sale.

There was a small clinic in the ground floor (which was actually underground). I drew Little Bloom in a telekinetic sheath of magic, and nodded to Twelve as she took up a similar position on the other side of the door. The world slowed to a crawl as my shadow slid to between us. I shifted to where Peekaboo had moved to, before taking a few steps back and rushing through the door.

It crashed open with a splintering sound, the revolver swinging up in front of me as I slid to a stop, peering around. "Major Gilda Stormstrider. You're under arrest."

Twelve nodded her assent from next to me, as we pointed out guns at the griffon standing before us.

"I was just following orders, kid. I don't know why you have it in for me. Hell, you're the one that shot me first." She tugged aside her coat to reveal a set of bandages I hadn't noticed before. "Holed my armor up pretty good. Tried to walk with your caps. Killed two of my men. That's why there's a price on your head. That and your stunt in Crater. That town was set to blow any day now. Empress' will."

I stared flatly at her and pursed my lips a little bit. "I don't remember any of that." I sighed a little bit and slipped my revolver away. "How do I clear up this bounty?"

I swear she smirked as she tucked the thumbs of her talons into her pockets, leaning against a table. "Well..."

"So this armor."

"Yes. It's... Here. In Canterlot somewhere. It belongs to my family, but it was put on display in a museum after Dash died."

"So is that why we're going to see this dragon?"

"Banker, yes. He's been around since before the war, he'll know exactly where it is."

"What's in it for me?"

She tugged that medallion from within her clothing, and dangled it from a talon. "The Mark of Solar Flare. Absolves the wearer of any crime against the Order. It'll open up jobs from us if that whole Enclave thing doesn't pan out."

I must admit, that pot was pretty sweet. I just had to survive a year, after all. I frowned a little bit as she spread out a map. "So what's the catch?"

"... Banker's location is here, in the ruins of the Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. You can see the difficulty here." There was a broad line of gold... and one in purple right next to it. The map was otherwise heavily notated. I supposed it was to account for impassable streets, whether through Fog heavy enough to have deleterous effects on a pony or just rubble in some shape or form. There was one road that lead through. Naturally, it ran between those two other lines.

"I'm sure you've heard about crazy ghouls. There's remnants of both sides camped on either side of this road here. Their minds are totally gone, their EFS is fucked up from the two hundred years. The only things that exist are themselves and the other guys. If you don't fit in the first group, you're part of the second group, and therefore shot in the face. It'll be crazy dangerous."

I peered over the map, and pursed my lips. "... Well. What are we standing around for?" I looked up, and the griffon shared my wild grin.

"Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?" I heard Peek whisper behind us. Twelve replied immediately.

"Don't worry. Spanner's a lucky pony."

A couple minutes later, we were ready to go. Peekaboo hid in my shadow again, and I smirked. I had a great idea. I set a tag for a map marker location on my Pipbuck, and saw the directional arrow appear in my EFS compass, flashing over... due east. "Alright. Let's get moving."

Gilda laughed and trotted almost like a pony next to me, meeting my soft clip-clopping pace as we slipped out of the mall undisturbed. I slipped an earbloom out of my Pipbuck, tucking it into my ear. I tapped through the available radio stations....

"Gooood moooorning Equestriiiaaa. You can HEEEEAAAAR MEEEE. That's right. From Bayston to FillyDee, Stalliongrad to Riverside, baby. Stereo Beat is back on the national airwaves and it feeeels sooooo sweet~ You -can't- stop the signal, Surprise.

Now I'm sure you all know bout our very own Bayston native DJ PON-3, right? Currently operating out of her cloister in Canterlot? Well she sent yours truly a message- a tape. Now there's some goood news here."

I groaned as I heard my own voice. And then some things I hadn't heard yet.

"What's your name?"

"Nightstalker Twelve-Power. Stable-Tek Sniper Corps. I've been traveling with Spanner only a short time. I trust... she'll do the right thing. She has a virtue. She's not just a raider, not really even a slaver. I've seen her heart first-hoof, and deep down... she's a good mare, if a little cool on the exterior."

I shook my head as we trotted along, avoiding clots of Fog and picking our way over rubble as I lead the way to the tag.

"Hear that, folks? 105's got a name. DJ calls her Utility, and apparently while she's been spotted having free access to Enclave facilities and doing contract work for the Man, she ain't pitching for their team. So to speak. So just... Leave her alone until we can figure out this mare, okay kiddies?

Now, here's Windforge with "Shut Up And Dance.""

I coughed a little bit and checked my map. Looking up at the building before us as I turned off the radio for now. "... Alright. I think this is the place. Start looking for an entrance, it'll probably be in the basement.." I'd read in Zebra Infiltration Tactics (one of my banned-material books I'd found in the trunk, flipped through during my spa visit.) that inconspicuous buildings had often been used as 'staging areas' for supporting sabotage and guerilla tactics.

I'd also heard from Stereo in a message 'Reading is MAGIC!' that the Enclave borrowed from the zebra playbook, and one could learn to defeat organized assaults from them or steal from their repositories disguised as abandoned houses and boarded up storefronts.

Filed away in 'deep storage' of my packrat brain had been a map on the wall of the chamber I'd first spoken to Surprise in. It had shown a location in Canterlot, then zoomed in on this intersection, before moving to somewhere else.

I reasoned that this must be the place, and that there had to be something good here. If nothing more than ammunition I desperately needed. My automapping spell blinked, and flicked information across my field of vision. "Fine Equestrian Sweets" had been located. I searched the building, before snorting. A trio of balloons making a stylized cloud, and a lightning bolt lancing down from the bottom. The 'E' of Equestrian was a hidden Enclave insignia.

"Let's go in through the front door."

I nodded at Gilda, before waving a hoof at the boarded-up entrance to the shop. "Make yourself useful, open that shit."

The griffon shrugged a little bit and grasped one of the boards in her talons, muscles bulging across her back. I blinked and stared... maybe a little drool snuck out the corner of my slack jaw... And then it was off with a sharp -CRACK- that had to have woken the neighbors.

My shadow whispered to me. "I don't like this place, Spanner. We should leave."

"I'm not keen on it either. Hate candy. But it's probably got stuff we can use, and no sense in letting it lay around." A few more moments of mouth-watering muscular action on the part of my bulky new friend, and the door was clear. Her face twisted into a grimace of rage, and she slammed her forehead into the wood, and it splintered. A right hook that had my nethers twisting jarred it straight off its hinges, the decayed yet preserved wood dropping onto the floor.

I swallowed a little bit and shook my head, trotting up the stairs and into the building after the griffon. "I'll get upstairs. Probably an apartment for whoever owned this place, probably good stuff we can use. Toss the shop itself, and the basement. Probably where the stuff we're hunting is."

My two companions nodded, and Peekaboo stood up from my shadow. I knew she was -right- behind me, because of the thrumming I heard. Deep, ominous. "Ugh... go... find some candy or something. Go help them. I need to think." She frowned a little bit (it was still creepy), but slunk off after Twelve. Good. Creepy little shit...

I looked around the storefront, pursing my lips a little. It had been saved from looting by the boarding up, the ponies inside must have thought the end had been little more than a raid... I unwrapped a candy and stuck it in my mouth, sucking on the peppermint as I trotted for the set of stairs I noticed behind the counter.The register caught my eye, and I whacked it. Locked. Not to be stymied, I shook it and banged it against the counter repeatedly before it was jarred hard enough to pop open.

A hoofful of bits, and a small stack of paper money that reminded me of Stable ration coupons, along with a small box filled with bobby pins went into my saddlebag, before I gave the register a careless toss. A respectably pretty unicorn with a red and white striped mane smiled at me from a pictureframe, with a mare and a stallion on either side of her. They resembled her enough to be her mother and father. A small caption underneath stated the occasion of the photograph to be 'Swirled Confections Grand Opening'.

I frowned a little bit to myself before looking away from the depressing little cheerful candy shop with its three ponies only years from war... I mounted the steps as I tried to clear my head, grumbling a little bit as I made my way into the living quarters, pushing open the door. Little warped and stuck, but I managed to knock it open.

Inside, a radio crooned some song with a demonic hiss around the edges. I felt something in my head move in response to the sound, and my legs shook underneath me. Blood trickled from my nose as I backpedaled a step or two. Trapped. The apartment had been booby trapped, or a radio left on to corrupt in the balefire blast...

I took a deep breath and ran, ignoring the pain in my skull and the feeling of my own skin trying to crawl off my back. I stumbled, tripping and sliding into a table, knocking the radio off onto my lap. I frantically beat at the casing, feeling things turning to liquid, the necromantic murmur of that siren song inviting me to sleep, sleep, sleep and wash all my troubles away... My hooves fell softer, as it became harder to move. By chance, one of my strikes tapped the OFF button and it fell silent.

I rose shakily and looked around the room I was in. Couches, tables, an old television with a cracked screen... A desk with a terminal on it. I approached, and stopped short when I noticed the skeleton...

Tall. From the size of the ribcage and pelvis, she'd been thin. A revolver laid on the floor, a small hole in the ceiling corresponding to a shattered section of her skull. Rather than rot from the balefire.. she'd taken her own life.

I picked up the revolver and checked the load- only one casing. She'd loaded her gun with one bullet.

I shook my head a little bit and lifted her in my telekinesis. Her bones rattled a little bit as I curled her like a filly. I trotted slowly into what I thought was her bedroom, and wrapped her in the sheet, laying her out on the bed. Two bottlecaps rested on sheet over her eye sockets. I had to make do with a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of wine dug out of my pack, set at her hooves and her head.

"I know not thy name but let thy sins and transgressions be forgave. Allow thee to run with Epona in Everafter, forevermore." I murmured as I turned away from the bed, trotting back to see about that terminal.

"Let's see... Oh, it's unlocked." The first few entries were surrounding the possible use of a candy named 'bliss bomb' as an anti-riot measure, notes for new candy concoctions...

And then an interesting one dated approximately fifty years after the return of Luna and coinciding with what Cutthroat had told me about the day the bombs fell.

From: The terminal of General Pinkamina Dianne Pie.

To: Enclave cells in the greater Canterlot area.

Message begins.

Ponykind cannot sustain itself the way we currently are. Hating one another is not the way to go. You have to share, you have to care, you have to love everypony no matter their allegiances. Tonight, I'm inviting you all to a party in the Canterlot Gardens. It is being engineered for Luna and Celestia to be in attendance, I implore each of you to convince as many ponies from their armies camped in Canterlot to accompany you. There will be cake, and ice cream, and sarsparilla... And fireworks at the end of the night.

Gear up, ponies. We've got a -lot- of ghosties to giggle at...

I found more coin, a couple bullets, and some shells in Applebucker's massive gauge. I took along the mare's elegantly engraved and inlayed revolver, chambered in the same caliber as Lil Bloom.

There was a case, with room for six bullets and the beautiful revolver, in a safe popped open by the terminal in the living room. I sat down and put it carefully away in its velvet home. Five bullets laid in their slots, the cartridges a shiny brass. The slugs themselves were swirled white and red, like peppermint lozenges.

A note had been encased in plastic, neat mouth writing faded a little with age and tucked into the lining. I tugged it out and began to read, anything to kill time.

Peppermint Swirl,

I know we've had our differences, but I'd like to... bury the hatchet as it were. I'd like for us to possibly become business partners in Ponyville, with a merger of Swirled Confections and Bon Chocolat? And perhaps a little sharing of recipes and the like?

Consider Jawbreaker a gift, and an apology for trashing your shop. You'll never find a revolver quite like it, weighted so a foal could use it, but with punch that an Earth pony will respect.

-Bonbon

The more I learned about the old world and all its myriad alliances, the less I understood. I knew Bonbon, somewhat. She was an odd mare whose ghost still whispered in my head quietly after merging with Twelve-Power. She didn't strike me as the sort that would rough up a pretty unicorn for 'protection' or destroy a competitor's business. Although, she was an Earth pony, so maybe I thought too highly of her.

I shook my head a little bit and stashed Jawbreaker and the peppermint slugs away in my saddlebag. I couldn't bear to use such a beautiful weapon. I might break it.

The safe also yielded two cases of candy and a dewar marked 'liquid bliss bomb'. Each case seemed experimental or held in storage for some sort of nostalgic reason, the first was labeled 'Bitter Memory', the second held a piece of tape with 'mint-als v3 ext. ver' pencilled onto it.

Naturally I was far more interested in the last than either of the first two.

Into my pack they went. That seemed to be it for miss Peppermint's home. Time to rejoin the others.

I heard the hiss first, and then the bass rumble. Bits of plaster dropped from the ceiling. Earthquake? No... Too localized. Some piece of machinery, then. But what could make the whole building shudder?

I raced out the door and down the steps. Not on this level. Basement then. I hoped they'd taken some of the candy, at least. Or found something useful in the shop! Light spilled from a doorway that stood open off to one side. I snorted and dashed into it, taking the steps two at a time rather clumsily, still getting used to being grown-up sized.

And skidded to a halt at the landing, staring slack-jawed. A tank. The fucking Enclave had stashed a tank here. It seemed almost as big as the dragons I'd seen in pictures. A pony could walk between the tracks and not scrape against the belly of the beast. "... Oh.. My... Celestia." I murmured quietly to myself, then grinned. My new baby.

It was white, with red stripes painted across the hull. It shone under the lights like a thing of beauty. It purred like a lion and roared like a dragon when the engine was revved. A hatch slid down from the back and thumped down to make a ramp up into the thing that three ponies could walk abreast on comfortably.

I settled down as the ramp slid up. A bench ran the length of either side of the crew compartment, with weapons lockers tucked into the floor. I could see the ladder leading up to the top hatch, and where the roof gunner would ply her trade. I grinned as I nodded to Peek, who was curled up under one of the benches somehow. Perhaps frightened. I didn't care.

I trotted to the front of the vehicle and settled into the commander's seat, watching Twelve as she sweated over the controls before her as she sat in the pilot's chair. "Lets see... I can drive the tank.. But you're going to have to use the turret and get someone up top. Use the turret sparingly- we only found fifteen shells in the autoloader. Plenty of ammunition for the 7.62 and .50 machine guns though. You've got the fifty under your control there."

"A Proditor Merkava? I thought these things were discontinued after the Zebra Wars."

"They were. And all of the remaining assets confiscated and destroyed by the Ministry of Peacetime Affairs. You've seen for yourself- the Enclave engineered those wars. The MPA was their ministry from the start. It bolstered their factories with all sorts of appropriated tech. Hence the Zebra influence on anything Enclave."

"Alright. So let's do some damage. We ready to get moving?"

"The Major is searching for more supplies that could have been tucked away in this warehouse, and for a way out of this tunnel. This shop has been here too long, this tank got in here somehow."

I nodded a little and leaned against the controls, licking my lips as I lit a cigarette. The hatch dropped again (I couldn't see it from where I was, but I heard the thump.) and I heard Gilda's boots click and scrape on the catwalk, before something hit the floor with a jarring thump.

"That's everything. Fuel's topped off, the tank is pointed at a magical barrier that it should pass through, all the ammo I could find is right there, and everything else from this place. We're flush for this mission. IFF should confuse both sides' systems enough to put us in a noncombatant state."

I tipped a helmet I found resting on the console onto my head and slumped back in my seat. An uncomfortable bulge in the cushion proved to be a cigar box.. I lit one and clamped it between my teeth as I pulled down the controls. "Alright. Let's get moving."

The tank gave a lurch, and the engine roared, exhaust pipes spitting dragon's fire as it surged forwards... Straight for a wall. I braced myself, and blinked as we passed through it. The cobbles of the street crumbled under the treads as Twelve turned us with practiced ease. We were heading towards a warzone, but at least we were safe up in here.

It took not too long to reach where the thump and smash of howitzer cannons and the crackle of small arms fire was coming from. It was remarkable, to see the two camps divided by this strip of road that ran between them, power-armored ponies in white and black paint skirmishing. I watched one twitch and crumple to the ground as our tank slowed. "... Weapons hot. Don't fire unless fired upon, they don't seem to know we're here. I'm buttoning up, overpressure system is active."

I nodded to Twelve and leaned against my console, peering through my scope as I kept the turret straight. I watched the road ahead of us, taking deep breaths to try and keep calm. We were safe. We weren't getting blowed up yet. "Punch it, Twelve. I want to get the fuck out of this trench." I could see our destination up ahead- the towers of the School for Gifted Unicorns. I'd never seen it, but Twilight seemed excited.

"Yes! That's it right there."

Twelve recoiled and turned around a little before snorting. Apparently I was speaking with Twilight's voice whenever the ghost spoke up. "... We're still a little distance away." Some sort of alarm went off in the cabin. "... And we're drawing fire. Cams are showing a tank creeping... Two.. Three... They're sending a whole detachment. Apparently a Merkava is something they both agree needs to be destroyed. We're just going to have to deal with it, their targeting seems a little wonky."

Shells struck the close walls of the road. Too tight quarters to turn the turret on them. "Destroy them or we're going to get aced, Twelve." I murmured, tapping my console.

I became aware of a keening sound in my head, as the turret began to rotate on its own volition. Dumbstruck, I watched through the camera as the cannon tore a gouge in the wall, letting me see more and more of the power armored troops turning to face us, as tanks rolled into the pass. There was a thump like the door of the Stable shutting, and we rolled forward a little. The shell ripped through the front armor of the first tank in the column like tissue paper.

There was a second crump as something inside the tank exploded, and a third explosion turned it into shrapnel and a flaming charred corpse. Something was creeping along the edges of the armor I could see. The white warped and slowly melted into black, the red striping burned away completely. The armoring underneath looked... twisted and organic almost. The thudding I heard when too close to Peek rang through my ears. I held on tight as the barrel screamed again like an angry animal.

"Gilda! Check on fucking Peekaboo!" I rapped my hoof on the console nervously, unsure of what was happening and what it meant.

I HATE YOU PONIES. YOU FUCKING CHEATING BASTARDS.

That was Peek's terrible voice, alright. Coming from the tank itself. "She's gone! I think she melted into the tank..." I swore. I fucked my life. Why did everything always fuck up? She was going to ruin everything!

The barrel swung again, as a third tank was creeping over the blasted shells of the first two. It fired, and the shell slammed into us without any real effect. Our gun roared, machine guns chattering. One of the howitzer emplacements erupted into flame and exploded, the chunks shearing through the armored ponies standing near it. Bullets ripped into metal and ghoulified flesh, ripping the army apart.

Peek stopped at where the road rose again, overlooking both sides of the open areas. Probably once some sort of park. All I knew was noise, and I threw myself to the floor of the tank. Impacts rocked us, and our gun thumped again and again. A tendril snapped out of the autoloader and grabbed a rack of shells that Gilda had brought in.

The ground shuddered, the tank screamed, and my head slammed into something at the sudden terrible gravity in the wrong direction. The engine roared... and then everything was black and silent.

I woke up to the sound of rhythmic thumping, and the smell of leaking fuel. I groaned and held my aching head as I looked up at the floor of the tank. The overpass we'd ventured on to must have collapsed under our weight and cannon fire.

Twelve hung upside down in her harness, seeming still heavily out of it. Everything was too quiet. Peek must have died with the Merkava, or moved on. The thumping proved to be Gilda at the back, slamming the hatch and trying to get it open.

"Minor setback, hm?"

The griffon snorted, and shook her head as she slumped to the floor. ".. Fuck, this is my fault. I should never have left the Nest. Everything I touch goes sideways."

I tossed the dented helmet and lit a cigarette. "Nonsense. We're fine. We're all alive."

"The Zebrican Merkava are equipped with shaped explosives around the crew hatch in case of just a circumstance."

"Thanks Twi. Now how do we trip them?"

"There should be a lever."

I blinked and narrowed my eyes. "How convenient." I smirked, reaching out and tapping said lever. A muffled whump filled the cabin and left my ears ringing, before Pink Fog began to billow in. ".. Fuck fuck fuck shit. What now, genius?"

"... We've landed in a dense pocket of the chemical agent known as Pink Fog. Wake up Twelve, grab everything you want out of here, and make a run for it. When you're out, down all the healing items you have."

I nodded a little bit and reached up to prod Twelve. No dice. I strapped on my pack securely, made sure my weapons were well-secured, and....

...I'm not sure of anything that happened between that moment and now. A line of soldiers in Enclave black stood in front of a white mare in an elegant dress. Her mane was a deep, rich purple and effortlessly coiffed. I tried to take a step back and found my hoof wiggling over empty space. "... Come on, Charity.. We can talk this over." Twilight's voice.

"No, your road ends here, Twilight Sparkle. You and the pony you're riding. Killing you is a personal thing, for what you did to the real Rarity. Killing this pony will be... business."

"You always were a vain, cold-hearted cunt. Even before you doubled, and fell in love with yourself. Sure, most ponies saw Rarity the Generous." I snorted. Twilight seemed to have near full control. I raised a hoof, perhaps to direct one of the magic arrows forming. My eyes snapped open wide as a sickly green glow jerked my leg out painfully. I felt something snap in my shoulder, and I screamed out.

I collapsed into the water we stood in. A sickly greenish glow enveloped Twelve on my left side and ripped her into the air. I was forced to do nothing but watch as she was slammed against the wall again, again, again... Until there was a smear on the concrete and she went limp. The current took her, I couldn't bear to turn and watch her go.

I glared at the unicorn in front of me, and struggled up onto my three good hooves, dragging the dislocated one underneath me. I'd kill this bitch.

I grunted as I was pushed back. A blade forced its way into my mouth, and I tasted cold steel. "You talk too much." My eyes widened as my head was held steady and the blade flashed. A sickening hot tang filled my mouth as my tongue hit the floor. The sadistic bitch lifted it in her magic and actually took a fucking bite out of it.

My magic searched weakly for... anything. Something. Anything I could find. It settled on the dewar in my pack. I pulled it out and stared at it, before looking back at the mare. I'd have only one shot at this. Gilda nodded when I looked at her, and got ready to spring out into the sky. I jerked back and prepared to throw it, as the barrel of a beam pistol was jammed against my forehead.

I held still, as the blade flashed again, this time tearing into my pulled away shoulder. The tough material of my fatigues resisted.. refused to be sliced... and then my leg fell off with a crunch and a flash of pain.

"You should have given up. Your friends are dead. 105 is open. Everyone you know, everyone you've ever loved, was massacred. It's all over for you save the sobbing.. which there won't be much."

I drew myself up to my full height and spat. The next few minutes were all in slow-motion. Her eyes widened and the blade slashed wildly as I threw myself back and tossed the container. The sharp sword cleaved through the metal, and splattered her with the liquid inside. Her lips parted in a gasp, and her face flushed as if... oh my... I'd wasted an awesome thing that could have better been used on Magenta...

I didn't have much time to reflect as my head jerked back. A gout of red from the barrel of her pistol, fired wildly. I saw the laser with mounting horror a second before it lanced through my eye. Filling my head with a terrible heat. I felt... Air. Cold. I saw the mountain above me as I fell over the falls, limp and unable to even scream.

But I survived. There was a hole in my head. But I was alive. Fucked up. But alive.

I hoped the sharp rocks at the bottom of the falls would change that.

Rolling back to Level 6.

Quest perk updated; Shit Wrecked II; Wrecked Harder- Death is an impediment, not an energy drink. This time, when your shit is re-arranged, you'll suffer penalties to Damage Resistance and Agility. Also, the Wheel of Re-Traiting will be spun!

Trait Added; Sex Appeal- Look out, we've got a Rarity here. You'll have stallions and mares alike staring at your flank wherever you go. You -might- be able to use this to your advantage, but let's face it, it will probably be more irritating than useful.

Trait Added; Built To Destroy- You've got issues, kid. From sheer rage, your chance of critical hits, and the damage dealt by them is magnified. One thing though- your temper boils much closer to the surface. If you get too angry, you might randomly start combat! Also, you have a very... 'hooves-on' method for clearing jammed guns, that probably isn't very good on the finish.