Fallout Equestria: SIDEQUEST

by Sexy Pudgy Pinkie Pie

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Sad
Length: 69643

When 105 sealed, the ponies were given a missive. Every ten years, somepony must leave... One filly is ejected, and changes the Wasteland forever.

Fallout Equestria: SIDEQUEST is an alternate dimension story of Kkat's original, the titular Fallout: Equestria in which some things change dramatically.
But we all know that war, war never changes, no matter how much everything else changes.

Meet Spanner Wrench. She's a slacker maintenance mare living in Stable 105, which culled ponies from the Bayston area.. What does the Lottery have to do with her and her family? Why does one of the most powerful ponies in the Wastes have such high expectations for her? What nightmares will she go through?

She will learn many things. How to hate, how to fear, how to kill…

How to Survive, and how to Love.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-26 06:53:01 UTC

Mad World

Chapter One: Mad World

I was dying. Me, Spanner Wrench, daughter of Air Hammer, the head of Maintenance, was bleeding out in the Atrium. My head hurt, and I felt something poking out of my torn and broken skull that should never be on the outside of a living pony… A smeary trail of red lead back down to Ventilation, where a fan I’d been working on had restarted while I was still inside it. I was lying here... bleeding... dying... and nopony was helping me.

A legion of ponies were walking around in the Atrium, ignoring me as I died slowly at their hooves. They had about six shapes between all of them. My mother, my father, the unicorn I was supposed to call Overmare. An Earth pony that had bullied me and the Overmare until a falling pipe had put an end to his stupidity (oops). A faceless pony with wings I guess was a pegasus (there were none in my Stable). The stallion who ran the clinic.

I turned my face towards a sudden bright light, brighter than anything I’d ever seen before. I was sickened by the feeling of something in my back giving, and a sudden freedom that told me dragging my useless legs wasn’t an issue anymore. The Stable Door was opening… Slowly, inexorably opening. I felt there was something on the other side, and then I saw her. Celestia, in all her radiant glory, the golden symbol of her office somehow flaring out behind her. I begged her for succor.

“Please… heal me… Princess…”

Her benevolent expression shifted, her eyes narrowed. She grinned horribly. “No.”

There was a blinding flash, and I watched as the ponies I saw milling around turned to matchsticks in the blaze, before they winked out. I sobbed, watched them turn to ash in the fury of her gaze, my eyes closing tightly before her forehoof ended me with a crunch that I heard and felt despite it occurring.

My eyes snapped open on darkness. Complete and utter darkness where there should always be light. Dear Celestia, was I struck blind during the night? Buck me! As my eyes adjusted slowly, I peered around the room. Same four walls. Same methodical neatness. So I wasn’t broken, the lights were. Sighing a little bit, I pulled on my utility barding a moment or two after all four hooves were on the floor, hearing the familiar jingle of the tools stowed away in the pockets. I didn’t know why, but I always felt more able to do my job after putting them on and had an easier time unlocking my personal effects locker… Awkwardly tucking the sleeve against my PIP, I smacked and held down a button on its face until the screen glowed in overbright mode, bathing my surroundings in a sickly green.

I smiled a little bit, entirely ignoring my mane besides tying it back. A single naturally spiky lock fell forward, out of the rest and refusing to be tamed and shoved into line with the rest. Well good on it. Buck authority. My eyesight was restored to full capacity with me donning my eyeglasses. I don’t know how, but my other eleven senses were increased as well… A Mint-al had me feeling my usual intelligent self, and the color leached back into the world. I peered in my mirror, making sure I looked at least presentable and ready to start my shift on Maintenance, noticing dark circles under my eyes that I hadn’t noticed before my Mint-al. Ah well. A little sleep deprivation never hurt anypony.

The lights in the corridor were out as well, which meant my job would be simply swell today. I paused, closing my eyes a little bit as I thought. I had replacement bulbs in my quarters, cabling, everything I might need. Then again, a trip to Maintenance would yield the rest of my tools, reassure me that I wasn’t the only pony left alive after sleeping through a Stableocalypse… to Maintenance it was. The overbright mode on my PIP’s screen only illuminated about ten feet ahead of me, so beyond that I had no idea what was coming up until it was within my little halo of light. It was through this and muscle memory that kept me from making any wrong turns on my way down to the level I wanted, or walking into walls and stuff.

The next level’s lights were also off, about half of them. Stepping out into one of the pools of light, I stepped around a pony before walking into him. Noticing his cyan and navy blue mane, general dour body language that brightened when he noticed little old messy-haired me, I determined it to be a pony I knew only as Doof, and preferred to keep that way.

“Hey Maintenance, when are you going to finally drop the haughty bitch routine and lift that tail for me?”

‘When Celestia busts down the Stable door and gives you a brain, mud-pony… I wonder…’ ”Can mud ponies read?” ‘… Shit. Smooth move. Note;’  “learn to think and not say.” ‘…Celestia clop me...’

If the mud pony had heard me, he made no sign, continuing on his misogynistic mutterings. I wondered idly if all males thought with their dicks, if it was only mud ponies, or if it was just this colt.

And a colt he was same as I was still a filly; you could get out of school one of four ways: if an orphan could perform the same work as their parents and tested proficient at it; if you worked above grade level for your age, got your cutie mark, proved yourself mature enough, and tested out (Like me. Being of the Master Race of unicorn… This was no surprise.); you could pass your classes and aptitude tests somewhere in the middle (Like most ponies), or you could fail miserably. At everything. Strong ponies good at taking orders and not much else went to Security. All the other dumb ones went to Janitorial, and the records showed the Overmare’s office in one case.

“So anyway, Spanner, it’s lucky I ran into you before anyone else. So we can go find a…”

“Look. Doof, whatever your dirt parents named you. Cut through thinkin with your dick, or I’ll cut it off for you to help. What. The fuck. Do you want.”

His expression hardened as he stared at my forelock. My beloved, anarchist forelock. An electric blue that clashed with the pink of my coat, the fuchsia of the rest of the spiky mane currently tugged back into a rubber o-ring to keep it from interfering with my work. I grabbed an adjustable spanner from a loop on my utility barding in my magic- good heavy steel- as he drew his baton and took a step forward.

“What did you say?”

“Doof. Or did your mud-pony parents name you Doofus? Remember, dirt, the Overmare is also of the Master Race, and a friend of mine.”

I smirked as he let out a snort and dashed towards me, turning his neck to swing his baton as hard as he could at lil old me... who was currently slamming my heavy spanner into the back of his front left knee as I ran forward to meet him. He stumbled and went down heavily as I emerged from under him, pausing to turn and face him. “… Wow, you guards need better knee protection. If I hit you any harder I probably could have stopped your guarding days for good. Do yourself a favor, dirt.” I spat on his prone form and drew my small body up as high as I could; putting what I thought was an imperial gaze. “Hit the latrines, look at the pictures in your colt-cuddler magazine, you’ll be right as rain after a while. And don’t get in my way again, somepony’s got to get to fixing these stupid lights.” I laughed a little bit as I hung a right at the next corner, the MAINTENANCE sign over the stairwell more than a small clue to where I was headed.

The lights were on in Maintenance, which meant either the break was somewhere between this level and the one above it, or this level’s problem had been fixed. I trotted towards the sound of voices and slipped into the gathering hall along with the rest of C-shift, avoiding my mom’s gaze at the front. I listened in to what she was saying, not having any real hope of not being noticed; my mane was a dead giveaway, especially with me trying to hide in a group of ten..

“B-shift, your repair tickets have been completed. You’re officially off-duty as of now. Turn your keys in to C-shift.”

The ponies on the right turned, hoofing or levitating the rings of keys that we’d be entrusted with for the next eight hours over to us on C-shift, who tucked them away in our bardings or clipped them to belts.

“B-shift, go get a meal, shower, and hit your bunks. You’re back on in sixteen, remember.”

The fifteen ponies on the other side of the room- A and B were larger than C, we were just a skeleton crew to maintain and catch whatever work A and B shifts missed- left quietly under the watchful gaze of Air Hammer.

“C-shift, Stable’s yours. Stay out of Security’s way, and no slacking off. Your repair tickets are posted on the wall. See you in eight.” A mare of few words, my mother stepped back from her podium and turned towards her desk, slipping up into her chair as she turned her attention to some paperwork. Once out from under her gaze, we all rose as one pony, and turned to trot over to the board and see what we’d be doing. Swell, I was tasked with the light situation…

I sighed a little bit as I turned away, watching the other ponies file out of the room and across the Stable to make their repairs. My mother approached me, her expression hard as I looked up at her.

“You’re late.”

“Overslept, held up by a stupid mud-pony colt in Security who wanted to talk about prospective breeding options. I politely declined.”

She shook her head. “You know how the Lottery runs. You should think about being a little less disruptive and a little more punctual and care about your job, Wrenchie.”

I let out a little grump. “The Overmare is a personal friend of mine, mom. She won’t let my name come up.”

Nopony liked the Lottery, but it was necessary. Every ten years, somepony would have their name come up from the rosters of Stable 105, and be ejected from the Stable to explore and see if the outside could support life, if it was ready for the door to be permanently opened yet. Some ponies thought it was a way for the Overmare (or Stallion) to get rid of ponies she didn’t like, but nopony complained. You just did your job, and hoped your name wouldn’t come up.

Now, I wasn’t a dumb pony, I was just a little bit lazy when it came to actually doing any work, and a little leery of being copasetic with other ponies. Except the Overmare. I’d always been able to relate to her, and then her father had died and she’d tested competent enough to replace him…

I found myself crawling through ductwork some time later, chasing the electrical problem. I’d found nothing wrong all the way down to Ventilation. I found the problem; a vent fan had shorted everything and everything on the same circuit (other vent fans, lights…) had also gone dark. I stuck my tongue out and got out a tool, poking around inside it with the tip of a screwdriver held in my magic, PIPbuck screen in overbright mode to light what I was working on. “HAH! Spanner Wrench is best pony!” I grinned as I pulled out a burnt out fuse and some wiring, splicing new copper wire and a fresh fuse into it.

And then realized my mistake. The fan instantly kicked on.

“Celestia! Did they not shut off the fucking power?” My ears flattened tight to my head as I turned tail and ran as fast as I could down the ductwork, trying to escape the suction. My small size helped me move quickly because I didn’t have to crawl, but on the other side of the bit I was surely being pulled at by the current building in the duct. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

I could swear that I’d be a goner, and then I saw light. “Ffff-yes!” I leapt- I hoped this was the vent that I’d accessed the ducts through, but any port in a storm!

I sailed through the air, out the hole in the wall, and hit the ground heavily with a rattle from my tools. I could have kissed the floor, but Janitorial hadn’t been through yet.. buck that. I rose shakily to my hooves and turned at the hole in the wall that had nearly killed me, lifting the cover into place with magic and screwing it down. I was struck by my dream- hadn’t I been cut up by a fan? Weird…

Now that I was finished with my work, I was (technically) supposed to report back to Maintenance and see if anypony else needed help, or if Mom would give me another task; keeping us all alive took everypony working around the clock to make sure what was working stayed working and what was broken got fixed. But, as I have said earlier, I’m somewhat of a lazy pony when it comes to doing my job, soooo it was time for me to fuck off!

I sang a soft song to myself as I trotted along the hallway, levitating my toolbox along behind me as I allowed myself a brief moment to reflect on the world. Every night I woke, grabbed a shower and breakfast if I was early enough, shrugged into my utility barding and ran down to Maintenance if not. Every night I fixed a light fixture, or a terminal, or a door, or some other asinine thing that broke while other ponies got to work on more important projects. Worked on improving our standard of living instead of maintaining it.

I kicked at a piece of paper as I pouted. “Ain’t fair.” Now, it must be said that it sounded nothing like that to anypony within earshot; we’d gone into the Stable as Bayston-area ponies of varying backgrounds (even a couple families of lower-class citizens, probably in the idea of getting a good degree of variation or even for the Sorrel Hells of it). As a result, Equestrian Common had been given a beating. What somepony would know as a light accent before the war had turned into a full-blown dialect with its own slang and pronunciation rules.

In the Stable, our words carried r-sounds removed and placed seemingly at random, our vowels had hardened as surely as the packets of bubblegum that could still be pulled out of deep storage by a tenacious or observant enough horn or hoof, along with other ‘contraband’ items that had been mothballed against Apocalypse. Which reminded me, I needed another tin of mints…

I whistled cheerfully as I peered around, before nudging my Pipbuck to turn on the Eyes-Forward Sparkle, the spell taking a moment to take stock of me and my surroundings. I saw no white lines in the vicinity, and so I slipped into a grating close to the floor, crawling a path I held in my memory from my fillyhood, into Deep Storage. The humming of machines around me would interfere with the E.F.S. of ponies sent after my Pipbuck tag, and interfere with it even being picked up at all! I was such a genius~

There was of course a legitimate way to get there; the first time I’d been was with my mother…

“Wrenchie… Take a breath.”

I did as my mother said, my weak magic holding a BB pistol aloft. As I calmed, it stopped shaking and held still.

“Now aim at the target.”

I let out my breath, sticking out my tongue in concentration as I took careful aim, the pistol held up before me, three little white dots aligning on the white center of the target. My mother had found it and rebuilt it to like-new a year or so ago after Dadd- Tears obscured my vision and the pistol dropped before I caught it, expecting a sharp word from my mother. My fate hadn’t been sealed at that point, my C.A.T. (Cutie-Mark Aptitude Test) had revealed that I’d be a likely candidate for either maintenance (Like mom!) or security. I didn’t like the security ponies… Things had happened, and then suddenly I couldn’t find Dad around the Stable anymore… But mom wanted me to be able to do either. Only me noticing more than other ponies seemed to help me any with my pistol, but I was good with the batons and stuff…

My lapse in concentration earned a tap on the head with the butt of Mom’s handgun. She always told me that it had been passed down from Maintenance head to Maintenance head (our family, duh) since the first Head of Maintenance; Spade Sapper who had built the firearm. I didn’t know much about Momma’s gun, just that it was loud, had a little emerald on it that glowed softly, and the bullets it fired ripped holes in the targets we shot at and buried themselves into the wall behind them…

“Sarry ma… jus’ thinkin’ baout stuff…”

“It’s okay, Wrenchie. Put up ya gun, let’s go get suppah.”

I nodded eagerly as I tucked away my little BB pistol amongst the other contraband hidden away before following my mom up through the halls and through the door, mom stopping to pull something out of a control panel to make the rooms beyond inaccessible without the part and Section Head clearance…

                       ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’d always been susceptible to flights of fancy and lapses into catatonia where I sat quietly and thought about things, as I came up from now. My hoof nudged a couple casings that had been left on the floor as I gave a small sigh of memory, opening my toolbox and moving a couple things around before opening a hooflocker and digging through it. A couple tins of Mint-als went into the space, before I relented and added a few more so I wouldn’t have to make the trip again for a couple weeks.

There was enough drugs down here for me to start a pharmacy, but I only took Mint-als and the odd Med-X and once me and the Overmare had experimented with Dash… I shook my head with a small chuckle at the memory as I returned to the tunnel, checking my E.F.S. for white bars before wiggling out and replacing the cover, a jaunty tune coming from me as I headed back down to Maintenance after checking the time to make sure I wasn’t coming up on any deadlines.

My trip back was uneventful, no lusty Security ponies after my tail this time, nopony at all actually… I hopped down the last step into the Maintenance hall, trotting to the board and drawing a line through my name and work order. “I’m done, mom! Got anything else for me?” I blinked a little bit and turned around. ‘This is weird…’  “Mom? Ah you around?”

I wondered how I hadn’t noticed her when she crawled out from underneath her desk, probably something wrong with her finicky terminal. “Yeah, Wrenchie. The Ovamaah wants yeh in hea orffice.”

What could she want? “Well… Aight. Seeya inna few, ma.” I smiled and turned, trotting back out of the hall and up a few levels, nodding to unicorns and giving Earths a good berth as I passed them, most in bed at this time of night. “Only a couple moah hou’ahs, Wrench. An then it’s off-time.” I grinned to myself at the thought of a meal to replace the one I’d missed by waking up late, so cheerful that I even bucked at the Overmare’s office door to open it.

“Oh, Spannah, good to seeya.” She laughed a little bit and tapped her hooves together as she sat behind her desk, watching me . She looked like hell, apparently either the job hadn’t been treating her well or something had come up.

“Whassa mattah?” I approached her, hating the protocol that kept us at leg’s length from one another. I wasn’t even allowed to call her by name anymore!

“Well.. Ya ken… the Lottery comes up soon, and… Well…” She twisted her hooves against one another, biting her lower lip. “I uh… Dinna think the maneframe kin handle the extra work. It’s bin wuhkin’, but the results canna be right.”

I rolled my eyes a little bit and shook my head. “Well… Who’sit? You? Me mam?”

“Spannah… It’s you.”

        My world had been ended in that moment. I’d shaken my head, I’d cried neigh! That couldn’t be right! The maneframe must be broken… But every time we ran the Lottery program, even with fiddling… It turned out with me. I’d have to leave tomorrow. If I survived, I could come back in a year, but nopony sent out had ever come back. This maneframe must hate my family. First my dad, and now me?

        By now I was sitting in my room, waiting to turn the Stable over to A shift, and packing saddlebags I’d found. Technically this was against protocol, for an Overmare to give a pony advance warning, but she’d been my only friend through our fillyhoods. She’d explained everything. I could take no more than twenty pounds of equipment with me, including food and water supplies. I chewed a Mint-al pensively. They’d give me a weapon- probably just a baton from Security, and kick me out of the Stable in less than eight hours.

       I sighed and set the bags on my bed, dragging my hooves off towards Maintenance, ignoring ponies that walked the same way. I took my place on the right side of the room, and readied my keyring as my mom rattled off who had completed their work orders and who hadn’t, running through the ceremony, before finishing with ‘A shift, the Stable is yours.’ We hoofed off our keys, and C shift filed out, A shift moving to check the duty roster.

       I moved to the front of the room and waited for the number of ponies to decrease. “Ma.”

“Whazzit, Wrenchie?”

“I found out what the Ovahmah wanted.”

       “Whazzit?”

       “… The Lottery… Ma… my name’s come up.”

       She looked at me with a sad, quiet look, before looking away. Never a mare of many words, she turned away, looking at the wall. She levitated her pistol from her waist and held it out for me to take in my magic. “Go puttit wit’ yoah stuff, Wrenchie. I ain’t havin’ anothah filly, so you take it and give it to yoah filly when you get back.”

       I bit back tears with a small smile. “Thanks, ma..” Her vote of confidence meant the world to me. I knew how her gun worked, having watched her maintain and fire it many times, what the bullets for it looked like, and I decided to give it a name. Air’s Hammer. I tucked it into my barding and hugged my mom, before turning to trot back to my room and stash the gun with my saddlebags, before going to clean the gunk I’d accumulated by writhing around in ductwork all night off with a shower and get something to eat…

The luck that had kept me from dying in that ventilation shaft held, rather than the fortune that had dumped the maneframe’s decision into my hooves. I didn’t meet up with the earth pony from earlier, didn’t see anypony that would actually talk to me, honestly. I just grabbed my food and sat down in an out of the way trestle table, enjoying for a moment the crisp snap and bland taste of a carrot stick.

The information must have spread, somehow. Ponies were actively avoiding me like I had some Stable illness that could be transmitted merely by looking in my direction. It was almost uncanny. Ponies that would have sneered about my diminutive stature had learned to do so not in my presence or risk unleashing the balefire that had been packed into my undersized body, but there were always those that looked down their nose at Utility ponies. They lumped us in Maintenance, that kept the juice flowing to keep the lights on, water pumping, fields growing in with the ponies that did little more than gather and separate trash before dumping it into the respective recyclers.

I cleaned my plate like a good filly, and actually seemed to take stock in the idea that this was my last meal in a Stable, at least for a year. There wasn’t any question about me surviving. That duct hadn’t taken me, and neither would the Wasteland. I’d pass Air’s Hammer to my filly, and tell her the stories of each Maintenance head, starting with the legendary Sapper Spade just  before the war. I carried my tray to where it would be taken in to be cleaned and reused just like everything else in this Stable. Something broke, you replaced the part, or jury-rigged it, and took the faulty to be recycled and formed into a new part, everything stripped and remelted and forged and used until it broke at which point the cycle  started over.

Ponies died, well... we’d run them through a special recycler that separated them into the nutrients that made them up, that would be used to make the synthetic portion of our diet. There were stories that they used to not have the machine, that they would bury bodies in the field or in the roots of the few fruit trees we had that grew under the lights... So much calcium, protein, phosphorus, all lost...

Enough of that. No ghost stories, I was enjoying my final meal. Fluffy yellow protein-surrogate, a glass of juice from the apples we managed to harvest that was approaching an amber color, strips of pressed protein-surrogate, and rectangles of fried-up complex sugars. Good old Stable breakfast. Just sit and eat, ignore the faceless ponies that sat all around me and talked to their friends, ignore the fate that was facing me later today. Don’t think about any of it, Spanner...

I managed to choke down my meal and rise while levitating the tray, turning to look around the crowded diner. All these ponies would die. Whether they lived out their full life and gave back to the Stable what was put into them was another matter. Diseases sometimes found their way into the Stable and took out five, ten, fifteen out of our thousand or so, injury took a couple every year, then with stillbirth our numbers didn’t always level back out. Plus the fact that after over two centuries our gene pool was in need of some fresh water soon, or we’d die out completely from genetic mutations and the like. Ponies left, but nopony ever came back, nopony new ever came in.

Speaking of leaving, I could hear the distinct sound of the Overmare’s voice over the loudspeaker system and the radios of several ponies calling us all to gather in one of the larger meeting places. The results of the Lottery were being announced.

Well I left with the rest of the ponies in the diner, after giving over my tray to the food staff. I tried to get in as close to the front of the group as possible to avoid drama when my name was called.

The Overmare stepped up to her podium at the front, and arranged the speech she had written out in front of her before speaking. “My fellow ponies. I have called you today to this room for a reason. Today, we must do a duty. Ouah very way of life demands that we do this, the laws ah cleah. Once ev’ry ten ye’ahs, the computah that we use to control all the vital systems of the Stable spits out a numbah.

This numbah is the name of a pony. Ouah instructions say this pony must leave the Stable foh one ye’ah, aftah that they may come back and bring whatevah ponies they find, whatevah supplies, and a plan will be made foh the next ten ye’ahs. Othahwise, the computah will shut down completely, beyond all hope of being tuhned back on. It has happened once befoah, and I will not see it happen again, much as I love the pony the computah has chosen. I blame myself foh he’ah numbah comin’ up.

This pony is Spannah Wrench, the child of Aiah Hammah ouah current chief of Maintenance, and the descendant of Sappah Spade, ouah fihst Maintenance chief. Spannah come on up heah.” I did so, haughtily ignoring the ponies staring at little me as I stood facing the mare at the podium. My life in the stable flashed before me, as I ignored the mud pony from earlier’s angry glare. “Spannah, yoah numbah was chosen by ouah maneframe. As puh Stable proceedyuh, you will be issured a weapon from Security, given time to take whatever you’d like to bring outside with you from youah quahtahs, and brought to the Atrium, at which point the Door will open and you will leave.”

“I undahstand, Ovahmayah.”

“So it be.” She nodded and Officer Tanner nudged me, holding out a baton that I took and slipped into a loop on my barding. It didn’t take them long to escort me down to my room for my saddlebags, nor for me to buckle them on. After that, it was a bare fifteen minutes or so before I was sitting before the big 105 on the Stable Door that my dad had walked through ten years before, and somepony before that, twenty times since the Stable closed...

I turned to face the crowd, ignoring the door behind me, silently regarding them with every amount of derision I could muster. I didn’t even hardly react, having been around loud noises of the sort my whole life, when the door was pulled back and it rolled aside, exposing the entrance tunnel beyond. I spat, turned, and trotted over the threshold between the Stable and the Wasteland with my mission in mind. Find civilization. Make contact. Survive, and come back.

My vision flashed as the door rolled aside, everything I could see being cast in a weird blue color as my sight cut through the darkness of the tunnel. The corner flashed, and text slid across, a spell tied into my Pipbuck at work. “QUEST ADDED: ARMS, ARMOR, FRIENDS.” was what it read. Text underneath was an unmarked checkbox, and ‘Leave Stable 105’ next to it. The box filled with white, and it scrolled up, to be replaced with ‘Find weapons’ ‘Find armor’ and ‘Find friends’ in three separate entries. I took a deep breath and took a step forward.

My journey began.

Footnote:  Level up.

New Perk: Friend of the Night; you are a true friend of the night. Your eyes adapt quickly to low-light conditions indoors and when darkness falls across the Equestrian wasteland.

New Trait (2): Four Eyes; + 2 Perception while glasses equipped, -1 base Perception. Small Frame; Due to your small size, you have +1 Agility but your limbs are more easily crippled (25% extra limb damage)

Ich Tu Dir Weh

Chapter 2: Ich Tu Dir Weh

The Lottery. The Lottery had gotten me tossed out of my Stable for the next year, if I managed to survive out here for that long. My saddlebags held supplies, but I could carry more- a lot more would make me comfortable. Actually, about now I’d be comfortable stuck in that damned vent that had nearly killed me.

Anyway, enough groveling. Enough wallowing in whatever it was ponies were supposed to wallow in. It was time for action. Time to get out of this stupid tunnel. Definitely not time to think about that cog rolling shut behind me bearing a big ‘105’ that my barding shared... I whistled a jaunty tune as I started up the tunnel, kicking aside the skeletons of ponies long since dead as I headed up towards the bright light filtering in. Wait. Bright? Light? In a cave?

Sure enough, just like in my dream, Celestia’s glory was blinding me. I was eager to see the sky and the sun for myself. I’d like to say that I didn’t run for the entrance of our little tunnel. But I did. And tripped over a pile of bones, went head over hooves, and landed sprawled out with a skull dropped firmly over my head.

I took a moment to extricate myself from the pile of remains and dust off the bonemeal before starting off again at a more sedate pace.

I don’t know what I expected of “outside”. A bigger room than I’d ever seen before, with a giant overhead light?

The lights of the Stable were supposed to imitate the sun, yeah, but they could never have prepared me for the raging fireball overhead. Or what I could see of the bright expanse of sky. After a moment or two of watching the sun and sky, I took stock of the area surrounding the entrance tunnel.

It seemed to have been carved out of a ravine with thick sludge, mired ground wagons, and downed skycarriages filling the very bottom. My Pipbuck merrily clicked to tell me that I was soaking up radiation from somewhere. I tentatively stepped onto the hull of a half-submerged wreck, noticing the badly-weathered yellow pegasus emblazoned the logo on the side. Perfect.

Just as I hopped up onto the back of the skycarriage and prepared to squeeze inside, my vision blurred and color seemed to drain from the world, leaving everything less vivid than it had been before. My Pipbuck flashed a helpful warning onto the corner of my vision; I was suffering Mint-als withdrawal. Well, luckily I had quite a few tins tucked away in my toolbox.

After chewing two tablets, I felt better, and the world swam back into full focus and saturation again. I even smiled a little to myself as I examined the metal crates I could see in the trailer as I slipped inside.

I didn’t come across much of note, but stuffed it all inside my bags anyway (you never know when you can use random junk to jury rig), until I met a little pink-and-yellow box towards the front. I grinned to myself as I pulled a screwdriver from my barding and wiggled apart the casing enough to set the edge against the latch, a sharp whack snapping the flimsy lock and allowing me to pry open the case. I really wondered at the utility of locking up medical supplies, even if they were only being shipped from one place to another.

Anyway. There was a treasure trove inside. It made my heart happy to see all those ampules of Med-Ex, phials of Buck-Up and RadSafe, a couple packages of Rad-B-Gon, a doctoring magazine, and even a healing potion. I stamped my hooves appreciatively and just dumped it all into my bags, giving my Pipbuck a moment to sort it all.

I checked after a while, and found myself to be carrying a decent amount of drugs and medical supplies. It had all been categorized, and the Pipbuck’s inventory spell could help me grab anything I needed without digging. Cool, huh? A value had also been added to everything... In “caps”.

This puzzled me, until I fiddled around a little bit looking for answers. According to my ‘miscellaneous’ tab, I had ten bottlecaps in my possession, presumably taken off Sparkle-Cola bottles and the like. According to my currency counter, I had ten “caps”. My mint-als supercharged brain made the leap. Caps must be money out here.

Currency meant an economy. An economy meant that there were ponies living out here. That we could live outside of the Stable. That civilization had prevailed.

I moved on. The skeleton of a pony was cradling an assault rifle, and tatters of a security uniform of some type hung off him. I wondered how long he’d been dead as I took the rifle in my magic and picked up all the magazines for it that I could find scattered about. My endlessly useful EFS told me they were 5.56mm, the same as Air’s Hammer took.

I was startled when my bony friend’s head fell off, and a red bar flicked onto my compass. I turned the rifle towards the grayish winged blob that was pushing its way out of the eye socket. Two ugly yellowed eyes opened and it hissed at me, before spitting a nasty barb my way! Luckily it barely missed my small body.

I’d like to say I didn’t, but what I did in response was push the trigger with my magic and try to hold onto the contents of my bowels, bladder, and the rifle as it bucked in the magic sheath it was suspended in. I wasted twelve rounds before one happened to smack it in the body and kill it, causing it to drop.

I trotted over and nudged it, my EFS telling me that it was a ‘bloatsprite’. I  wrinkled my nose a little bit as I thought. After a moment I relented and pulled off a bit of the meat, wrapping it in a scrap of Bony’s uniform and put it with my belongings. The rifle was next to useless to me, but I kept it for its value anyway.

I wriggled my way out of the trailer before looking around for more wrecks to pilla... I mean salvage. I noticed a couple that looked promising, but just as I started towards them, my eyes-forward noticed enemies and I noticed movement. I started in on all the curses I knew as I counted all the bloatsprites rising out of the muck like it was some bad horror monster movie back in the Stable.

More bloatsprites than the current magazine held bullets, and I wasn’t time to reload it.

Time to cash out and hope to Luna they didn’t follow, goodbye filly! I turned tail and ran, still going through my (impressive, if I do say so myself) list of curses as I hopped from safe spot to safe spot over sludge that could easily swallow me whole. There was a trail that lead to the top of the ravine. I just took deep breaths and concentrated on galloping as I hit it and streaked up it as fast as I could manage. I felt like I was flying, I was alive!

I stopped at the top of the ridge and looked back down. The bloatsprites were nestling themselves back down into the muck and didn’t seem to be following. Well good. That’s what I’d been hoping for.

My Pipbuck chirped and told me that I’d discovered ‘Bloatsprite Ditch’, and was now in range of two radio stations; TruFax and Z-Core Radio. I dialed in TruFax’s signal and was treated to a blast of static that made my eyes water, and then the dulcet tones of somepony who clearly knew what was what and who was who came on.

“Traffic bumper-to-bumper all the way up the E-80, kids. If your morning commute takes you out that way you better be ready to climb.

Solar Union officials say the shelling of the little town of Riverside was accidental, due to a mis-aligned targeting system and computer malfunction, and further assaults won’t occur. Yeah, and I’m an alicorn princess, baby.

Now for today’s weather; excessively violent with a chance of dismemberment. Tune in later for our five-day-forecast!

Here’s Sapphire Shores, telling you that even though it’s rainin right now baby, Celestia’s bound to smile on you sooner or later. Here’s to that, hey?”

I smiled a little bit as I listened to the song. I noticed smoke off in the distance, and figured smoke meant a fire, which meant a camp, which meant ponies and directions to a settlement or just a place to stay the night.

I found myself walking along with the beat, happily singing along to Sapphire Shores’ adamant reassurance that better days were around the corner...

I’d almost approached the encampment when a couple things happened at once. The song ended and the DJ came back on, a little fuzzy now, and proclaimed her name to be Stereo Beat in a manner I couldn’t help but like, and started an advisory about ponies she called “raiders” who seemed like the sort to avoid.

I came down from my mints and shook out another two tablets for myself. As I was chewing them, I noticed several bars on my EFS compass. Well that was a good thing as I was looking for ponies. I turned off the radio for a moment as I slunk up to a wrecked groundwagon and laid down behind it, thinking as my EFS advised that I was hidden.

I crept forward and looked around, rubbing my eyes and turning off EFS to clear my vision and let me see if there truly was anypony around for me to talk to.

And that was how I met Knives. Once I’d turned off eyes-forward, she’d noticed me and snuck up behind me. I first discovered her affinity for blades when she tickled my kidneys with the tip of one. I silently cursed myself for turning off Eyes-Forward as I turned slowly to face her.

Now, imagine yourself in my hooves for a moment. I’d never seen a truly dirty pony before. Sure, I’d been dirty, seen ponies splattered with grease and worse, but nopony I’d ever seen had been very far from a shower. In the Stable, you could shower before starting shift, and again later in the day after getting off. We were stocked with bathing supplies till Time’s End, and we didn’t have to worry about water. Knives, however, seemed to have never seen soap before in her life. Bathing didn’t seem high on those of her companions that I could see’s priorities, either.

My throat dried up and I found myself unable to speak as I stared up at this huge dirty pony. She still held several sharp-looking knives in a telekinetic sheath and pointed my way. I didn’t like the look in her eyes as she watched me.

“Well, look what we got here. A Stable pony, unless I miss my guess.”

I suspected that meant nothing good for me as she stepped closer. “Stable Utility. Ah fix things. Stuff like ahmah? Ah notice yoah friend’s dinnae ha’ stuff in good repa’ah.” ‘Celestia, she’s grimy..’ “An’ whazzat reek? … shit …”

“Well maybe I’ll let you fix our shit. If you can make me trust you. Eventually.”

I finally placed that expression. She was giving me a Doof look. My ears dropped and pinned flat, as I backed up against the ground wagon I’d used for cover. I first thought to use my stature to fool her into thinking I was young, but judging by her look that was her interest in me. “... I …”

I thought fast anyway, and the Mint-als were supercharging me to greater feats of mental acrobatics. I swallowed as I felt knife tips tickling my jugular. I hatched a plot that I hoped would save my plot. “They sent me out here to scout. Ouah Stable’s openin’ foah good, and theah’s an advance fo’uhce of ponies well-vuhsed in the aat of breakin’ skulls with batons and usin’ high-velocity pahty favahs to aerate the heads of unruly ponies.” I gave her my best ‘Touch me and not even Celestia can save your flank’ smirk, already congratulating myself on talking down this monster of a pony.

She actually didn’t even flinch. That grin of hers didn’t change. “Oh really? I was thinkin’ you couldn’t be more than a couple hours outta the stable. So where’s it? Somewhere close? I know some folks with the Order of the Golden Dawn what’ll pay up good for eyes on that.”

Shit. Shit fuck shit fuck shit. I was mentally kicking myself from one end of my mind to the other, and then proceeding to beat myself into a small corner while screaming at myself for digging myself even deeper into the shit. I’d been out of the Stable all of an hour or so, and I was already royally fucked.

“So you face yourself a choice. I like you, filly, so you’re luckier than most that cross my path. You can become my trick filly, trade the location of your Stable for a decent enough existence. Or I’ll turn you over to my crew, and you’ll maybe be dead before they take your pipbuck and spit you over a fire.”

I was interested in keeping my leg, thank you very much! I was given a choice between molestation at the hooves of this mare for Luna knows how long with her word that I’d be treated decently, and being the plaything of at least ten ponies by my count with mutilation assured and not necessarily after I died. Well at least with the first I could kill her eventually and either take off or see about taking her outfit from her. “I...”

I swallowed and pushed the knives away from my throat for some breathing room before I noticed something. Knives wasn’t a mare. At least not entirely. Some mutation had made “her” something between a mare and a stallion. I was beginning to think I was still fucked, one way or another.

“Can I at least keep my barding and saddlebags?” Dear Luna, was that a whine?

“Mh.” That was a good noise. That was a thinking noise. This big black half mare slid the two knives she’d been encouraging me with into sheaths and tied them into place. Obviously she knew a thing or two about keeping those knives from unicorns that might use them against her.

“You do look kinda cute-like in that uniform. If you’ve managed to pick up anything that my boys can use, I guess I can’t say no to you using it.”

Well... I guess that was it. I hoped Knives here was a mare of her word.

She picked me up in a telekinetic field and fairly dragged me off into the trailer of the wreck, which apparently was where Knives and her ponies slept. She had a section at the end that was curtained off from the rest. I guess being the so-called “Head Mo-Fo-In-Charge” warranted a little privacy.

Needless to say my barding didn’t stay on very long. She found and took my Mint-als I’d had in a pocket, found nothing but tools and tossed it aside. She went through my saddlebags, took the rifle I’d found, all my bullets, the baton Security had given me... I just watched as she went through all my belongings, pressed into a corner of the trailer and trying to make myself as small as possible.

I barely objected to her touching Air’s Hammer. I don’t even think she heard my tiny voice telling her that it was an heirloom. Either way, she tucked it and all my mints into a lockbox and put everything else back into my bags.

I came down off my Mint-Al high just about the same time she turned towards me, setting aside my saddlebags and beginning to take off her own armor. My breath caught as she nipped the nape of my neck and carried me to the (thankfully comparably clean) mattress.

“Come, my little pony, let’s get some sleep.”

And with that, she just laid down, tucking me up against her chest with her forelegs firmly pressed against me. It seemed my plot was safe for now, but I was still stuck here. She seemed to quickly fall asleep, but I doubted she actually did, and I didn’t feel like even trying to sleep with the threat of what may happen. I turned the radio on, quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb Knives.

Without realizing it, with every story, every announcement Stereo read between songs, I was receiving a crash course in the state of the Wasteland, what life was like out here. I finally dropped off, soothed by the friendly voice of Stereo Beat telling me what was what...

A month found me smarter.

About the factions, what to look for in weapons. I still didn’t have armor, still no friends. Well... not entirely true. Cutthroat, as I learned her name was, turned out okay. I knew it might be Stockhoof talking, but I enjoyed her company, and she somehow made me want it. She also knew things that she wasn’t afraid of teaching me. Lessons in pleasure. Lessons in pain, lots of those.

Cutthroat was a clear-cut sadistic psychopath and wasn’t shy in inflicting pain on me. By this point I’d had both forelegs broken by her, luckily enough they’d healed alright with a potion. My hide was laced with scars that silvered my fur, including a nasty knotted one that traced from my chin up to my mane, a mirror to the tattoo curved around my other eye.

I’d known about Mint-als, and she’d used my addiction as a bargaining chip. It had gotten worse, so I relented and did whatever she asked to get a couple tablets here and there. After we knocked off a chem trader we’d been flush enough that she introduced me to all sorts of things.

Buck, which I’d known from the Stable, made me feel big as Cutthroat. Sonic, which was a Class-III controlled in the Stable, was like Mint-als for the body- sped you up until the world slowed down, made you feel alive. Alcohol made you feel stronger and made you likable if a little slower in the head. Dash, which was apparently made with Sonic and was a lot stronger, made you fly higher and faster for longer but the crash absolutely felt like shit. I got addicted to a bunch of them, with me and Cutthroat using habitually together.

It would once have ashamed me to admit, but only the first couple times were rape. After a while, I started to enjoy the abuse. Right about then, I stopped feeling pain.

My medicine magazine (and “anatomy lessons” with Cutthroat) came in handy after about a week, one of her raiders had a gun explode in his face and tear him up. Luckily for him I knew enough by then to put him back together. Cutthroat considered me a full part of her crew after that, not just her trick filly. She even gave me back Air’s Hammer and told me to medic it up if need be. My weird ability to see perfect in the dark as if it were daytime helped when I had night watch, or needed to fix a pony in less-than-optimal light.

My repair skill became useful when I designed a couple different armors for the crew that were better than what they had been wearing and made them look more like a raider crew. Their guns and stuff got fixing, and soon we were a respectable outfit. Scavenged parts went to repairing the ground carriage. Luckily it needed only a bank of spark batteries to power it, its engine was still good; we’d transformed it into a sort of rolling fort. Stereo Beat began talking about our first hits as a better equipped and more organized crew by reporting total silences from caravans, then survivors’ tales from those we let live and settlements we bullied.

She said that an Outlaw from a Stable, the same stable that kicks out a pony every ten years to stir things up, was to blame for “Cutthroat’s band of raiders and misfits” being all of the sudden more aggressive and better kitted out. I was glad stories were already circulating about me, that I was a force to be reckoned with out here.

“Whosis then?” I stabbed my cigarette in the direction of a pony wrapped in a sheet two of the boys were dragging into the cart I used as a workshop. The sheet was spotted with blood that made me think how not all the stains on my utility barding were oil anymore, that I was becoming more and more of a medical pony these days. A pack of cigarettes now rode in the chest pocket once occupied by the tin of Mint-als currently in Cutthroat’s lockbox.

The nicotine helped with the mint withdrawal a little, between when I ran out and I could beg ‘throat for more. Fixer helped with the Dash-shakes kept me steady and alert, kept me from needing until I could get more of the chems that had me between them ripping me apart and the withdrawals making me want to die...

“Mare a couple of the boys shot up. Boss wants her patched, given the speech... She says aye, it’s welcome to the team. No, collar, and we’ll find out what she’s worth.”

I took a thoughtful drag of my smoke, magically pushing stuff off my “operating table”. I’d read a medical journal or two the boys had found me, done enough lessons in how a pony worked, that I was tempted to introduce myself to her as “doctor”. The other two raiders put the pony down on the table and left me alone to work.

“Let’s see if those dirts even brought me a live one. Gettin’ tired of pulling bullets from corpses.”

I pulled the sheet back and looked the mare over. Pegasus, which surprised me a little bit. White, but it was bleached; I could see where the roots were growing back in a bubblegum-pink. Her mane and tail were a deep blue. I chewed a Fixer and turned on TruFax before listening for a heartbeat.

“Now remember, kiddies, to watch for color when you see tin cans. White and gold mean get the hell out of there or prepare for a shakedown, baby. Orange and read, or black and purple can be trusted. Those are Applejack’s Rangers or members of the Lunar Reich, and they’re out to make your life better, baby. So if you see one of their Knights or Paladins out there shooting raiders and patrolling to keep you safe, Stereo Beat thinks you should give ‘em a thanks. Or even better; some ammo.”

“Up next we got Daft Pony with ‘Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger.”

I bobbed my head along with the beat, tapping a hoof on the table as I examined the pegasus, keeping my recorder function open at the same time to take notes. I was startled when I found her left foreleg to be made of metal but took it in stride.

“Patient is unconcious, seems to have taken incapacitating but non-fatal hits to the stomach and ribs. Lack of bruising, odd way the bullet holes are formed indicates some sort of armor, probably powered. A bullet creased her skull, probably what knocked her the fuck out. I count... Five entry wounds, three exits, which means I’m digging lead and copper out of her.”

I took a scalpel and pair of tweezers from a pouch recently sewn into my barding and ran them through the flame of my torch a couple times before starting to work on pulling the two bullets from her and sewing her up. It took about twenty minutes before I had her injuries wrapped in healing bandages, a blood pack handing and replenishing some of what she’d lost.

I got to work putting together a collar for if she was (admittedly understandably) a little pissed off at us for shooting her multiple times. Just a shotgun slug rigged to fire into the skull of the pony wearing it if a trigger was tripped. Nothing so fancy as the ones one of the slaver groups we did business with had given us to put on a pony for a percentage of their sale price. Those had been sophisticated explosives shaped to pop a pony’s skull from the blast pressure but have minimal effect on ponies nearby. Beautiful. I noticed a small twitch and a deeper inhalation as she woke up.

“Good mo’nin’ sleepy head. I don’t suppose I could trouble yah foh yo’ah name and a bit of medical history foh my recahds?”

“PFC Magenta Sky. Enclave.” She rattled off a series of numbers in a tone that she was still a little out of it. She had a beautiful voice, and an odd accent I couldn’t place. “Left foreleg is mechanical from the shouldur. Connectif leads up a leetle higher.” She continued on with actually giving me an extensive medical history. Apparently where Stable ponies only got implantable contraceptives when they were old enough, the Enclave vaccinated against pretty much everything. I almost salivated at the thought of the tech she’d have.

“Well, ‘PFC Magenta Sky’. My name is Spannah Wrench, an’ I’m yo’ah doctah. How’ah yah feelin?”

“I am feelink like I vas shot several times, Doktor. But I am alive, so I guess I should be of the thankink you for puttink me back togeter.”

“You’ah welcome. My boss wanted you alive, so I did what I could to make shuh you stayed that way.” As I was speaking to her, I turned and looked up from the collar which was pretty much done at this point.

“Vell, vhatever your reason, you saved me. You do your profession and your kint vell.”

I smiled a little bit to myself as I returned to my work with the collar. “My boss is probably gonna take the news of youah recovery well. If you can’t tell by now, we’ah a raidin’ outfit. You will be given a choice when we get you on all youah hooves again. You can join up with us, we could probably use whatever knowhow you got and another pony. Plus a fresh face could get us back in with the caravans we’ve been ripping off so we can do some business with them instead of just shooting them all the time. Oah I put this on ya to make shuh we stay on the same page. We yake you anyway, I probably get a new toy till you decide you want to join oah we find out what you’ah wuhth to the Enclave.”

She fell silent, staring at my forelock. She probably noticed the 105 on the back of my barding at some point. “Ve haff a sayink in the Vasteland. ‘105 fucks us all’. Every ten years somepony comes out to shake shit up and make everypony’s lives worse in the end.”

I pursed my lips and stared at her for a moment. “So yah remembah the last pony that came outta tha Stable?”

“No, it was ten years ago. I vas very young zhen, only about six or so. Shame somepony of your age came out here.”

I levitated a scalpel very carefully and watched it for a moment. “I’m sixteen. Old enough ta wuhk in the Stable. Old enough ta be’n’engineeah out heah. I ain’t a foal.” Unless that’s what Cutthroat wanted.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, but didn’t make the comment I was waiting for. “I vas sent to help Ekvestria. I don’t think our meetink is coincidence. Perhaps you vill end up doink some good in the end. Yes, I vill fly viz you.”

I nodded a little bit and tucked the collar aside before approaching her and looking the mare over to see how the healing bandages were working, having her drink a potion for the rest and laughing inwardly at the faces she made. “Well if that’s yoah decision, let’s go talk tah Cutthroat and get you back intae ahmah.”

I watched as she slipped off the table and stumbled a little bit as she tried to take a step. She managed to correct, but I could see something was up with her metal leg in the action or something. “Actually, c’mere an’ lemme at that. Can’t have ya trippin’ ovah yoahself in the middle of a battle. Get on up theah ovah in tha coahnah.”

She slipped up onto my bed and watches as I tugged out the leads from her shoulder and took pliers and a wrench to pull off the mechanical leg.

I laid it out on the table and opened it, inspecting the leg’s insides with a small grin. I was transported back to my mum teaching me how to repair small things... I had something before me. It was broken. I had to figure out why, and fix it, the tools to do so. And somepony depending on me to do the job.

I narrowed my eyes and grabbed an oilcan as I tore apart the guts of the mechanical limb and spread the gears and electrical systems across the table. Magenta ceased to exist. The Wasteland dropped away. It was just me, staring down this obstinate pile of scrap. I could almost hear my mother lecturing me in one ear.

I just stared, seeing how it would all fit together and how it would work. A sheet of blue paper in my head filled up with technical drawings in white a I took mental notes and leaned from the Enclave model and planned out an improvement. I looked up at her and smiled a little bit before turning my attention back to the repair at hoof.

“So this is Enclave tech, huh?”

“Ja. and zis isn’t even an advanced model. The Enclave has laboratories vhere bright minds do good vurks, factories vhere criminals vurk at chopping down scrap metal and turn out goods to protect ze Vasteland.”

I smiled to myself as I inspected the pieces for metal fatigue while wiping them clean of the old grease with a rag. We talked pretty much all through me regreasing every part and putting them back together in perfect alignment. I talked about my life in the Stable and what I knew of my ancestry back to Sapper Spade. She lead the conversation with what it had been like growing up as a member of the Enclave, and being a direct-line descendant of Scootaloo.

Founded as a joint effort between Pinkamina Dianne Pie and Rainbow Dash, the Enclave had been another faction in the war that had sought to end it at any cost. Dash had been unable to remain loyal to all of her friends, but she’d worked relentlessly to save Equestria. Pinkie just wanted the laughter back in her life, the music back in the land she’d loved. Scootaloo had followed Dash into the Enclave and became a decorated officer, and was pregnant when the bombs fell.

Stalliongrad had been a city of industry during the war, and became an Enclave... well, enclave. It was now where art and manufacturing were approaching pre-war levels.

After about an hour I sealed the leg and re-attached everything up to Magenta’s shoulder. She worked the leg and smiled to herself as she hopped off my bunk and took a couple steps before looking to me. “Zank you, Spanner Wrench. You do your kind vell. I vill make up zis repair to you.”

I smiled, as I lead her to meet Cutthroat and explain that Magenta was willing to lend us her skills. I was for once not unnerved by the wide grin that showed off her metal teeth, some of which were sharp and pointed. She seemed actually happy as she said that the pegasus would belong to me.

It didn’t take us long to locate her armor and weapons, which were as beautiful as her leg but unfortunately a little the worse for where what with the bullets and the holes punched in the armor. Her guns were weird, ran off spark batteries. Seven barrels. Six in a ring on either side, with another one in the middle. Pulse beam? Maybe.

I saw her look as she trotted towards a pile of armor pieces in Enclave Black and pulled out a couple bits of metal on chains. She slung them onto her own neck and continued on to the corpses of three pegasus ponies. I had the decency to look away as she mourned the loss of her companions. She was quiet... I’d seen that look before on other ponies.

Heard mothers wail over their dead sons and husbands while we dragged their daughters and them off to the slavers. And I’d watched and felt nothing. In the Stable I’d watched ponies get caught in machinery, push Security too far... And felt nothing but relief that it hadn’t been me. Even my own near-death experience had barely affected me.

But for some weason, I couldn’t watch magenta. I watched the sun, let Celestia’s fireball was its warmth over me. Did I mention I love the sun? I heard motion and looked to Magenta as she sat down next to me. “I vill fly viz you. But I must tell my muzzer of zheir deaths, and bring in their tags for our records.”

I nodded and wondered what it would be like to have siblings. I think I already knew what friendship felt like. QUEST ADDED: HOMECOMING QUEEN flashed across my vision, with ‘Take Magenta Home’ as an objective.

It took a week to convince Cutthroat to let me do my own thing for a while, away from the raider gang. In that week, I taught Magenta many things I’d learned... In the end, she told one of her males to keep an eye on her operation and hooked herself up to my cart, came with me and Magenta.

That night, Cutthroat told us a story as we lay close to the fire with the cart behind us a bit for some cover from anypony approaching. It was a story I’d heard before but never tired of listening to. Her red eyes (totally red. No pupil, no sclera even.) had seen a lot in the long years she’d been alive. The bombs that had blown Equestria to an irradiated wasteland had been the fireworks on her twenty first birthday. The story she told was of Equestria’s twilight.

-------------------------------------------oOo------------------------------------------------

Today was my twenty-first birthday.

Or at least that’s what I thought. I could remember twenty one years of being Cutthroat, so that’s what I was basing that on. Only thing else I remember is Luna, Nightmare, serve and protect until my hearts stopped beating.

Something had been done to me twenty one years ago today. I was huge- I could look Luna in the eyes while sitting down when she would do troop inspections- but I think I was that big before whatever it was they did. The more-than-mare something extra as well.

Lotta metal in me. Plates, pneumatics, I could tell they’d taken whomever I’d been before and made me a better warrior. I had presence. I had wings, made of metal. Huge, showy, could cut a pony in half with ‘em.

We were stationed in this little town out in the sticks called Ponyville. Before Celestia decided she wanted another go, they’d all lived there.

“Who?”

Those Stable-Tek mares. Apparently they’d all been good friends at one point before the war. Couple important ponies still lived there. Sweetie Belle kept her sister’s business there, apparently rented out the shop to some up-and-coming or something but kept it as a place for herself to stay when not touring or talking to ponies.

Anyway, it was my birthday, and my squad dragged me off into the town with the goal of floating me in booze and baking me in any chems we could lay hooves on, have us a good time. They gave me a tin of this stuff they call Pinkie. It’s like Mint-Als on Buck-Up with a bit of Sonic for good measure. Makes a pony more mellow, friendly, a damn sight smarter, makes you notice everything. That was just the beginning. Most of the others left after we hit the first bar, but a couple I actually liked stayed with me for the rest of the afternoon.

We’d stopped for a treat from this little bakery where that Enclave mare - Not Dash, t’other one- had gotten her start before the war, run by a brother and sister now. He didn’t seem to like us, but she chatted us up, said I reminded her of “Auntie Pinkie”.

Must have been the chem, that had me acting like this pink little mare of an Earth pony. Cute kid all things considered, the unicorn had been, but I was focusing on her stories. She even brought me a cake, ‘Happy MSGT. Cutthroat’ writ real pretty-like in icing acros’t the top.

I was feeling the chems they’d stuffed me with -because of it being my birthday and all all- all playing nice and having me actually be pretty damn cheerful for once by time we left that little bakery. I excused myself and went off to explore this town while I still had the chance - orders were we were to pull back in a couple days or so and I was sick of all the farmland anyhow.

Round sundown I hit up another bar for another drink or four. I hear singing, some Sapphire Shores goodie, and I look to see who was treating such a song so sweetly as that. One thing lead to another, and she invited me to stay with her the night.

We never did make it back to the boutique that night, we got held up by some drunk that took offense to her being out in public with a mare- Lunar Reich no less. He launched into a spiel about me being of the “oppressive blackguards” of the so-called “usurper to the throne of the Solar Empress” before testing to see how many .44 slugs it would take to piss me off. Should have seen the look on his face when the hammer snapped on an empty cartridge just about the same time I crushed his skull with my forehooves.

Taking six shots, killing the dick, and comforting the mare with me meant I missed the first flash. Sound of it caught my attention, though. Me and her both looked up, at the sun over Canterlot. I knew more were coming.

Sure enough, the white bitch fired back. The mountain spat missiles and Dashed-out pegasi, both sides hitting each other with the big guns. The war’d gone thaumonuclear in that instant.

I saw one of the machines that had been built using Earth pony ingenuity, unicorn magic, and pegasus know-how to let a pony fly- only saw it for a second. I saw it like I had just taken Stopwatch, the potential sun dropping off the underside in slow-motion. Ponyville wasn’t hit, they’d dropped their payload into the surrounding countryside where we- the Reich forces in that area- were camped.

A second sun burst over the orchard out a couple miles. A third fourth fifth. I knew we must be hitting her cities, killing her forces just as easily, but that’s hard to think of when you were suddenly half-blind from the sudden day.

I pushed her flat and fairly threw myself on top of her as the concussion wave tossed ponies to the ground, broke windows. Behind it was a wind, hot and dry, that browned and burned trees and tore up some of the buildings around us.

And then there was silence. I helped her to her hooves, and we sat in silence, mourning Equestria. Those ponies that had given everything, those ponies and whole cities killed by the balefire.

For us.

-------------------------------------------oOo------------------------------------------------

Magenta had questions she hadn’t interrupted the story with. “Vhat became of her? And ze brozzer and sister who ran the bakery?”

Cutthroat shook her head and watched the fire for a moment before answering. “Back then, I was still Master Sergeant Cutthroat. I wasn’t yet Cutthroat the raider queen. I still believed in the Reich, the ponies I traveled with... He eventually died of the radiation poisoning, the other two weren’t as lucky. They’re ghouls. The baker mare I lost with the Cloverfield Society, the singer manages Trufax and appears on Z-Core every now and again. Spouting garbage, though.”

I winced. From what I heard, ghouls had life worse than regular ponies. It made me happy to know that two who by all evidence deserved it had a pleasant or manageable existence. It was also clear Cutthroat was hurt bad by the instant loss of everypony she’d ever known, and watching the country she’d sworn to protect die while she lived.

I trotted over to and leaned against the big black mare. She told this story frequently and was upset every time, it seemed not all wounds were healed by passage of time alone. I wondered if she’d ever find solace from the ghosts (and ghouls) haunting her.

Soon enough the fire was banked, and me and Magenta slipped into my cart to share my bed like we’d for the last week. Her forelegs held me as we fell asleep with Cutthroat watching over and protecting us.

Tomorrow was a new day. We’d reach the heart of the Order-controlled territory, I’d probably fuck everypony I’d ever known in the Stable when I turned over the location. Fun.

Hey, I didn’t make it this far by just shakin’ hooves.

Footnote: Level Up.

Quest perks added: Fox; your experiences have taken something from you; you no longer feel any physical pain.

Medicine +25

Perk added: Awareness; you instinctively notice things in your environment and when confronted by a creature. Slaver’s Mark; you took the tat and can deal with slaver groups freely. The law-abiding may object to the ink on your face, though!

Companion perks added: Artistic License; you are more creative than the average pony (inventing/planning is easier and requires less skill). Bulldozer Backup; a simple nod to the ponies following you may be all you need to do to convince whomever you’re talking to to see things your way.

Fillies And Gentlecolts

((Author’s note: Due to complaints, I will no longer be transliterating accents. Just remember that Cutthroat sounds like she’s from Dublin, Spanner pahks huh cah in the yahd and drinks beeyuh on the powatch, and Magenta arranges the blocks!))

I woke up with a strange buzzing feeling in my head, and half my vision blacked out. The ceiling above was not the one in my cart that I’d fallen asleep watching. “Wh..”

        A low grumble caught my attention, and I looked down into one eye of a pegasus. Or... at least what was at one point a pegasus. She had bits of skin, and most of her fur missing. I blinked as I took in my first ghoul. “Where’m I?”

        The pegasus took a piece of chalk into her teeth and scribbled on a slate, before showing me what she’d written in surprisingly clear mouth-writing.

        ‘Crater. I found you shot twice in the head. I did the best that I could.’

        I winced. By her word, I was lucky to be alive right now. “Why can I only see out of one eye?”

‘Bandage. You should leave it on, it’s to cover your ink there.’

Oh. Duh. This mare must be kind enough to fix up somepony with the slaver mark curled around one eye as well as smart enough to make sure nopony knew her patient was scum. “Thanks. Whomever you are. You’re good pony.”

The mare smiled, and I was spared the sight of her cloudy eyes facing two different directions when she did so.

‘I’m not exactly equipped for brain surgery here. You’ll have to pay the Peace Corps or another more skilled doctor to get the bullets out of your head.’ She erased, probably in the manner that a speaking pony would clear her throat and “change gears”. ‘In the meantime, I’d like to travel with you. Stable ponies interest me, I want to see what you’ll do.’

I shook my head as I pulled myself into a more upright position, fighting off a sick feeling. My PIPbuck said that apart from the concussion, the lead aspirin in my head, and fractured skull, I was fine. That I could handle as much damage as I normally could.

“Where are the ponies that were with me? My cart?”

‘There was evidence of some kind of fight breaking out near where I found you in a shallow grave. Whomever shot you didn’t want you found, or your friends treated your corpse decently.’

I blinked. This mare was a grave-robber? I hope she had a good reason for it... She was making a sound in the back of her throat to get my attention; ‘My name’s Ditzy Doo, what’s yours?’

I smiled. “I’m Spanner Wrench,” ‘Celestia...’ “I need a Fixer.”

She got a queer look on her face and shook her head. ‘No. No drugs. They make you perform, but you can bring yourself up to that point they bring you on your own. And in the long run you’ll pay dearly for using the chems.’

I sighed and looked down at the blanket she’d covered me with while I’d been unconscious. I was already trembling. “I need,” was all I could choke out. Ditzy shook her head.

‘The craving will fade eventually. Or we’ll find you help. Either way...’

She smiled a little bit and pulled over a drawing of a pony skull with the legend “The Wasteland Survival Guide.”

I blinked as she continued writing on her slate. ‘It’s become my life’s work. Or my undeath’s work? I’ll get good information on chem usage and first-hoof stuff about the horrors of addiction from you to put into it. It’s nearly finished...’

I blinked and nodded a little bit. “Where’s my barding? My things?”

‘In the other room. I was working on a project before you woke up. Just...’ she made a sound in the back of her throat before waving a hoof and continuing. ‘I need more information on radiation’s effects on ponies, I just know that ghouls or at least I regenerate in radiation fields but I need more information for the book.’

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

‘200 rads should be sufficient, but 600 would be more definitive. I’ll finish my project while you’re out.’

I winced. I really didn’t like the sound of this. But I owed her my life, so I struggled out of bed with her help and started towards the door out of Ditzy’s little shop and into Crater proper. The town really had been built into the bottom of a hole. It was difficult to determine how many buildings there were clinging to the crater’s walls, nor how many ponies lived in this little town. I shakily walked down the ramps that lead to the bottom of the town... and was confronted by a pool of water with an unexploded balefire bomb sitting in it.

“What in the Sorrel Hells?”

Cutthroat had described them, of course, but her stories hadn’t prepared me for the brooding thing sitting before me. An egg, with a fin assembly riveted to the end not buried in the ground and hoof-holds welded onto each side for pegasi to carry it. I made a choice then. I ignored the old stallion preaching to passerby and waded close to the bomb. My magic allowed me to pry off an access panel as I carefully climbed upon it. My pipbuck clicked faster and faster as I soaked up radiation.

“Where... Ah! There!”

I chuckled to myself as I wrapped the core in a sheath of magic, being careful not to set off the reaction. Lead shielding from the guts of the bomb flowed like liquid to encase the core as I multitasked with holding the core and maintaining the spell that would cause the metal to act that way. The clicking slowed, and I let out a breath as I slipped off the shell and replaced the hatch. The danger of a live thaumonuclear device was past, and my EFS told me I was suffering from advanced radiation poisoning, or so I guessed from the red RAD alert in the corner of my vision where the white CND had been. Apparently my crippled head had fixed itself.

I paused to throw up the nothing I had in my stomach, groaning as I dragged my weak self up to ‘The Kitchen Sink’ as a sign said Ditzy’s store was called. I set the lead-encased core on a low counter that split the shop and fought off the queasy feeling. The pegasus smiled at me. ‘For me? What is it?’

“I ripped the core out of that bomb. If somepony didn’t know how to encase it, or did the wrong thing around it...” I made a noise simulating the sound of a thaumic device going off. “I’m also about as irradiated as I can get without burning a hole in the floor.”

The ghoul made an unsettling sound I took to be cheerful laughter as she wrote something on her slate. ‘I thought it was just your “glowing” personality.’ Har. Har. Har. ‘Now, how do you feel?’ She picked up a pen and one eye watched me as she prepared to write some notes.

“I think... I can hear my chromosomes crying. Now what are you going to do to fix this?”

She set a glass of milk on the counter and smiled vacantly. ‘A little brahmin milk, a few magnets... And maybe a few happy thoughts...’

I drank her concoction and shuddered. Whatever it was, it cleared my rads pretty quick while the mare puttered about me. She took some notes and disappeared into the back, coming out a bit later with my barding and saddlebags. She’d done something, my barding had stuff on it that seemed to be on the order of making it actual armor. I nosed open one of the pouches and morosely observed that she’d replaced my chems with Radsafe and Rad-B-Gon.

‘I was hoping, too, that you would tell me about your Stable? It would make a great forward for the book.’

“Stupid ponies, food sucked. Good riddance.”

“Hm.” ‘It must have been safer?’

“Yeah, only part of it that’s any better than out here. Clean water, all you could ever want, nopony wanting to shoot you on general principle, and soap. Oh how I miss soap.” And no monster of a mare after your flank.

She laughed again at that and wrote down everything I said before writing something to me on her slate. ‘I armored your barding and put braces in the saddlebags to let you carry heavier loads, Spanner. And I tossed an advanced radiation suit into your bags. Medical subsystems. I’ve held onto it all this time because it’s foal-sized, next to worthless. I,’ “uh” think you’ll get use from it.’

if she hadn’t seemed so kind-hearted I probably would have read into this. But, given what i’d learned of her, she’d simply had a medic rad suit that would fit me, and the desire to do me a kindness by giving it to me.

“Thank you, Ditzy.”

‘What are you going to do? What adventures will we have?’

“First. We’ll get the lead out of my brain. Then I plan on finding out who tried to kill me and paying him back in kind, after meeting up with my friends.”

QUEST COMPLETED: ARMS, ARMOR, FRIENDS. flashed before my vision.

‘They shot you. Twice. In the head. Seems to be reason enough to not go after them.’

“‘For a wounded man shall say to his assailant; if I live I will kill you. But if I die, you are forgiven’. Such is the rule of honor. He put two in me. I survived. He won’t be so fortunate.”

‘I understand. Tomorrow, you and I will go out on your grand adventure.’

I nodded and slipped on my newly armored utility barding, leaving my saddlebags on the counter. I like the weight of it, and the reassuring firmness of the armoring against my chest and stomach, knees and shoulders. I pulled air’s hammer out of the holster built into the foreleg of the barding, and five rounds for it. Tipping the barrel towards the ceiling I opened the cylinder, causing it to spit out the cartridges onto the floor before I put in the fresh rounds and snapped it shut. A second or so, a whine told me that the spell bound in the operational parts of the gun had activated. The bullets would now ignore armor. Sapper Spade had been one cool bitch. I collected the bullets from the floor, tucked them back into my bag, and put the gun away, smiling to Ditzy, who smiled right back.

QUEST ADDED: I GOT BETTER. flashed across my vision, an objective underneath the label; ‘Find Stitch Smile’. I blinked. “Dad? He’s still alive?” An arrow flashed on my compass, pointing me in the direction I was supposed to go...

“Well.. Ditzy, looks like step one is to track down me da’.”

The pegasus mare smiled and nodded. I found her company no less enjoyable as we ate a meal of radhog and a bright red apple, juicy and sweet, sliced and in a preservative syrup. She was nice, funny, and honestly I liked her even though she looked like she belonged in a Romareo movie. I tried to ignore her tears as we slept that night- sharing a bed with a ghoul wasn’t as bad as I would have thought, just as comforting as Magenta’s presence. I think... We did one another some good.

“Are you sure this was such a good idea!?” I called out to Ditzy, who was flying over me, drawing the fire of raiders interspersed among the store shelves before us. I lined up a shot, Air’s hammer cracked, and one of them dropped. We’d come across a supermarket while walking along the E-90, and Ditzy had immediately taken off towards it, hastily writing for my benefit ‘there could be salvage!’

The mare nodded serenely, her face currently hidden from my by a featureless helmet that had once been black, the rest of her body sheathed in padding and kevlar. She swooped up and cycled her weapon, holding it in her hooves.

It made a strange sound, and spat something at a cluster of the raider ponies. An explosion rocked the store, three red bars winked out, and the ponies were thrown about in spatters of gore. I laughed a little bit and holstered my own firearm, running and scooping up a baseball bat in my teeth.

I couldn’t quite reach the pony now trying his damndest to skewer me with a spear made of sharpened rebar, but one swipe could kick his forelegs out from under him and bring his skull to where I could crack it open and break his neck!

She gave a toss of her head that lead me to believe she’d rolled her eyes at me, before her gun thumped and spat another grenade.

        One left... I hopped the pharmacy counter and looked around. And caught two barrels worth of double-aught twelve-gauge buckshot in my right side. It knocked the breath from me, I was pitched sideways, and felt the damage with a cold clinicality as I looked towards the stallion prying shells from his sawn-off. He dunked in two new shells and cocked it. I grabbed the gun in my magic and shoved the barrels up, went to give ‘em to him when a pink beam slammed into his head. He pitched sideways and dropped, eyes glowing, his brain liquified by the magical energy.

I took a breath and took stock. I watched Ditzy loot the corpses before collecting them and lining them up in a row. I nodded to her as I turned to grab everything the pony that had nearly taken my face off had on him. Twelve gauge shells in buck and slug, a knife... ooh Dash... “Come to mamma~” I coughed and jerked my head as I hid the inhaler. “Door’s locked, see what you can do about it, I’ll have a look-see around.”

She nodded, I couldn’t see her expression behind her blast helmet. I grabbed a book that I noticed, a couple mags of 5.56, as I trotted off to see what I could find in the bathroom.

Somepony had set up mattresses, a table and chair, in there. I kicked the door shut slowly and slipped up into the chair, holding the inhaler between my forehooves and sticking the useful end into my mouth. I pushed the button, took a deep breath, and gave a shiver of orgiastic bliss as every cell of my body clamored for the drug. I felt instantly better, and smiled as I tossed the inhaler. A phial of Buck-Up sat on the table, I ate all the tablets in it, shot up one of the Med-Ex I found.

“Luna... Yes~!” I shivered and laughed to myself as I swept the small mountain of caps, Med-Ex syringes, and some syringes of a chem I’d never seen before into my bag. I kept one out to ask Ditzy what it was, and slowly walked around the room dumping all the chems, caps, medical supplies, ammo, and the odd weapon into my bags. I was higher than a kite! and happy. If only there had been...

I nearly squealed in delight as I found a tin of mints! I opened it and chewed all of them. Now I was happy as a pig in shit and had another room to clear. About ten minutes later, I trotted up along behind Ditzy, whistling cheerfully.

“Any luck?”

A snap and a look from the mare told me that was  no. I sniggered and nudged her aside, pulling Sawn-Off’s shotgun out and switched the shot in the barrels to slugs. I snapped it shut and put the barrels against where the bolt of the handle went into the jamb and pulled the trigger to the first firing position. Where the deadbolt engaged got the other barrel, and I pulled the door open.

“There! Unlocked.”

Ditzy shook her head and followed me into the pharmacy and got to work on the locked case of supplies while I got to cleaning the place out. If I could move it, it went into my bags. I watched her for a moment, and trotted off to see what I could find around the rest of the store. Another fridge stacked with random Pre-War food, useful junk, and a quiet corner to take the Sonic I’d found in the pharmacy. Oh, and a key that was marked ‘pharmacy supply’.

Ditzy had made zero progress with the lock, anyway.

“Grab all that crap on the counter, my bags are gettin’ full. I’ll see what I can do about this.”

No sooner had she turned around, than I quickly put the key in the lock, turned it, and put it back in a pocket. She looked at me at the sound of the click and shook her head. Out came her board.

‘Cheater. Find a key?’

“Don’t get pissed at me, just cos I’m a master of unlocking.”

She shook her head and swept everything into one of her saddlebags before sitting back. I showed her the syringe. “Whazzis?”

‘They call it ‘Medic’. Put you back on your hooves in ten seconds flat.’

I pulled my barding back enough for me to stick the needle into my side, and hit the button. It felt a little weird to feel my cracked ribs knit, and the ugly bruises fade almost immediately.

“Hey, that’s cool. Found four or five of them.”

‘And Buck-Up. And Sonic? Dash? Mints definitely. I’m not stupid, Spanner. Where’d you shoot up the Med-Ex? Your hip?’

She shook her head disappointedly as she shoved roughly past me.

“We’re back. Hey, wait, something’s not right here...”

Well shit. More guests. We trotted out and waited in ambush behind a set of coolers.

I was struck by a sudden memory. Shooting lessons with Mom that a radroach had interrupted, only to be put down by a single quick shot straight through its tiny head from Mom...

oOo

“How’d you do that? Geeze that was cool..”

“SATS. Stable-Tek Arcane Targeting Spell.” She did something to my Pipbuck, and bars popped up on my vision, one in the lower right. A compass. A white line in front of me. “You should see now. That is the spell’s charge. It’s a function of the Pipbuck.” She showed me how to find and engage the spell she was speaking of.

The world stopped. I was presented with data my mind wasn’t capable of processing; now I realized thinking back that I was clinically being told by an effect of the so-called ‘seeker’ spell that found targets that my mother was standing before me, targetable. My mum was sectioned into her component parts, and I was given a 95% chance to hit anywhere I chose to look. I shook my head, she must have noticed something when I let the spell go.

“From there you could have targeted me. SATS would have helped you by slowing things down, made it easy for you to hit me.” I nodded, filing this all away in my packrat brain to try and understand later. She said something as we walked out and I returned to the present with a twitch.

oOo

And it had stuck with me, waiting to surface, for all this time. “Someday. This might save your life..”

I smiled and slipped into SATS. With the chems running through my system, I was good. Conditions were optimal. The others didn’t have any chance in hell...

“Love you mom.”

Boom. ‘Do you want it.’ Boom. ‘Do you need it...’Boom.‘Let me hear it.’

        ‘What was that?’

        I smiled and kept walking. Me and Ditzy were still traveling along the E-90. Eastward. In the direction of my arrow.

        “Magic trick Mom taught me.”

        “Ah.” ‘Three perfect headshots- between the eyes... Is this a ‘Stable’ trick?’

        “Ff... You’re nopony’s fool, are ya Derp. Yeah, it’s stable. I can do it again. Just need time to cast it.”

        ‘Here should be safe. Let’s look over our haul.’

        She put down her grenade launcher and beam pistol, along with her helmet, as she sat down on the roadbed. I realized that from where she’d picked, we could see anypony coming before even my EFS noticed. The pharmacopea I’d stuffed myself with ran out just about now, so I was in a crappy mood. I shut off EFS and tossed my bags at her before stripping and flopping onto my belly.

        “Fuck that, you do it, Bright Eyes. I have insufficient fucks for such a task.” I lit a cigarette, and promptly relaxed as best I could. This mare was starting to get on my nerves. I ignored her little noises she made to get my attention, even her poking me with her slate. She stopped just when I was about to see if SATS helped with beating in a pony’s skull with one’s hooves...

        I woke up with Ditzy standing over me and holding me down, eyes wide and wings popped open fully, holding me down. I had something wooden in my teeth that I spat out. I tried to focus my eyes at the ghoul’s not-entirely-unpleasant face.

        “Wh...” Her chalkboard was held in her teeth.

        ‘Seizure. I thought it was a tantrum at first, but your eyes rolled up and you frothed..’

        “Bullets probably ain’t doin my brain good.”

        ‘No. MINTS. DASH.’

        “Right. I still think it’s the lead aspirin in my skull.” Prodprod. She hadn’t changed her writing...

        “Alright, whatever you say-write whatever you know what I mean, Derpy. Let me up. How we for water?”

        She got off me, wrote. ‘Six bottles marked “WATER” full of cloudy liquid. Two clear ones.’

        “So... Eight bottles, two of ‘em clean.”

        ‘No. Eight of what looks like water. Vodka’s clear. Moonshine. Several industrial solvents.’

        I shook my head and opened one, took a sip. “Mm. Water.”

        She rolled her eyes at me, followed as I trotted to where she had out stuff spread out. That nudge and noise again...

        ‘First we must do something.’ She dropped a box of matches at my forehooves, and jerked her head to where a small pile of we’d recovered sat. Doused in kerosene. ‘Burn it.’

        I could see a tin of Pinkie sitting on top. I remembered Cutthroat’s words about it. “Like mints on Buck-Up, with a bit of Sonic for good measure.”

        Phials of Buck-Up. Sonic and Dash inhalers. Angel. Havok. Stopwatch. Shakeout. Chems I was addicted to. Chems I liked. Chems I’d wanted to try.

        I felt the barrel of Ditzy’s beam pistol against the back of my head. I shook, and not just from the Dash-crash.

        I lit the match.

        Ditzy let out a small snort as I stared at the ashes of the chems that’d been devoured by the flames. I want to say I had dove into the fire and rescued some. it certainly would have been the “BAMF” thing to do. But I turned after a moment, and looked at her. She offered a tablet. “Fixer?”

        ‘Yes. I saved enough to keep you from falling apart until we can find a doctor who can help.’

        “Okay then.” I chewed the tablet. “What all did we have?”

        She nodded towards the top sheet of a pad of paper near the neat assortment of gear. She’d catalogued everything neatly into a list.

‘Weapons;

1 hunting rifle(.32) 1 beam pistol

1 pistol(.32) 1 5.56 gun

2 knives 1 rebar spear

2 zebra pistol (10mm) 1 grenade launcher (40mm

3 apple grenades (frag) 1 sawed-off-shotgun (12ga)

3 police batons 1 pistol(10mm)

2 pool cues

Aid;

6 bottles dirty water 2 purified water

10 bottles alcohol 5 Medic

6 boxes apples 4 cans beets

8 sparkle-colas 3 Luna-colas

1 Solar Sarsparilla 7 pork’n’beans

2 boxes sugar bombs

Miscellaneous;

15 rolls duct tape 20 scrap metal

1 chalk board 4 (20pc) white chalk

1 motorcycle hoofbrake 3 reams paper

1 motorcycle gas tank 4(15pc) boxes pens

4 lawnmower blades 2 (20pc)boxes pencils

3 pilot lights 1,143 bottlecaps

10 surgical tubing, 1 toolbox assorted tools

1 lead-encased balefire bomb core

Ammo;

28 40mm grenade 37 .32 round

6 40mm(HE) 6 shotgun shell (12-ga)

6 40mm(INC) 2 12ga(SLG)

6 40mm(SPK) 41 10mm

110 5.56 40 SMC’

“Certainly were thorough. Go through my pockets too?” I snickered a little as I looked at the paper and the spread. “What’s a balefire egg? You lugged the core along with ya? What’s SPK, HE, INC, and SMC stand for?”

She thought then scribbled. ‘Miniature balefire bomb. Yes. Spark, high-explosive, incendiary, small magic cell. Electric burst to fry bots, more bang than normal, grenades that burn. Little battery type things for my beam pistol.’

“Ah. Let’s pack up?”

She nodded. ‘Let’s start by separating the guns and ammunition. You carry all the crap you picked up.’

“Ooh. I call shotgun!”

Ditzy shook her head and made her choked sound that told me she was laughing. I slipped back into my barding, and holstered Air’s Hammer before taking all the 5.56. The sawn-off went into the bag I wasn’t filling with ‘junk’ as did the .32 ammo and the .32 pistol. Ditzy grabbed her kit, the ten mil, and all the guns chambered for that. I gave her a baton and took the rest of the melee shit, slung on the rifle. She carried the rest of everything.

On a thought I changed ‘quests’ as my pipbuck called them to ‘Homecoming Queen’. Sure enough, there was an arrow on my compass leading me to Magenta’s holotag. Pretty clutch, ah?

“Happy day. Magenta’s someplace I’ve heard the Peace Corps has been sitting as of late. We can kill two birds with one stone, or at least get two bullets out of my head at the same time we find my friend?”

Ditzy nodded and stood up, slipping on her helmet. Her face was hidden by the thick black glass of it as she took to the sky. I wondered how she could fly so tirelessly with that heavy armor. I knew mine wasn’t very light, or the stuff in my bag, or the hunting rifle laying on my back...

“I’m tired... My hooves hurt... Can we stop for a rest?”

The pegasus chirped suddenly and waved a hoof to get my attention. We’d worked out a system of signals and sounds she could manage. She’d see danger before me, so she could tell me what she saw... I drew Air’s Hammer in anticipation and warily sized up the ponies that approached me, aware of Ditzy somewhere above us on overwatch. Three. Two earth ponies, one unicorn. Unicorn had a limp, one to the bad leg. Ditzy would probably hit either both of the others with a grenade, or one of them with her beam pistol. Chest shot for the left dirt, his skull looked like it could stop bullets dead.

“Whassat Enclave mare circlin us for?”

“Call it an insurance policy, my good stallion.” I gave what I hoped was a friendly smile. He recoiled from the grimace the scars on my face twisted the expression into. One of the earth ponies drew his pistol, pretty swagged-out ten mil, but the unicorn stamped his hind hoof presumably to keep him from aerating me. My face fell and I took a step back.

“Well then. We’re hunters, of a sort.”

I raised a brow. I noticed the unicorn staring at me a little close for comfort, with special attention to my scars and tattoo on my face. I narrowed my eyes and got myself ready to put him down. “Yeah? What you hunt? ‘Hog? Gator?”

I lit a cigarette and looked at Ditzy, gave her a small nod. She stopped circling and hovered from where she had a commanding view of all this. “Ponies. Ones who have taken the mark. Ponies who have one way or another attracted the eye of Solar Flare to them. And sometimes contract work for upstanding citizens. Somepony wants you dead.”

I took a deep breath and slipped into SATS. The same questions slipped unbidden into my head... One to the leg of the unicorn. Two to the chest of the male on the right. The world slowed nearly to a stop as I took the mouthgrip of Air’s Hammer and fired those three times. Boom.Do you want it? Boom.Do you need it?Boom. Let me hear it... I let out that breath as the world turned again, and a flash from my companion snuffed the other dirt.

I laughed to myself as Ditzy landed and began checking the two corpses for gear as I used my magic to drag off the injured unicorn beneath the raised roadbed a little. “Get their stuff nice and neat-like while I entertain our friend here.”

“You’ll not get me to talk, foul opportunist...”

“Oh.. Yeah. I paid attention in Interrogation 101..” I smirked as I tightened my magical grip on my baseball bat and laid out a selection of knives...

        I crawled up onto the roadbed a while later. Tired, with a warm glow in my heart of sadism and Wild Pegasus. I cheerfully wiped blood from my face, and adjusted my new snappy fedora.

        “Broke my bat. Didn’t wanna use the sledgehammer too much.”

        I whistled and finished wiping my face as I watched Ditzy cook a meal. ‘I heard. Weren’t very quiet. Laughs made me sick...’

        “Ah, well, I’ll be quieter next time. They were bounty hunters, somepony put a price on my head for defusing that nuke in Crater, apparently. “The law” they said they were. Thousand caps for proof of my death by a Golden Dawn general by name of Gilda Stormstrider.”

        ‘So we know who had two put in your head.’ She seemed thoughtful. ‘They probably view you as a threat to the status quo- the Order is doing well right now and they’d like to stop the Enclave from gaining the ground they have been lately.’

        “Yeah I guess. How we fixed for supper?”

        ‘They had oatmeal. Coffee. Preserves. Both the Earths had .44 revolvers and ten mils, all of it completely tricked out. Nice hat, his?’

        “Yeah. So let’s eat already. Unicorn had a .357 with an HD cylinder, long barrel. These ponies were pretty flush. Probably have caps out the ass, mods ain’t cheap.”

        We sat and ate, drank coffee, and I smoked through most of a pack of cigarettes. I was still dripping blood, Ditzy had gone quiet. When I looked, she was writing. “Guide?”

        She shook her head and got her slate back out. ‘Just some notes. I finished outlining that section while you were getting your information.’ She looked at the sun, before looking back to me. ‘We can probably get there tomorrow if we walked all night.’

        “No problem. Hey, is everything alright? I would have thought that you’d be used to that, living out here all this time.”

        She shook her head. ‘That’s not it. I was an explosives expert with a wetwork team. I’ve watched my share of ‘back room antics.’’

        “So? What then?”

        ‘We didn’t have anypony on our team less than the age of twenty eight. They all looked their age.’

        I raised my eyebrow as I kicked dust over the remnants of our fire. I took the unicorn’s trenchcoat- it would fit me comfortably and was lighter than the armored utility suit. Ditzy took my Stable barding, I gave her the unicorn’s revolver and bullets as well. My new coat had a rifle scabbard, and holsters for both ten mils and forty-fours. Cool.

        “How do I look?”

        ‘Like a raider’s foal attempting to dress in her mother’s clothing. But impressive enough I suppose, knowing your abilities and potential, and your.. Temper.’

        I smiled and lifted a hoof dramatically before starting off. I enjoyed Ditzy’s company immensely, both when we were conversing or silently traveling. But I missed Magenta. … I missed Cutthroat...

        We made good time, but I was starting to tire by the morning. We passed a caravan headed back along the road. It was strange to not hold them up, or to try my new guns on them. Ditzy managed to buy something cheap off them; a patch that would cover my tattoo to keep us from attracting attention.

        I saw a hundred caps change hooves at the gate, and leered at the stallion standing guard as we passed. And that was how me and Ditzy made it to the Fluttershy Medical base.

        My first experience first-hoof with the Peace Corps was an absent-minded doctor who cheerfully said hello and just went on with his work. From what I saw they were treating ponies indiscriminately! I never once saw caps change hooves for anything. I even saw foals.

        I was approached by a matronly mare while Ditzy was elsewhere, she seemed to have gotten it into her head to ask around on her own.

        “What are you up to? Where’s your parents? Are you one of those troublesome Crusaders?”

        I blinked. “Looking for a friend. Fucked if I know. Who now?”

        So help me, she actually lifted me with magic and started dragging me away. “With a mouth like that, no parents, definitely a Crusader. Go play with your friends and leave the doctors alone. I know you foals have it hard, but you should play and not steal things from us..”

        Really. I writhed in her grip angrily, managing to face her. Air’s hammer slipped free from the holster on my foreleg, the barrel nudging between the mare’s eyes. “Put me. The fuck. Down. My mar was in a Stable last I knew, and I’m lookin for me da’. I don’t know who these ‘Crusaders’ are, but I ain’t one and I ain’t no foal. I’m sixteen Sun-scorned years old. I’m just small. So get that through yer thick skull, or a bullet will be the next thing get through. Aye?”

        I don’t think she heard or understood much of what I said. The gun against her head with an angry pony on the other end of it did all the talking I needed. She dropped me and pulled away, going quickly back to what she had been doing. I huffed and put my weapon away before straightening my coat. I heard a thick accent and a half-strangled attempt at speech that made my mood lighter. I turned and grinned.

        “Spanner! You are alive! I was so worried...”

        “HNNGH!” ‘Don’t cause trouble!’

        I shook my head. “Sooo... I’m missing time here, fill me in, Magenta.”

        “Oh.. We met with some ponies, they took you off to talk privately with somepony. We didn’t think anything of it. They must have taken you by surprise, I don’t know. We couldn’t find you, we split up and waited. Cutthroat went home.”

        I nodded. “magenta, this is Ditzy Doo. She pulled me out of the grave the Order’s ponies dumped me in, saved my life, and we’ve been traveling together ever since. She don’t talk much but writes.”

        The gray mare nodded slowly, both eyes watching my Enclave friend. Magenta let out an incredulous breath and saluted. “Lieutenant. It’s an honor..”

        ‘Private First Class Magenta Sky. The honor is mine.’

        I smiled a little, and flicked quests back, the target changing to my father’s Pipbuck tag. He was close. “I’m glad I found you, and the both of you can get along.”

        ‘Can you pick locks? I can’t do it well, and Spanner is going to end up hurting somepony with her method.’

        I snickered a little and looked around. One-eyedness was weird.

        “Oh, we’re going to find somepony who can get the bullets out of my brain, find the bastard who put them there, and pay them back in kind. You two have that ‘follow the stable pony and see what she’ll do’ thing going on...” I grinned widely as I looked up at the sun. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to murder a stallion from Roan named Status Quo.”

        Fillies and Gentlecolts, please... Would you bring your attention to me? For a feast for your eyes to see... An explosion of catastrophe...

Footnote: Level Up.

Perk added: Follow the Leader- You have greater skill in talking ponies into following you or staying once they are!

Guns +25.

Companion perk added: Firemare- your friend has taught you to love the bomb. You take less and deal more Explosives damage. You also know your way around detcord and plastique.

Quest Perk: Rad Regeneration- A stupid idea has twisted your chromosomes like a kitten with a ball of yarn. When you suffer from Advanced Radiation Poisoning, you automatically regenerate crippled limbs.

True Crime

So like that I was saying time to shake shit up. I decided then and there that I would rise on a pile of corpses and drown Equestria in an ocean of blood. I grinned to myself as I watched the two mares that were my companions.

        ‘You’re crazy.’

        “Soo... Going to do what now?”

        “Get the bullets out of my head. Then we’re going to change things. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Come out here, solve a mystery or two, rack up an impressive killcount, and save Equestria?”

I know a way to stop this, but I don’t think that it’s right.

        They were both startled by my sudden manic energy, by this bad sign my head wasn’t screwed on right. I wasn’t quite bouncing circles around them, but I was certainly pacing.

        “I think we need to find your father, quickly, Spanner. And maybe an addiction specialist, I think.. something bad is happening. I’ve seen your chem usage habits enough to know that you use too many, too large of doses.”

        I was beginning to suspect they were talking behind my back. Whatever. Not a problem. Let them talk! I lead them in the direction of my arrow, ignoring the blood dripping down my face from.. Somewhere. My eyes? Was I up to crying blood now? Nosebleed? Didn’t matter... Had stuff to do.

        Before long, we’d reached a wall of stacked vehicles. There was a gap, with a colt standing on guard peering out over them. Earth pony. Blue cape. Patch with a rampant earth filly. No cutie mark. Some sort of helmet, and of course he had a gun. And of course his first reaction was to shoot me. I was lucky the coat was bulletproof...

        “OI! The fuck do you think you’re doing? Try it again and I’ll end yah, colt!”

        “Get used to it, filly, this is my fucking town and y’looked sketchy.”

        I cleared my throat and shook my head a little. “What? your head on straight? I’m looking for somepony.” I wiped blood from my face and thought up a quick lie. “My bruther. He ran away, told me he was gonna live with the Crusaders, couldn’t take quiet life in Riverside no more...”

        He seemed to buy what I was selling. “Okay. You can come in to look. We’ll kick your ass if you try something though, and blank flanks only!”

        I rolled my eyes inwardly and improvised, my voice turning flat. “The pegasus is my slave, and the ghoul’s a pet. I don’t go nowhere without them. One hundred caps and a Sparkle-Cola for both of them says they come with?”

        He appeared to think over my offer, then nodded. He spat on his hoof and stuck it out, and I suppressed a shudder at his filthy mud pony ways. I just paid him and brushed past him, careful not to touch him.

        “You thought quickly, Spanner.”

        “I think clearer and faster with mints.” I snapped, grumbling a little bit as I looked around, Magenta sighing and falling into line behind me as I lead our little party into the caves. I stopped at what was labeled the infirmary, my arrow blinking somewhere inside.

“Ditzy, you see if there’s somepony we can trade with here.. Try for parts, I doubt there’s anything else they’d part with too cheaply. Magenta... Go entertain yourself and try to stay out of trouble. I’m going to go have a talk with my dad.”

They both nodded and left, Magenta striking up conversation with a colt and trying to learn all about the Crusaders by sound of it. I smiled and turned to enter the little building. “Dad?”

I trotted into an entryway, head canted a bit. The small building consisted of one hallway with three rooms branching off it. I heard somepony call out from the second door on the right.

“Nopony here by that name. In fact, nopony around here even has a dad. Who’s that out there?”

I turned the corner and stared at the foal looking up at me, pausing in sewing up a colt. He looked back at what he was doing. Gray-blue coat. Unicorn. Yellow mane. Combat medic uniform, goggles, a white cape with the rampant earth filly patch. Some sort of identification? Did it have something to do with the Crusaders?

“Why’d my dad’s Pipbuck tag lead me to you? His name was Stitch Smile if that helps...”

“Stitch Smile was my father. He’s dead, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here with the Crusaders.” He lifted his left foreleg and waved it to show me the Pipbuck there. What. “He had it put on me before he died and the Peace Corps brought me here to practice medicine.”

I sat down. I couldn’t get my head around this. Something must be rotten, pulling me to the core... “I need bullets out of my brain. So I’m sent to find a foal? WHo happens to be my kid brother.” I paced, grumbling to myself as I thought. Goddamn my nose wouldn’t stop bleeding either..

“Bullets in your head? How are you still walking around? I.. May be able to help. I’ve learned a lot about medicine, brain surgery.. should be within my skill.” He finished what he was doing, and looked back up at me as I leaned on the doorjamb, lighting a cigarette.

“I’m Spanner Wrench. I guess I’m your sister. Where do we go from here?” So help me, he actually took my cigarette and crushed it before going to sit on a couch off to one side.

“Happy Healthy. Most of the kids here call me Doc or Medic, I suppose you can do the same, Span. I’d need someplace better than this, tools to do the surgery. There’s a medical center the Peace Corps built before the war in Bayston, we shouldn’t have any trouble since it’s been abandoned since the war. Should have everything we need there. Plus medical supplies. Or experimental devices. Lot of stuff to be picked.”

I grinned a little bit and nodded as he wrote something down and moved to follow me out of the building. “So we’ll find my friends and get the fuck out of here. Um.” Problem. We were in a cave. A big, winding, backtracking, easy to get lost in cave.

“Where are they?”

Idea! “One went to see if there was anypony she could trade with, and I have a tag I can follow for my other friend.”

He snapped an odd pistol under his coat, and a black set of saddlebags on. “Flimflam’s got a shop deeper in the cave, we’ll probably find your trader friend.” I nodded as he lead me. I’m not sure how I felt about meeting my brother. I’m not sure how I felt about my dad being dead. I suppose I wasn’t feeling anything yet, or couldn’t feel anything.. Whatever Cutthroat had done to me had broken me that badly. I smiled a little bit despite myself when I saw the roomful of junk, watching my brother talk to an earth pony. I felt the kevlar of Ditzy’s armor against my side, and had no recollection of events between the office and here.

“So we ready to go?”

Taptaptap. ‘Where’s Magenta?’

Oh. Right. “Around here some’res. Gimme a sec and I’ll go track down her tag and find her.”

She smiled a little and bumped her nose against mine. I felt a slight stirring.. ‘I’ll stay here with your brother Go get your marefriend and then we’ll leave.’

I nodded and turned to leave, and found myself laying on something soft in a place I didn’t recognize. I felt Magenta’s forelegs around me. I blinked and pulled the gauze packed tight against my eyes and muzzle off before looking around. Nighttime. Campfire. Ceiling. No walls. Fuel station? “How’d we get here? Wherever here is?”

“I’m not sure. Used to be a fuel station before the war, servicing the E-90. You hit the ground and started seizing, and the bleeding got worse. There wasn’t much we could do except stabilize you, and the Corps refused to help when they saw your tattoo, and they “politely” escorted us out with guns. The LT and I took turns carrying you, we just wanted to get somewhere safe...”

I smiled up at her and yawned. “Why? I feel fine. Maybe a little shaky, and my chest is kinda tight. I’d be better without the fucking lead in my brain and with some mints washed down with a Sonic.”

She shook her head as I nosed open her saddlebags and sat back with a Sonic inhaler between my teeth. I pushed the button and took a deep breath. “LT says the drugs are ripping you apart inside. Maybe even caused a bleed in your brain, we don’t know.”

I rolled my eyes a little bit and sighed to myself as I felt the chem chasing away the shakes. I felt better almost immediately. “Yeah, whatever. I need. You know that, and you know you’ll keep stuff by for me. Like how you kept this Sonic on hoof.”

I smiled a little bit and finished off the chem before tossing the empty inhaler into the fire. I sat back down next to her and prodded her side gently. She just blushed and watched the fire for a moment. “You know, you look better with the dye washed out of your fur.” I loved her reactions.

She was strange, her first conversation with me had consisted of me basically telling her that she belonged to me. She’d spent a week learning what that entailed, and what I was capable of, what Cutthroat had taught me. And she not only put up with it, she willingly subjected herself to the abuse... I kissed the barely-healed place on her neck where I’d stubbed out a cigarette.

“You are more pleasant when not in withdrawal. Pls I like to make you happy. But Spanner, you promised to take me home...”

I leaned against her and nipped at her as I thought. Pretty damn cheerful now that I had Sonic in my blood. “I know, Magenta. Look, how far are we from Stalliongrad, right now? Where’s Ditzy and my brother? I’m fine, we can go right now.”

“Not far. Five-six miles or so. I was flying in this direction while you were unconcious. Ditzy took off with your brother on some errand for the Guide. She left your armored barding but told me to restrain you if you tried to do too much.”

I slipped on my utility barding and smiled as I slipped the coat on over it, dunking my hat over my head, blue forelock poking out under the brim, eyepatch covering my tattoo. My saddlebags went overtop of it all. I checked the loadouts of all my guns, and looked to Magenta.

“Why don’t you get your armor on, let’s leave them word and go out for a walk. I’m interested in meeting your mother.”

She nodded and put on her insectile power armor, her face hidden shortly by the helmet, which had a skull painted on the front of it. Her laser cannons followed, six-barrelled Gatling with a center aperture for accurate single shots, the whole assemblies on either side plugged into spark batteries. No-ammo cheater... I smiled and shakily started off down the road.

Apparently we made it to Stalliongrad without incident, because the next thing I remember was Magenta telling me to keep my eyepatch on as we walked through a security checkpoint. Two Enclave ponies in uniforms took Magenta’s name and an assumed one for me, and checked her holotags. I looked up at the statue of a life-size pegasus in a proud pose. Or maybe was it slightly aggressive?

“That’s Rainbow Dash, one of our founders. The likeness is apparently -perfect- as far as we can measure, and it’s unknown just what kind of stone the statue is carved from or with. No toolmarks, and it’s been sitting here in the square exposed to the elements for two hundred years. Rain in the summer, ice and snow in the winter, and baking sun.. No eroding whatsoever, like it was carved earlier today.”

“Amazing. She was pretty.”

Magenta nodded and lead me up a set of steps to a large, ornate building, through the set of double doors at the top. Mithril bindings. The doors themselves heavy, ebony. Once through I saw the massive brackets that could hold a full-sized tree to hold the doors shut. This wasn’t no pansy palace, this was a castle, built to withstand a siege. Interesting place for an Enclave enclave.

“Airman First Class Sky, requesting to speak with Colonel Cloudkicker.” Her helmet’s breather altered the way she sounded oddly, distorting and somehow amplifying it, making her sound almost robotic. She was speaking to a mare sitting behind a desk, seeming to at once be a secretary and receptionist as she touched a device on her throat and whispered, before nodding to us and returning to what she was doing. Magenta lead me across the checkerboard-patterned tile of the massive entry hall towards a room at the back.

She nudged open the door, and a pegasus mare looked up from her desk as Magenta removed her helmet. She was the spitting image of the painting behind her, except maybe her mane was longer and better cared for, and her face wasn’t as torn up. The plaque under it read “Lieutenant General Scootaloo”. Her expression softened, those lavender eyes watchful as Magenta laid her dead companion’s tags on the desk’s blotter.

“Airman Basic Glory. Killed in Action. Senior Airman Cloudburst. Killed in Action. S.. Staff Sergeant..” My armored friend took a shaky breath. “Stormy Day. Killed in Action.”

“Magenta... Have you accomplished your mission? Did you find her? Or did your sister and comrades die without meaning? Why have you brought a raider foal into our midst.”

I sat down and grumbled a little bit to myself, removing my glasses and eyepatch, rubbing at the irritated area, staring down at the blood on my hoof.

“This mare saved my life. My comrades were brought down by raiders, I took multiple hits but this mare helped me. She is from 105.”

Cloudkicker narrowed her eyes a little bit as she watched me appraisingly. Yes! That’s why she and Scootaloo in the painting behind her looked the same. That piercing stare more than the color of her coat and mane, the sensation that she saw straight through you to whom you really were. She glanced over my tattoo, my scarred face, my bloody eyes, the electric blue forelock peeking out from under my hat. “Collect her armor and disarm her. Surprise will want to speak with her, if she’s the Stable Pony.” Magenta nodded at the Colonel’s order, and took my coat, hat, and armor. She put them in her own saddlebags and took mine from me. “Magenta will take you up to see her.”

My pegasus friend nodded and lead me out of her mother’s office, and back out into the main room, to a set of doors marked with the Enclave’s insignia- an ‘E’ with three balloons and a lightning bolt between the serifs. These obnoxiously ornate slabs opened on an elevator, Magenta whacked the lowermost button on the wall. We dropped... I don’t know how far, past labs, studios, barracks, machine shops, training areas...

“This place is almost like a Stable.”

“Yes, the Enclave commissioned Stable-Tek to build this bunker to help keep the Enclave alive. Unlike Stables.”

“Sorry?”

“Stables weren’t meant to save anypony. They were social experiments. We have records, Scootaloo admitted her guilt in Stable-Tek’s actions and provided evidence that implicated her friends, even her adoptive mother Rainbow Dash and her friends in the conspiracy.”

The doors opened on a room, plain but for a circular table in the center and a maneframe along one wall. The monitor on the desk lit up, a bright line across the center that oscillated with the speech I heard next issuing from speakers somewhere.

“Ah. Spanner Wrench, unless I miss my guess. Forgive me for not meeting with you face to face. National security measures to uphold, you understand. I am President Surprise, pleasure to meet you.”

“Crusader Maneframe mark... four? No, five. Impressive. Given the power, I could be speaking to the imprint of a pony long dead, clever programming that would lead me to think I was speaking to a pony, or a broken program somehow having achieved sapience.”

“Smart mare. But I assure you, I am the pony I say I am. My name is President Surprise, and I am using this terminal to communicate with you. The fourth option- I am a flesh and blood pony safely cloistered elsewhere. This maneframe holds our history and acts as a custodian of the systems we use, nothing more.”

I waved a hoof and let Magenta light me a cigarette. “Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss President. What did you want to speak to me about?”

“I make an effort to meet with all the Stable Ponies that come my way. They have... A unique ability to change things. I wish to make things better, make them right.

For you see, Equestria has remained a nation in distress. Oh, we have made great strides in eradicating the dual blight of Lunar Reich and Order of the Golden Dawn.

Shoot it.

In rendering assistance to what communities we can reach out to. In locking up bad ponies like you yourself are turning into.

Celestia’s sake, pony, DESTROY IT.

Our factories are run by raiders. Thieves, murderers, slavers, all drive our advancements in science and medicine.”

‘Get out of my head.’ ‘Your head?’  Voice, steadily getting louder. I could still hear Surprise talking, the voice in my head was getting distracting though...

“They help grow crops that feed the Enclave and what settlements we can reach out to. But the exchange wasn’t the end of the world. Nothing changed. The evil and corrupt survived while the innocent perished. That’s where you come in. I have plans that you are integral to. Or another Stable pony, if you fail.”

LUNA SCORN IT! SHE’S LEADING YOU ASTRAY!

“You are to begin with Ponyville. It has become a nest of slavers and raiders. Kill them all, so it will be able to be restored to its former glory. Transportation will be provided to get you close, we have held your raider friend, the ghoul, and the foal here.”

Don’t listen to her.

“Impressive. But I’m supposed to, what, listen to you after you threaten my friends? I have problems of my own to handle. Return to me what’s mine, and I guess you can wait ten years.”

Yes. Resist her. She’s evil incarnate.

I turned to leave, trying to ignore the voice thundering in my skull, but was held back by Surprise calling my name.

“You will be compensated. You will have the Enclave’s support. We can help you get into the Fluttershy Medical Center. A place with us. To walk with the ponies who -actually- want to restore Equestria.”

“You can do that? You can bring back Equestria?”

“Have you not been listening? The Enclave has ways to do such a thing- if you’ll help us with certain parts. Now go, make me the magics.”

I hate her.

I pursed my lips a little and nodded. I dressed in the elevator, and let out a breath as we were taken to the roof. A transport was waiting with two Enclave officers in uniform, there. I found Ditzy, Cutthroat, and Doc in the troop compartment. We exchanged brief stories to catch each other up (I left out the voice urging me to ignore the President). My brother and Ditzy had been taken while they were out investigating local foliage that could be used in lieu of Healer. Cutthroat had been the Enclave’s guest for five days- since I’d been shot. Nothing much else to report.

“Time for Ponyville, I guess...”

Magenta nodded and tapped on the door of the pilot’s compartment. I felt a sickening lurch as we rose and buzzed off to the southwest. The Vertibuck shuddered and there was a loud snap, Magenta cheerfully announcing we were now traveling at Dash and outrunning our own sound. It sounded foggy, like I was listening to her through cotton-stuffed ears... I didn’t realize anything was wrong until my head hit the floor and I knew nothing more.

        White. Everything was white. Oh.. Celestia- I was blind! I’d been blinded when my head hit the floor of the.. Wait.. This stuff I was laying on wasn’t metal. It was a cloud. That startled me more. I was a unicorn, I didn’t belong on the clouds! I rose, and realized I was taller than I had any right to be. An arrogant, self-confident voice rang out, and it struck me that I was the only one speaking, as I stared down at the ground far below. Green grass... Perfectly blue sky...

“So you ignored me. Surprise always wins in the end, I’m not surprised.”

“What? What’s going on. This is too much... Am I crazy? … They must be right, the chems must be rotting me.”

“Nope. You’re perfectly sane, far as I can tell. I’ve been silent for two hundred years... Finally somepony can hear me.” I felt a Dash inhaler press between my teeth, hardly knowing what I was doing as I fumbled it and pressed the button, feeling the familiar supercharge. “A powder made from a leaf grown in Grypha, mixed with liquid rainbow. It’s definitely not supposed to go into ponies, but it makes us faster, we need it. I authorized its use on conscripts that were going to die anyway when they carried the bombs. Fitting that I would die without the chem that’s named after me.” I dove off the cloud, cyan forehooves held out in front of me. It struck me that the wind was rushing over my wings, wings that I didn’t actually have. What the fuck was going on? A shimmering barrier collected in front of me. I leaned forward and pressed back against it, as it threatened to toss me back. It felt like... I would barely do this, but with the chem it was easy, effortless. A rushing sound filled my ears, and I realized I could still hear myself speaking.

“Who are you?”

“It should be obvious. I’m one of the mares that ended the world. I’m one of the ones responsible for the mess your world is in.” With a loud thundercrack of sound and a flash of rainbow light that quickly faded and turned a violent shade of red, I slammed through the barrier like it was paper. The laws of physics protested and were bitchslapped aside as I tore through the skies, barreling towards the ground like a magnetically-accelerated shell. My mind filled with calculations in the same thought-voice I’d been hearing, and I became aware of the fact that I was riding in the mind of a suicidal Dashed-out pegasus and that we were both going to die.

Twenty. Fifteen. Twelve. Ten. Eight. Five. Four. Two. Just as I braced for impact, the pegasus did the impossible again. She ripped upwards, soaring back upwards at a 45 degree angle from where we’d come down. My own mind tried to calculate how that was at all possible and failed the math. We soared at impossible speed, the mare outrunning her own grief, it seemed. “I am Air Force General Rainbow Dash. I gave my life in protecting the Enclave, the last bastion of true Equestria. I.. Turned traitor. Remember me.”

“I will.” We had landed, and she was staring into a puddle. I was struck by the duality of both our images together. We both looked like hell... “What do I do from here?”

“Just... Go to Ponyville. Do what Surprise wants. But don’t do it blindly. And my advice; you’ll regret the Dash.”

I woke up staring up at Doc, who was worriedly nudging me with a forehoof. I sat up and looked around. Judging by the lack of vibration, we’d stopped. “Where are we?”

Magenta looked over, cycling her beam gun thingy. “We’re here, we figured we’d wait till you were conscious. We were all worried.”

I smiled a little bit and nodded, shaking my head and beginning to leave the Vertibuck, which had apparently touched down in a clearing in the forest that Ponyville bordered.

“So we gonna go in there and kill em all dead?” Cutthroat licked the edge of her sword, that I’d pieced together from the bumper of a groundwagon almost a month ago.

Well... That was a plan. “Naw, seriously, I have a plan. Take off your eyepatch, and here’s what we’re gonna do...”

Okay. Say what you want, but Cut was good at the whole ‘planning’ thing. She’d pointed out that my tattoo and her notoriety would get us into Ponyville without getting shot. After that, it was up to me, the smart planny-pony, to figure shit out.

We had a ghoul pegasus who could field either a grenade launcher or beam pistol to great effect. Magenta had her crazy gatling beam weapon. Me with Air’s Hammer and the two .44s and the 10mm pistols. My brother and his weird syringe-gun, and his bonesaw. Cutthroat was basically a living weapon, and had her sword and knives on top of her own bulldozer form.

Against a whole town filled with ponies who had been killing ponies since birth. Obviously the way to go about this was -not- guns blazing. I needed to think about how to use everypony to their full potential.

        “I hate this idea. Why did you guys let me go through with this.” I grumbled. Or rather, a pony that looked rather like me grumbled. My fur had been dyed, and my cutie mark carefully covered over. Ditzy and Magenta’s armor and weapons were hidden nearby, they had simple rope nooses around their necks and bound wings.

        “It is a good plan. You will do well.” Magenta’s beautiful voice purred into one of my ears.

        I shook my head and lead our rag-tag group of ponies towards the town. I felt a sniper’s crosshairs on my forehead as I approached a pair of sentries- they wore the sort of clothing toughs the Wasteland over sported. Obviously slavers or low-level raiders.

        “Where do you think you’re goin, filly? An’ wid awll dis meat?”

        The unicorn of the pair snickered to himself as he watched us approach, with special attention to me. Obviously thinking something. I picked up his comrade’s sledgehammer in my magic. I was feeling the withdrawals and hating every moment of my life.

        The male had a second of the horror of having his horn shattered by the first blow. The second crumpled in his occipital ridge and cheekbone, tearing out his eye. He was already falling when the third strike landed and the weathered shaft of the hammer snapped along with his neck. I held the spike that the shaft had turned into as I breathed hard, the sharp tip wavering slightly as I turned to glare at his companion over my glasses. Was there something wrong with me, why I loved causing suffering, why I loved the rush of murder? How did a short month bring me to be a bloodthirsty monster? I continued to glare at the mud pony that had watched the brutal murder of a friend.

        “My name. Is Fourguns. I’m here to speak business with your boss.” I took a deep breath, really tapping into the balefire in my veins. I needed to be a slaver badass right now. “Now. You’s gonna bring me tah him, or I’m gonna hae to put on me angry hat. And trust me, it’s one ugly hat, dirt.”

        Something was wrong. Why weren’t they shooting? Beating the unicorn to death hadn’t been on the menu. I’d just given our far-sighted friend a rather decent reason that I wouldn’t really begrudge to air-condition my skull. I looked at Cutthroat, who was probably wondering the same thing, and she shrugged.

        “I’ll... I’ll take you.. J.. Just don’t kill me.. Keep that ghoul under control and there won’t be no trouble, aye?”

        I was a little embarrassed for him. He looked about ready to shit himself!

        He brought us to meet a zebra male in a pinstriped suit. The zebra smiled and held out a hoof to shake that I didn’t take. His voice annoyed me. “My name is Akashi. Welcome to my town.”

        I scowled and turned to look around with an appraising eye. Fourteen ponies within the circle EFS could scan. I had him, their leader, before me... But I wanted to do more recon before causing any more trouble. Maybe make the fight easier.

        “Cut to the chase, stripeass. I’m here for Paradise’s cut of your caps and any meat y’got to send their way.”

        Akashi’s expression leveled out as he looked at me, probably just seeing me for the first time. Or staring at the blood trickling from the tearduct of my left eye. He looked at my companions, back to me, and smiled. Cut had added the three dots to my slaver tattoo that would allow me to impersonate a lieutenant (As if the troubles caused by my ink wasn’t bad enough.) We’d capitalized on the fact that I looked like a filly with the dye, to try to make me look like a BAMF of a slaver brat with the disguise and a little acting on my part. (I’d dabbled before my CAT had said it was the grease pit for me!)

        “We’re honored to have such a young but decorated filly from Paradise’s ranks with us today. Perhaps you’ll stay with us the night to rest before returning?”

        I sniffed haughtily, and turned to my entourage. I knew from experience how to be a spoilt brat. “Very well. We will join you tonight. Cutthroat, fetch our things, I’d hate to see those mud ponies getting into them. Naturally, we will need decent accommodations if we will be staying with you the night.” I stressed ‘decent’ to make it sound like ‘five-star’ or something like.

        I noticed my brother hiding in the shadows of one of the buildings. He saw me watching and nodded, before slipping off again. Step one, complete. He’d thin their ranks as much as wasn’t suspicious. Cutthroat trotted off to retrieve the cart we’d laden down with my utility barding, Ditzy’s and Magenta’s armor and weapons. Akashi lead us to a building that had once been ornately fanciful. I wondered how a circular building had been constructed.

        I sighed and sat down as he left us in the main room- which had once been a storefront of some kind. “It’s clean, at least. Okay, so far, so good. When Cut comes back, you and Ditzy armor up. And...”

I watched as a little gray mare trotted up to a chest I hadn’t noticed earlier, but couldn’t help but see now. I noticed the appalling decor that I really hadn’t thought much of when we’d first entered. The place had been torn apart, and the words scrawled on the walls had a ghostly quality, but some seemed more substantial. It stank of blood and worse. The whole thing had the quality of looking -past- something right in front of your nose, the two images that showed up when you did such. She was better at lockpicking than I, it took two of her bobby pins, before she’d opened the chest. Inside was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen!  Such lines, such folds of fabric, and the colors -- elegant and regal -- yet the fabric was light, breezy and did not sag!  It was a dream!  Sadly, a dream for another, taller pony. She seemed to think the same as I did, although I wondered where my sudden taste in fancy clothing had come from...

Joy and disappointment mixed in equal measure.  I realized she couldn’t wear it, and neither could I, without some extensive hacking. I watched her fold up the cheery thing, and I thought I saw a thoughtful look on her face as she stowed it in her saddlebags, the room snapping to normal. She was gone, along with the dress, but the chest remained.

        I stared at the walls. tratorus bich and the like stared down at me from the walls. Well that wasn’t very nice.

        “What in the Sorrel Hells was that all about?”

        I head Magenta’s worried voice and saw the worried expression on Ditzy’s face. “Are you okay, Spanner? You’ve just been standing there staring off into space.”

        I smiled shakily and nodded. “Yeah. Only thinking a little bit. Wanna see what’s in that chest for me? You’re good at that whole lockey-pickey thing.” Either they hadn’t seen what had just happened, or I’d hallucinated. Chalk it up to my list of problems. “After that, look out the upstairs windows. Should be a good vantage point to see most of that street. Me and Cut will draw them to that square. Fish in a barrel.”

        Ditzy looked thoughtful for a moment, and scribbled on a pad of notepaper she’d found, her own mislaid temporarily. It had probably been once used to fill out measurements or something tailory-seamstressy like that.

        I must admit I liked her idea better.

        Doc, Ditzy, and Magenta got things ready as night began to fall, me and Cutthroat making nice with the slavers. They wanted to show us their operation, being under the impression that I was gonna bring all this back to Paradise instead of off them that night. Akashi shot anypony that didn’t quite live up to my expectations of what a slaver or raider should be, I’d convinced him that he was better off without them. I also learned that Akashi was terrible with his zebra-made 10mm pistol.

        Later on... “Slavers and Raiders of Ponyville, we thank you for the hospitality you have shown us agents of Paradise. We invite you to dine with us this fine evening, on such delicacies as can be found in the heart of the Reich itself.”

        I both loved and hated this part. So much waste. Flashy, but sloppy. The death of the ponies, too. Akashi and five of his top ponies (as evaluated by myself and Cutthroat) had been invited to sit down to a meal laid out on a long table in the town’s square. “We thank you.”

        They began to eat, and I turned away. I took a deep breath and dropped to my stomach, putting my hooves over my ears and bracing myself. Ditzy pushed her button, and there was a loud crack as the plastic explosives they’d all spent the day cooking up went off. The six bars that had been behind me on EFS went out as they were blown to Everafter.

        The couple other white bars I saw milling about turned red as the hoofful of raiders and slavers that were milling about the town realized something wasn’t right and came at us. Moment of truth...

        I focused as I opened my coat. The two ten millimeter pistols lifted out, the lasers kicking on and putting little dots on the chests of two earth ponies toting shotguns. We fired at the same time.

        I managed to hang onto the guns I was holding in my magic as a slug slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me, and shot peppered my chest, face, and forelegs. Two holes appeared in the bardings of the other two, one dropped, the other reloaded his shotgun. I wiped blood from my face and tried to focus enough to draw the two revolvers. They shook a little, but I managed. I could feel a couple ribs cracked or broken with each breath. I grinned and pushed all four triggers at once as “Shotgun”’s eyes widened, his own gun going off. Buckshot peppered me again, luckily enough it wasn’t high-gauge enough and the pony was too far away for it to take off my face, he wasn’t so lucky. He dropped with at least another hole put in him.

        I took a deep breath and steadied my guns, taking stock of my surroundings. I heard the crump of Ditzy’s grenade launcher, the weird sound of Magenta’s beam rifles sweeping the area. And then I was shot again. Of course I was shot again. All I’d been doing for the last couple days was catch bullets.

        I coughed and spat up blood as I shakily attempted to get back up onto my hooves and felt myself unable to do it. A cold emptyness filled my gut, and I knew instinctively that the bullet had ripped through my armor. I could smell my own blood and things better left inside spilled across the cobbles. I managed to get up onto my hooves through sheer dint of will, my breathing difficult. Was I dying? Was I already dead? Was somepony coming to collect me along to Everafter? No.. No Everafter for me, I was headed straight for Hell...

        I coughed as another shot slammed into the cobbles at my hooves (don’t think about the stains) along with a sound like the Stable door slamming shut. Like Celestia stomping her forehooves. Like.. A damn big noise, fuck you I’m dying, I can afford to be vague. The sniper from earlier.

        I dropped the pistols and fell onto my back, bringing the rifle up and slipping into SATS as I looked through the scope.

        There was a slowed-down second of us staring at one another, me and the unicorn with the sniper rifle. I had a chunk tore out of me, I could feel it, but I knew now that I might live to see later on. I wondered who she was, if we could have laughed together over a bottle of Stalliongrad’s Finest. SATS helped me as I pulled the trigger and put a bullet in her skull.

        “What are you up to, Spanner? How many more you going to send?”

        I stared at a mare. Unicorn. Purple-gray coat. Yellow mane. Yellow eyes. (Almost like Ditzy, come to think of it.) Odd fatigues I’d never seen before. I could see Air’s Hammer strapped to her foreleg. She had a holotag on her chest, that read “CPL S. SPADE”.

        “Okay. Now I know I’m either dead or hallucinating.” I picked up my guns and holstered them, ignoring the odd way one of my forelegs bent and the cold feeling of a rather large chunk being torn out of my side, one of my kidneys was probably soup by now. (It’s okay, you only needed one of those... right?) I tried not to notice the blood trickling down my torn face and throat, the odd feeling of my broken ribs shifting with each breath. My glasses had been all but obliterated by the shot, I was glad they’d saved my eyes and surprised that they’d lasted this long.

        “She hurt you bad. But that’s not why you take lives with such relish. Nor is it an excuse to continue being the bloodthirsty little shit you are.”

        I shook my head and took two steps before collapsing from my strained foreleg giving and the broken one simply being unable to hold me up. “Just following the example you set, Sapper.”

        “I was one of the few ponies trying to stop the war. Fighting for peace.. Yeah, just like fucking for virginity.” She laughed and shook her head, I finally noticed the fact she only had one eye, and her face was fucked up. Was she becoming more solid, or was that just my perception of things going fuzzy? “You’re nothing like me. Just a scared, hurt filly hiding behind a gun and a bloodstained reputation while trying to make yourself the mare that hurt you. My advice, Spanner, if you stand for nothing you’ll fall for anything. Look through Ponyville a bit before calling in the Enclave.”

        I woke to my brother staring at me. My barding was pulled off, my coat was laying on the ground, and there were three empty Med-ex and a couple empty Healers sitting on the bench next to me. “Try not to move too much. I’m still pulling buckshot out of your face. Luckily your forelegs healed up fine with the Healers, and the damage to your lower back didn’t take too much work.” I held still while he plucked lead from my face with forceps.

        “Last I knew, I was chewing cobbles. How’d I get inside?”

        “I poun’ you, Cus’roat carriet you. Unconscious. Library, closest building. Magenta’s downstairs, pickin’ locks an’ lettin’ out slaves, Ditzy’s readin’ a book, Cus’roat’s off some’res.”

        I nodded, and recieved a hoof to the side of the head before holding still again. “Awright, awright, hurry up, ain’t got all night.. We should pick the place over a bit before calling in the Enclave an tellin them that we did their dirty work.”

        I closed my eyes and dialed in TruFax’ signal while waiting for Doc to be finished pulling the lead from my face and sewing me up. I was rewarded with white noise. “The fuck?”

        “TruFax has been down... About a month. Maybe two. Get out past 95, and you can’t pick it up na’more.” Huh... Not good. “We have more pressing matters, though. Your seizures. Addiction. The bullets in your brain. If we go to Bayston at all, it’ll be straight to the medical center to get you at least operational-like again.”

        Well shit. Ponies needed to hear Stereo Beat. If she could help me maintain my sanity through... That... Then.. Who else could be helped? I sighed and made a face at the odd feel of the forceps removing pellets from my flesh. I turned on Z-Core instead because I was fucked if I was going to sit there doing nothing. A deep-voiced, reassuring voice issued from the speaker on my Pipbuck.

        “For those of you just joining our program, this is Z-Core Radio with your host Zakhem. Now from music to somepony who will speak; it’s Sweetie Belle’s time of week.”

        And then a mare spoke up. A voice I’d heard in songs. Clear. Unravaged by ghoulification or time. “Thank you, Zachem. My darling Equestria, it’s time for us to have a chat.

        I must speak with you of some troubling matters. I know it’s not your fault, it never was. I am of course referring to that great national problem of our foals today. It is for them that more than half of our once-great nation scavenges and scrabbles like rats. Our own spokespony with the Enclave has told us that they whole-heartedly have devoted themselves to this problem, taking in what foals they can and making sure the travesty that the Crusaders became- once a great youth-group- have a better life than they would have had otherwise through trading.

        They run orphanages to raise and eventually adopt out foals that would otherwise have become feral.

So the next time you hear somepony trying to paint the Enclave as evil, ask him what he’s done for Equestria. Ask him why he supports the Reich, or the Order, who only care for fighting amongst themselves and hoarding technology. Or even worse, if he speaks only for himself. For you see, both the Reich and Order are today common criminals with access to some.. Antiquated technology. And the pony that walks alone is even worse- he has no morals and will kill you for the gun you hold or the food in your bag. The Enclave still has but two goals; stop the war, and save Equestria, both by any means necessary.

Now onto a lighter topic.

Let me tell you the story of Fluttershy the Stare Master, my darling Equestra...”

And so she told us all about a slumber party at a shy pegasus’ cottage during her fillyhood, and a run-in with a cockatrice. She and my brother finished about the same time.

“I must leave you now, but I do so with a happy heart and confidence in my dear friend Zachem. Remember, Equestria prevails.”

“Thank you, and goodbye Miss Sweetie. Truly your words shall ring most truthfully. And now for some music, I think. This hour sponsored by Crater’s ‘The Kitchen Sink’.

“If you're blue and you don't know, where to go to why don't you go where fashion sits.

Puttin' on the Ritz.

Different types who wear a day, coat pants with stripes and cutaway, coat perfect fits.

Puttin' on the Ritz.

Dressed up like a million-dollar trooper Tryin' hard to look like Hoity Toity (super duper)

Come let's mix where high-rollers walk with sticks or um-ber-ellas in their mitts...

Puttin’ on the Ritz.”

The song continued on in that general vein, but I just sat and blinked, utterly blown away by this. It was one thing to have heard she’d survived the war. It was another to hear her sweet voice drip venom from my very own Pip Boy. Interesting, certainly interesting. I sat up and began slipping back into my armor, which was getting pretty beaten up by this point. “So what do I owe yah?”

Doc didn’t seem amused by my little joke. “Spanner... how many deaths are you responsible for? And I don’t mean where you consciously pulled the trigger, I mean total.”

I thought. Complicated question with a simple answer. “Fifteen today. Three yesterday. However many I killed when I don’t remember what I was doing. Nine the day before. I’m missing a couple days recovering from getting shot. If I managed to give up the location of Stable 105 to the Order before taking two to the face, another thousand. About four weeks being a medic with Cutthroat’s outfit, I probably killed about fifteen on my own during that.” I paused in reloading my guns while thinking. “Should I include ponies killed by ponies I’ve saved? How much blood do you want me to own up to, Happy?” I lit another cigarette. “Why do you ask?”

He stared at me, aghast. “Doesn’t that bother you? To have caused so much death...” He shook his head and cleaned his tools, glancing every now and again like I was something that he’d watched crawl out from under a rock and into his food, or he could see the blood that drenched me. “How many do you regret?”

I racked a fresh magazine into one of the 10mm pistols, checked the laser, and holstered it inside my coat before blowing out a cloud of smoke thoughtfully. “None of them. I feel no remorse, just disappointment that I had to. Kill, I mean. And what other ponies do to other ponies is their own business, why should I feel bad for what they do? Why should I feel bad for killing a pony with a hundred notches on his gun?”

“You’ve been hanging out with Cutthroat too long. She’s fucked you up something fierce.”

If only I could blame her. She’d only taught me new and interesting methods. “More than you know, little brother. More than you could possibly know.”

I looked around the room we were sitting in. Books and antiques lined shelves cut into the walls. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be decorated in raider chic. There was a unicorn laying on her side on the bed, her face swaddled in bandages and her body wrapped in the blankets. I was struck by a splatter of blood that I noticed on the ceiling, and a balcony bearing a huge rifle on a bipod. “You saved the sniper that nearly offed me?”

He shook his head. “Spanner. Wholesale slaughter will not help ponies. Won’t help Equestria. You, me, everyone is in the mess we’re in because of that kind of thinking. She shot you because you blew up her boss and killed her friends. And you did that because somepony told you to. Because they’d done something to tick off somepony bad enough to send you. See the cycle? It never ends if you keep killing ponies.”

“I could have sworn I killed her. I shot her in the head.”

“You very nearly did.” He pushed up his goggles. I was struck by the loss of my glasses, everything was a little less defined than normal. And made even muddier by my lack of mints. “Hit her in the jaw. Narrowly avoided fatally wounding her, ripped part of her face off. She’ll look ugly, but she’ll live with the chems and healing supplies I used.”

I shook my head and let out a snort of disgust as I turned to the door. “You get to figure out what to do with her, then. President Surprise wanted Ponyville to be a graveyard.” I left him with his patient, watching Magenta pick locks to release the dirty, pitiful ponies cowering in the cages downstairs for a moment or two. I grumbled just a little bit as I lit another cigarette. “Celestia’s sloppy cunt but you’re all a bunch of fuckin bleedin’ hearts. Wonder y’all lived this long.”

I grumbled to myself pretty steadily as I continued out the library, back towards the shop we’d prepared for the battle in. I stared at the chest I’d watched that ghostly mare open, frowning a little as I noticed a bobby pin lying nearby. A knife would have to serve for a screwdriver. It took me nearly ten terse minutes, but I finally got the single pin to snap up and the tumbler to turn. The lid popped up and revealed that breathtaking dress, and I grinned to myself as I tucked it into my saddlebags. I turned to see Cutthroat watching me carefully. I hadn’t even noticed her, which was quite a feat as she’d wrecked the place. There was a splintered ponykin to show she’d smashed it against things in a rage, other evidence that she’d been at it for a while. She was muttering, her red eyes looking at something. (As far as I could tell. She could be like Ditzy for all I knew, without any pupil or sclera to tell from)

I swallowed and slowly approached her, ears tucked flat. “Cutthroat? What’s the matter? What are you looking for?”

Her jaw worked a moment, and I saw my least-favorite expression. She suddenly chuckled, a harsh grating sound behind it as usual. “There’s a bunker, here... It has things I’d like to remember in it.”

I did not like her look, nor her body language- they both pointed to me getting pointed one way or another. I had to defuse the situation. “A bunker... Like a fallout shelter? Wouldn’t that be in the basement? Maybe the door is hidden.”

She blinked like this hadn’t occurred to her. (It probably hadn’t.) She trotted off, and I stared as I watched another unicorn. White, purple mane. She and the younger filly with her had the same ethereal quality as the unicorn I’d watched earlier. I was a little afraid of them and what they meant for my mental state.

Was I seizing again? Was some vibration of the bullets in my skull causing hallucinations? “Now, Sweetie, remember. When you hear the sirens you must make it downstairs as quick as you can.”

“Yes, sis...” The filly didn’t seem interested very much in this drill. I followed them into the basement, the older mare pressed a button on the wall and they disappeared through the floor. I tapped the button myself, and a hidden hatchway snapped open on a stairway, that ended on a small landing and a strangely shaped door.

“Now the scanner only knows me right now, but we’ll have you programmed in.” She laid her hoof on a square in the center of the door, and they both walked through it.

“And my friends?”

“Yes, your friends as well. But nopony else.”

I blinked. Why build a fallout shelter only a hoofful of ponies could use? To satisfy my burning curiosity (it could have been my healing hip) I laid my hoof on the square, and was startled when the wheel it was set in spun and the door dropped into the floor and rose into the ceiling. A Stable bulkhead?

“Think I found it, Cutthroat!” I shouted up to her as I slowly walked into the space beyond. I was confronted immediately by a hulk of metal in the shape of a pony. I think I screamed as I backpedaled into the forelegs of Cutthroat, standing there as still as the statue that had scared me, staring....

She picked me up and nudged her nose against mine before putting me down and trotting forward. … Did she just.. console me? Who the fuck was this and what had she done with the sadistic raider bitch I knew?

“It’s my armor. It really is. It’s still here, after all these years... When the Reich, the real Reich, died with Equestria, I ditched it here. No reason to wear it if the nation I swore to defend was burned... I guess I should pick it up. Another symbol, another flag to carry, colors to wear.” She was muttering, I don’t think she was quite aware of things anymore.

She closed her eyes and her horn lit up as she began to work a spell. The armor came apart, and she began humming a song to herself as the pieces settled on croup, dock, haunch, shoulders, hips. She smiled and then the visor of the helmet lit up red. The armor had a frightening air to it, protecting what little of her could be damaged at all in a thick casing of pneumatically powered steel.

“I suppose I should go the rest of the way. Look around a bit, you should find the cases holding my wings and the crates my guns were stored in.” It was a little strange to hear her voice amplified slightly, the mechanical tone that had forever been in the background showing up more clearly now, to see her in this armor that made her seem bigger and more imposing than ever before. Jet black, edged in white that matched the streaks of her mane and tail, designed to be frightening. “Modular. I can mount all kinds of shit to it, everything from laser cannons to artillery pieces. I was wearing anti-armor pieces when the bombs dropped.”

She lifted what I had thought to be a crate but what turned out to be an ammunition well onto her shoulders, the armor’s equipping spell snapping it into place. I hoofed open a weapons case, and stared at the biggest guns I’d ever seen. Both barrels were the size of my hoof, and longer than I was. I pulled out the barrel assembly with magic and set it aside, straining to lift the actual mounting. Cutthroat effortlessly lifted both and put it together, snapping it into place on her left side, the other attaching to her right side, the feed belts clipping onto the massive weapons, the mare stamping at the metal crates and rendering them to scrap, lifting them into the well on her shoulders.

“The fuck is that?”

“They’re mass drivers. Kicks a slug to near the speed of light and spits it out. Chews up bits of metal and compresses them inside a magic field into ammo. Fuckin’ sweet.”

“Sounds it.” Well there was someone else I didn’t have to resupply with ammo. I shook my head and looked around. There was quite a haul to be taken out of here. Piles of Rad-B-Gon, chems, medical supplies, a couple guns, ammo. Radiation suits of all sizes. I left Cutthroat looking for her wings while I went to look around a little. A low counter hid a mattress on the floor from the entrance- a skeleton in rags of clothing clutched a rifle trained on that door. A small object rested in the ribcage. A white statuette with a purple mane.

“What the Sorrel Hells?”

I lifted it with my magic and felt something change within me. The tumult I’d been feeling quieted, my mind stopped spinning... Besides that there was something else. Something big. I tilted my head and stared at the mare for a moment or two. I read the words inscribed on the base.

‘Be Unwavering.’

I blinked as I looked up at the ceiling. Be unwavering? The fuck was that supposed to mean?

‘It means you must stand strong in the face of adversity. Stick to your ideals, no matter what anyponysays.’

Great. Blackouts, seizures, and more voices. I really must be fucked in the head by the bullets in my brain. I put away the figurine and turned to look up at Cutthroat. “Find your wings?”

She flared them for my approval. They added... something to her. She looked like she had knives for feathers, the upper bones sturdy and bladed. She’d probably never fly with them, but they lent her a stately air. “Those are... Uh... Impressive.” I looked away and coughed a bit, before trotting towards the stairwell. “Get everything that’s down here. I’m going to go pick the rest of these buildings.” Why did I feel so bossy all the sudden? And why was she listening to me?

I stepped out of the boutique with my question unanswered, lighting a cigarette and blowing a thoughtful cloud of smoke into the cool night air. Today had held a lot of ‘surprises’ and newness. I felt shooken up again, not sure how I felt... But I felt like a rock in a maelstrom. I was unwavering, as everything rotated around me.

“Spanner... Can vhe talk?”

I looked to see the (really kinda creepy) skull mask enameled on the faceplate of Magenta’s helmet. She’d been sitting on the awning over the doorway, waiting for me. I smiled and nodded as she hopped down next to me. “Yeah, sure, what about?”

“She’s going to use you. Everypony, is going to try to use you. You’re a Stable pony, you have a huge rep for coming out of nowhere and changing everything. I love the Enclave... But don’t let President Surprise talk you into anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.”

I just stared at her for a minute. “You get shot in the head again, ‘genta? You’re talking to the pony what’s got the broken moral compass. You know, it only points out large amounts of chems and caps, ain’t never read moral north.”

She shook her head again and looked back to the sky. The sun was rising, turning the sky a bloody red, fitting for the work we’d done in the night. “You never know. Your moral compass could get fixed. She could ask you to do something even you can’t bring yourself to do. You’re not Cutthroat, Spanner. Don’t try to be. She’s had two hundred years of practice as a psychotic bitch. My advice? Use the LT as a sounding board. She’s a good mare.”

I leaned up and thumped my forehead against her armored nose. “No sweat. I ain’t gonna do nothin without runnin it past Bright Eyes. Good?”

I imagine she smiled, and looked up at the bleeding sky for a minute. “Do you know why my mother named me what she did?”

Magenta Sky... I had no clue. “No. Why?”

“At night, when the sun is setting... If sky is red, the next day will be pleasant and clear.”

I shook my head and looked down at the ground as I leaned against the pegasus. “You Wasteland ponies are all weird. I’m named after a fucking tool, and your name gave you a name like Magenta Sky; an enjoyable tomorrow. Wonderful.”

I grumbled and stood up, shaking my head a little as Cutthroat stepped out of the boutique with bulging saddlebags. I took a moment to climb up onto her back and strike a pose before she started off towards the bakery.

“Be unwavering, Spanner.” I muttered as I hopped down, jerking my head towards the room, the walls painted with cheerful murals. “Toss the place. I’m going to check for a bunker or a fallout shelter.” I headed downstairs as Cutthroat began her search, aided by Magenta.

I was stymied by another door in the basement that was like the one in the boutique, only this one was edged with pink and bore three balloons in the center. And it didn’t open for my hoof. I sat and glared at the hunk of metal - Who knew what riches lived behind a locked door? There could be all kinds of jewels...

I stuck out my tongue and drew one of my tel millimeter pistols, grinning as the laser played over the black hoof scanner. I pulled the trigger, and yelped when the bullet ricocheted off the door. I hit the floor and drew the other, pulling the twin .44s with a bit of effor. I emptied the two ten millimeters, 31 bullets, and the two revolvers- twelve .44 slugs. And still, the door stood closed. Pockmarks stippled the surface, bullets had embedded in the walls floor and ceiling. I felt myself bleeding, my chestplate having stopped a bullet or two. I sat back and opened a bottle of whiskey as I thought of how to open the door... stupid shooting not working..

“The fuck?”

I blinked and blushed as I tossed aside the empty bottle, offering a sip of a second to Magenta, who accepted it. “I saw a ‘roach.”

She rolled her eyes and passed the vodka back to me. Her helmet rested on the floor between her forehooves. “Yeah right... Trying to shoot through this door? Won’t help- SafeLock... but I’ve never seen one like this... Probably could take an antitank round and stand. You’ll destroy the bakery before you open that door without authorization.”

“... That’s a possibility.” I passed the bottle back, shaking my head. “No idea what possessed me to shoot it forty eight times. Maybe...”

Three hours later we were out of the booze, ideas, booze, and stuff to try the door with. But mostly booze. The bottom of the stairwell was filled with broken glass from thrown bottles, the twisted remains of the rebar spear (I’d tried to jimmy the wheellock with it) tools I’d used to try and pull it apart (I’d successfully taken off the cover of the scanner to reveal frustratingly durable guts) bent police batons, a shattered sledgehammer that had been tracked down by a drunken, tottering Magenta. And now I had leads attached to a conduit ripped out of the wall, trying to electrically overload the lock (Without success).

Magenta stared at the empty bottle in her hooves before watching me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Spanner.”

I Grumbled. “Forget you! I will.. will put a for-fork in the toaster... in the bathtub!” What? I took the bottle from her and went to take a sip. Of course, it was empty, so I tossed it at the FUCKING DOOR and giggled when it shattered. I stuck my tongue out as I touched the ends of the wire to the exposed electrical parts of the lock.

There was a spark, the lights turned off and came back on, and I was tossed backwards. I smelled a faint tang of burnt flesh and hair, and saw the door obstinately standing there closed. Locked. Mocking me. I growled and cursed, struggling to get up to attack it with my hooves! “You have offended my honor, and I demand satisfaction!”

Magenta touched my cheek with a cold, smooth, calming, armored hoof. “Hush... Let’s go find something else to do, you’ll think of something.”

Maybe it was the booze, or that purr of an accent... But her words lit a small fire in my tummy and I sighed. “We need more booze.” I tossed my pack onto the floor as I lit my last cigarette, adding the empty box to the trash accumulated there. I blinked as Magenta’s lips were pressed against my throat. “What’re you doing...?”

“Relax... I want to help you calm down..”

Oh. Well then. “Uh... Is that such a good idea? I mean.. stairs, glass...”

“Oh. Maybe not so comfortable.”

We made it upstairs, I know that much. I don’t remember any of the interval (I forget the worst things...) I don’t know what a bathtub was doing in a bedroom, though. Sun was high when I woke up wearing just my hat, Magenta’s chin on my belly. I went to put my forelegs around her and found myself unable to move them muc. Hoofcuffs, the chain on the other side of the pipe that ended with the showerhead. Why?

Magenta stirred, and I stared at the dyed mare. I smiled and strained to kiss her nose, her muzzle was damp with... Oh.. what’s why I felt warm and content...

She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly. She looked around, then back at me. Then to a cabinet, back to me. Showerhead, me.

I laughed. “Oh yeah, that’s happening.. I barely remember being clean anymore..”

She giggled and flicked her wings as she leaned forward and bit the knob, giving it a few turns. There had to be a good water talisman down there behind Door #2, rusty hot water that cleared after a moment cascaded into the tub. The cabinet held bubble bath that she added to the steamy water. It troubled me that I was still cuffed- what if I drowned?- but she found a sponge and began cleaning a month or so worth of assorted grime from my fur. I just relaxed and floated. Which quickly devolved into giggles and splashing. Hey- I’m ticklish, fuck off.

Our fun was disturbed by a tapping at the door and a small yellow-maned head poking in. “What’re yo- hey!” His question was cut off as I grabbed him up in my magic and pulled him closer, pulling off his rather grubby and bloodstained medic uniform. He’d been hard at work with his tools earlier and needed a bath! He struggled and squealed as I dropped him in the sudsy water and wrapped my hind legs around him to hold him as Magenta took the not-so-subtle hint and began scrubbing him.

When we were finished screwing around, I smiled and watched my brother for a moment. He didn’t look at all happy with me. We were all wrapped in towels we’d found after the bath. I grinned and dug through my saddlebags, holding out the medic radiation suit.

“Here, I don’t need it, and it’ll give your medicine skills a boost. Ditzy said once it has medical subroutines.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, ire smoothed by the gift. He watched me as he tugged the zipper open and slipped into it. There was a hiss as it sealed and filled with purified air from a talisman on the hip, a cheerful filly’s voice speaking. “Hi! I’m Puppy.SML, congratulations on receiving your SOLARIS Industries Radiation Suit Mark Six Medical Subtype! Why don’t we get your silly user settings out of the way?” He smiled and laughed to himself as he began chatting with the AI of the suit as he walked away, listening to all the things the suit was capable of.

“Magenta?”

“Spanner, I..”

I shut her up with a hoof before leaning up to kiss her. “I’ll go speak with the President alone. Call the Vertibuck crew, I’ll return with our marching orders later today. Then, I was struck with an IDEEEA! “Ditzy!”

I ran downstairs into the bakery and smiled at the mare who blinked at me from the rafters. “Needja help wit summat.”

I explained what I needed, she refused. I pleaded with her, she relented. Ten minutes later we were placing shaped charges on that FAHKING door downstairs. There was a sudden sharp crump as the wall blew out, cutting around the stupid slab and making it release into the floor and revealing the room beyond. Spanner Wrench, is best pony.

“You’re supposed to be dead. I watched two go in you.”

I blinked and stared at a griffon heavily chained and weighed down. The only light in the space was directly over her, winked off the golden eye medallion hanging from her neck, showing the bruises and lacerations dappling her muscular form. I blinked.

I remembered that face. The last time I’d seen that beak, it’d been curved in a cruel grin, the griffon standing over me with a gun to my forehead.

“I got better. One of your goons you sent arfter me wa’n’t so lucky. Shoulda heard him scream...” I chuckled and leaned against the jamb. “What a bitch... You know, I swore I’d pay you back in kind for the two in my skull.”

“Surprise took out the contract. We thought it was the beginning of a coalition, she’d been leaning towards the Reich before that, and the ordered slaughter of a Stable Pony surprised us... I was a mere instrument, same as the gun you were shot with.”

She fell silent and shifted with a clink of chain before sitting again. “Somehow, she knew it hadn’t taken. She sent bounty hunters after you, got this slaver gang after me.”

I shook my head and lifted the sledgehammer I noticed in the corner, preparing to beat her beak in. “Your story don’t wash. Unicorn that’s maybe still alive told me his group of hunters were told by a General Gilda Stormstrider that my severed head was worth a pretty bit.” I hefted the sledgehammer. “I’m going to enjoy this...”

I started to swing, and then everything stopped like I’d engaged SATS. I saw her again- Sapper. “Great. The fuck is this now?”

“Don’t.” She reached out nudged the stopped sledgehammer. “I’ve watched you just -act- for a while now. Think first this time.”

I let it fall. “Say your piece and be quick with it.”

“Think. Look at her tags. What rank is she?”

I blinked and leaned in to look. “She’s a... Major, I think. Insignia’s strange to me, but it seems like major..”

“She’s not the one you’re after. If ‘General’ Gilda sent her to kill you, she’s no different than you coming to slaughter this town. Use her to get to the General, and then you may have your revenge. I advise against it- wholesale slaughter for its own sake will not save the Equestria, and an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind..”

I grumbled and tapped my hoof against the floor, sitting back. “I.. Guess you’re right. This time.” She shook her head and vanished, leaving the world to restart. I scowled at the griffon watching my unblinkingly. Be Charitable. Great. I thought I was supposed to be Unwavering? “Change of plans. You live to see me kill the general who wants my head.”

“Uh.” She twitched enough to rattle the heavy-gauge chain holding her to the floor. I grinned and waved a hoof.

“No trouble. We’ll get you up. MAGENTA!”

A few moments and she stuck her head through the doorway, followed by the rest of her. “Vhat is- oh..”

I pointed. “Our new friend here is bolted to the floor. Unbolt her, get everyone to toss this place. Did you call the Vertibuck?”

She stepped past me and inspected the chains holding down the griffon. “Zyeh. They are in the square waiting for you.” I nodded and placed a small kiss over her eye. I loved the colors she turned. I trotted through the blasted doorway and out of the bakery itself, hopping into the open bay of the air vehicle waiting outside, making a rotor motion with one hoof to the pilots. I nearly lost my lunch in liftoff.

Time for a true crime.

Footnote: Level Up.

Perk Added: Desperado- Should we call you ‘Twoguns?’ you’re capable of wielding two Small Guns without an accuracy reduction, each consecutive firearm after reduces by %25.

Guns + 25.

Companion perk added: Doctor Wasteland, M.D. - Between the two of you the Medicine skill is extensive and respectable. Maybe reflected in your dealings with ponies.

Waiting

We didn’t return to Stalliongrad. Instead, my EFS told me we were in the vicinity of Fillydelphia- a fair piece down south- when we landed. I was alone. Hadn’t even thought to armor up or grab a gun along with me. When did I get so stupid?

I saw her again. Just for a second the ghostly gray unicorn trotted along the street. She looked alone and basically helpless as well. I felt a little better about my situation. Then... She was gone. I stepped down from the rear hatch of the vehicle, the light sulfur yellow through the thick smog cloud that blanketed the city. A male pegasus met me halfway, giving me a hoof that I really didn’t need or want in getting down.

“The Cloverleaf Society has a few ponies here. Mainly under Enclave control... which means exactly one block is safe and the rest... you don’t want to be even during the daytime. Lotta raw steel laying around unmilled, lot of rubble we can chop up and melt down. We share this place with some crazy that wants to rebuild it..”

“Interesting. I’ve heard all this kind of work is done by convicts?”

The male nodded, looking away as he lead me down a brightly-lit street. “Order or the Reich would probably have just killed them outright or something.” I noticed one of his hind legs worked different and shone a little in the lamplight. Enamel paint? “If we can round them up, we put them to work, and whatever it don’t cost us to keep of ‘em of their wages goes to their restitution. Couple enlist when their stay is done.”

I thought for a moment, something bubbling up in my packrat mind. “Ain’t that generally how it was before the bombs?” I had to shout, an Earth pony in a biohazard jumpsuit with ‘Fillydelphia Medium Security Prison’ emblazoned on the back along with the eponymous Enclave insignia was using a large saw to cut up a groundwagon’s frame and the noise was tremendous. Did these guys brand everything with their little logo?

“I forgot you were a Stable pony. Most waster’s ain’t even vurried about tomorrow, let alone zhe past. Zhat’s about it, zyeh. Or at least zhat’s vhat President Surprise says, vhich is zhe same thing.”

I nodded as he lead me past a statue of a severe unicorn surrounded by three foals. She was made of the same impervious black stone as the Rainbow Dash statue in Stalliongrad, the foals were a different stone and hadn’t weathered well. I stopped and squinted up at her for a minute, thinking I recognized her even without my glasses. That expression, that posture, that straight-cut mane... It took me someplace in my head..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o0o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now, Class, can you tell me who this is?”

You know those nightmares when you find yourself in class and your father’s dead and your mother is abusive and distant, and on top of all this your teacher is an Earth pony who isn’t shy with a ruler and thinks you’re only just qualified for the worst job in Maintenance- waste disposal? This wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Miss Strictly’s class about a year after my father had left Stable 105, a couple years before my date with the male that ran the medical clinic in my father’s absence, and ten years before everything coming up Spanner in the Lottery...

A unicorn filly had her hoof raised for Strictly to call on her. The brightest in our class, the most adept at magic, and the daughter of the Overstallion. We’d been nearly inseparable since my dad had delivered both of us over the course of one long night, and were best friends now even though one day that would have to end. “Yes, Silk Spun.”

“I ken ‘er, tha’s Twilight Spahkle. Her pitcher’s on mah wall. Daddy says she single-hoofedly esta.. started Stable-Tek and that without her, we would all have tae live on thur Surface!”

Another Earth pony a year or two from his date with a falling pipe that would split open his skull and kill him (oops), spoke up. His mother drank profusely and he dealt with it by being a peerless dick. “Nuh uh! Nopony can live on the surface cos it got all blow’d up!”

Silk Spun stuck her tongue out at him and sneered. “You can so! My daddy says that when Spannah’s daddy comes back he’ll tell us all about the popcorn that grows from the ground, the cotton candy clouds, and rains of chocolate milk! And we’ll be able to live out on the surface with the sun and the moon and everything!”

I looked down at my desk. This had happened before, it would happen again, and it would be the last straw (pipe) that broke the camel’s back (the foal’s neck). I just wanted Strictly to continue with the lesson and not give the colt a chance to respond. But of course, she hated me, and wanted to watch me squirm.

“Spanner’s daddy is dead, cos nopony can live on the surface an he got kicked out for marryin’ a Maintenance pony.”

I don’t remember what I did next. I remember my bedroom, and a blurred flight from the classroom before anypony saw me crying and made fun of me for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o0o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I found myself still staring at the statue of Twilight Sparkle, the building beyond still bearing the sign of.. ‘Twilight Sparkle’s Fillies’ over the entrance. “Miss? You okay?” The pegasus was staring at me, a look of... Concern? on his muzzle.

“Yeah. Went to the moon for a bit. What’s this place?” Finally... Something I’d been searching for all my life. I felt like I would cry. Stairs I didn’t have to hop up! He turned to lead again as we started up towards the doors. I noticed there was something of a temperature difference near the statue...

“Twilight Sparkle’s Home For Fillies. It was an orphanage before Fillydee was hit- this we’ve learned from records preserved inside and elsewhere. The Enclave holds the most complete records of Before of anypony in the Wasteland, completely unbiased. Empty for a hundred or so years, somepony eventually got the bright idea to run a brothel out of it- this is one of the few ‘safe zones’ of Fillydelphia, used to be a settlement here before the Applejack’s Rangers swept through. Well, the brothel’s owner found a Stable with a sealed entrance in the basement- apparently they’d gotten by stallion-free for all that time. Nopony’s quite sure how, but there were... Samples in deep-freeze they coulda used. Fifty or so years ago the Enclave rolled in and took everything around this part of town from the Rangers and got to work rebuilding. It’s one of the places President Surprise has a link to, home to a bit of the Enclave in this area, the Cloverfield Society keeps ponies here, and whatever children don’t end up with the Crusaders in the Fillydelphia operational area grow up here.”

“Barracks, home to eggheads and a politician, and still an orphanage. Got it.” I shook my head. I didn’t ask what it was in a quantum sense, I asked what it was -now- in the observable present. Wait, what? Why were wasteland ponies all so talkative...

We stepped to one side as a flock of foals flew and stampeded past us, a flustered fuschia filly in tow. I rubbed an ear as the hallway quieted down, I felt.. smarter. My head clearer. I could almost hear my brain humming. We were stopped by a couple uniformed unicorns, who waved us on at a nod from my companion. Another elevator. We headed down again, into the depths of Fillydelphia this time.

“That’s an interesting accent you have, Spanner Wrench.”

 “105 was all Bayston area ponies. What’s your excuse, Stalliongrad?”

He chuckled. “You should hear my sister. Hers is much thicker. My name is Crimson Dawn, by the way. The terminal you’ll use to speak with the President is right through here.

I stepped out of the elevator and through a doorway into a room dominated by a terminal. “This is getting old, Surprise.”

“Ah. Spanner Wrench. I was expecting you. Is it done? Did you find, perhaps, resolve in Ponyville?”

“I guess you could say that. I’ll do no more for you until you pay me what you owe. Deliverance of Magenta Sky to Stalliongrad, the eradication of the Ponyville slaver camp... I’ve done enough. Pay me. I also think I deserve a face-to-face meeting... I found out some interesting things from a Major Gilda Stormstrider.”

There wasn’t any response from the other end, and then Surprise replied. “In time...” She paused for a moment, then continued. “In the meantime... I have more for you to do. But you’re right. You have earned something. A commendation for your friend. She shall henceforth be elevated to the rank of Vanguard. For you, access to everything the Enclave has to offer. Our labs and machine shops are open, within reason.”

This pot seemed awful sweet.. I pursed my lips and looked up at the ceiling as if mulling this over. “What’s the catch?”

“Crimson Dawn will brief you on your return to Ponyville. You wanted access to the Fluttershy Medical Center, did you not?”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head a little, trying to chase away the crawling sensation inside. Did the need never end with this one? Didn’t she have an endless army to do these things? I sighed a little and did my best to look put-upon. “I guess I can head back to Ponyville. I need my team and we weren’t finished picking the place over, anyhow.”

“Goodbye, Spanner. The next time we speak will be the Fluttershy Medical Center... Face to face.”

I felt nothing as I left. I guess I was just.. Jaded to the ways of the world by now. Life had lost its luster. I longed for easy days of fucking around in my Stable. Surprise rubbed me the wrong way somehow. Just didn’t feel right to be taking these missions from her.. I grumbled to myself and watched Dawn, who had been watching me while smirking bemusedly. he struck a button that would take our elevator back up into the once and now orphanage. “I’m supposed to travel with you for a while, Spanner.” We stepped off the elevator and trotted down to the streets of Fillydelphia. I heard the subtle sounds of a riot forming not far off- shouting and general grumbling, the clatter of tools being readied for use as weapons. Things were going to blow up soon, and my armor-less ass was going to be far away when they did! Stable riots were one thing... What about Wasteland riots?

I looked up at Crimson, and he frowned as he heard it as well. “That can’t be good.”

“It’s that crazy that is trying to build an empire out of the southern half of FillyDee.. He probably managed to whip up his ponies..” We retreated back into the building, he trotted into a side room and returned with a shotgun. Twelve round drum, twelve-gauge.. Lethal at close range and effective at medium. Perfect.

“This is an I-”

“LR Ironpony-89. I’m aware. I don’t know why it would be stocked in an orphanage, though. Big step up from the 88 model which had a tendency to explode if the barrel was put under too much stress.” Where did that come from?

“Ah.. Yes. Don’t let anypony get too close.. They use the automatic chopsaws as well in their attempt at industry, and it probably wouldn’t do your unprotected flesh too well- there’s no armor that will fit you.” He was slipping me into some sort of saddle- and then I ‘realized’ immediately what it was. There was a crawling sensation in my forehead and then the knowledge was there.

“Combat harness Mark Three... Police special. Probably will need some shoring up to fit under my belly.” I reached out with my magic, helping him clip on the shotgun and hook it into the reloader mechanism, which held two reserve drums. I decided I wasn’t going to argue with my newfound scientific expertise- or at least my freaky knowledge of materiel. “I know, I wear a foal’s Stable suit.”

Now armed, at least, and with me trying not to chew on the shotgun’s bit, Crimson lead me out into Fillydelphia’s quickly-becoming-meaner streets. Night was approaching, and lights were kicking on all over. I whipped around, and realized the noise I’d heard was just my imagination. After tensing on the bit, the shotgun bucking and roaring as it spat buckshot into the darkness. “Must have been my imagination.”

“No, you heard something.” A flashlight on his rifle kicked on and illuminated the shotgunned corpse of something that had once been a pony (and ugly before the Ironpony had taken its face). “They call em ‘hippus’ around here. Something in the air, the water, around here.. Eventually it rots ponies from the inside out, makes them something.. less.”

“Shit. Should just wipe this town and be done with it.”

“Applejack’s Ranger’s tried. It used to be a lot worse...”

I shook my head and checked my Pipbuck. “Let’s see here... Scanning for.. Vertibucks.” The tag tracker found us one, one street over. No debris. “Alright. That way.” I pointed with a hoof, and let him lead as he had the flash and was wearing armor. I heard a low growl and called out to him, he noticed the pony rushing towards him with the grip of a rotary saw gripped in his teeth, getting ready to slice through his chest. His rifles barked three times each in rapid succession, and the pony stumbled, dropping to the ground. I looked around and nudged it with a hoof, unclasping the mask covering its whole head. Luckily, it seemed to be a corpse, and we were about the same size, so I slipped on the mask and nudged the filters. “Holy shit, they have night vision?”

“They work underground, in toxic environments, and it’s almost always too dark to see worth shit in this town. So yeah, they have pretty decent filtration helmets with a vision-field effect in the goggles.”

I laughed. This was almost too easy. No mutation for me (unless it could get in through the skin... hmm..) AND I could see! I trotted forwards, almost not paying attention as I rounded the corner, noticing the pony racing towards me at the last moment, and backpedaling as fast as I could. “Shitshitshitshit!” It looked.. wrong somehow. I realized it was upside down. Both eyes were bloodshot and one looked dead, its jaw worked in a keening screech as it clawed at the pavement. Its legs didn’t seem to work properly; it was all broken up like somepony’d worked it over with a sledgehammer.. Something snapped and it crashed to the ground, bone showing an eerie green in the lenses as it stuck out of the forelimb, the thing trying to rise again before I clenched my teeth around the bit in my mouth. Again. And again. And again. I fired until it stopped moving and the only response from the shotgun was a dry clicking sound. I fought to regain my breathing and realized that Crimson was... holding me.

“What..”

“Breathe. Relax. It’s dead now.” He nudged the mechanism that dropped the drum out of the shotgun, and slapped a fresh one into place. “Orange band... Shit. Be careful with these, I didn’t look at the drums. Don’t shoot anything too close to you.” He pulled away with a small smile as he trotted off towards the Vertibuck laying down the street, spotlights illuminating the area around it like daytime. I shakily rose to my hooves, wondering what good a shotgun that you couldn’t shoot things up close with was...

Nothing came out of nowhere after us, and the trip to the vehicle was actually pretty anticlimactic. We stepped into the circle of light... and then everything exploded. Hot fragments of metal were tossed into the air, both of us tossed backwards. “Well there goes our ride.” I muttered, holding my head and trying to ignore the faint ticking coming from my Pipbuck.

“Shut up. Find us another.” He looked up and cursed. “Belay that.”

I tilted my head and followed his line of sight. Well... shit. “Well.. This day just can’t get any better.” It looked like it once was a pony... before someone fed it up on Buck-up. A massive.. thing of twisted flesh was slowly laboring its way down the street towards us... Somepony had seen to stick at least four missile launchers to this thing, and a massive six-barreled gun hung off either side. A foal rode on its back, a crazed grin in its face as it raced among the weaponry bristling from the thing, reloading, apparently. I saw a flash of something in the little one’s hooves. No, she was injecting it with chems.

Two more missiles streaked through the air towards us as me’n Crimson dove to get out of the way, a high-pitched whine echoing through the street after the concussion of the blasts. “Minigun’s spinning up! Shoot the damned thing, Spanner! Aim for the launchers!”

I saw what he was thinking. I had no Jet, no chems, nothing.. This would be me (and SATS, of course). I tossed myself out from behind the ground vehicle I’d been using as cover, and stared up at the thing before a crazy plan formulated in my head. I dashed forward, lining up a shot with one eye slightly squinted and the other staring down the shotgun’s sighting.

“COME ON, IF YOU THINK YOU’RE HARD ENOUGH!”

I screamed at the thing, it roared in response and I had what I was looking for. It’s undivided attention. I slipped into the calmness of SATS, everything pausing as I balanced on the knife-edge of the moment, waiting, waiting, waiting.. It fired, and I laughed before queuing up the shot, and clamped down on the bit. The spell fell away and returned me to the heat and rush of the Fillydelphia night, the sounds of those massive weapons slung off it speeding up and preparing to unleash leaden death, my own laughter, and a massive explosion as slug met missile and blew off half of its face.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed Tall Mutated and Stupid wasn’t in control of himself, or had such a tiny peabrain that missing half of its skull didn’t bother it. What I can only describe as a roar issued from the cycling barrels on either side as they began flinging rounds my way. I felt each impact, the path of each bullet as a lance of ice, and PAIN. I could feel it. I went down hard, and felt, rather than heard, the rough grumbling sound of the beast’s laughter.

The lights of the helmet went dark, or my vision became blurry and dim as I felt the burning pain of the holes riddling my flesh and allowing my ruby lifeblood to spill in a slowly-spreading pool around me... I heard a scream and looked up, color returning to the world briefly as I saw Crimson flying, taking advantage of my distracting the mutant and ditching me to bleed out in the street no doubt. I wondered if I was dying. Probably. Sure felt like it. I looked forward to dying. I wondered if I’d see my mother.

“Get up.”

“I’m not in the mood for your shit, Sapper. I’m dying. I want to go home. I’m sixteen Luna-scorned years old.. and I’m bleeding out in the streets of Fillydelphia, murdered by a mutant.”

“You’re not dying. Look, hardly even a scratch. Stop being melodramatic.”

I couldn’t do it. I wondered if the gray pony I saw ever had these moments.. When she just gave up. I curled in the pool of my own blood as my vision swam, black eating at the corners of it. I could see Sapper watching me, her outline faintly glowing. She was the most solid thing I could see. I was begging.. Pleading to feel the weight no more..

“Say anything.. or just say nothing.. Please. Just take me with you to Everafter.”

“It is not your time to make that journey, my dear Spanner. You have many miles to walk yet.”

Oh... Celestia... And it was. Just like in my dream. The dream I’d had before... everything. Before the Lottery. I writhed and held up my hooves to her, pleading for succor. Begging for her to take the weight from my back. She stood tall, at least if not taller than Cutthroat. Just as haughty as in my dream. I thought that this was going to go the same way, she would end me in an instant.. But she gathered me in her gilded forehooves, and helped me to rise. I felt... The only way to describe it was that I felt gold. I shone. Light poured from the bulletholes, from my eyes, my mouth... The blood was rising from the ground as I stood there in wonder. The ruby liquid, my life’s blood, was flowing back into me.. Into the holes ripped in my flesh, the wounds healing and scarring over as I stood. Celestia... fuck it can’t really be her... She set me down, and touched her horn to mine for a magical, golden moment. I felt.. Great. I sneered at the snivelling pony I’d been five minutes previously, begging to die.

And then she was gone. I went to take a step and stumbled. My forelock was still electric blue... But I could also spot red and green.. and yellow.. My mane was a fucking rainbow. Interesting. Why did my body still not work?

I realized I was taller. Bigger. I felt something shift in me as I tapped into the magic pooling within me, loosening the straps on the combat harness until it fit better. I laughed aloud as I took the bit between my teeth and stripped off the shredded filtration helmet. I could see in the red twilight as well as if Celestia’s sun was burning directly overhead.

Crimson stared at me, as I stretched out my new form and popped my joints, ignoring the ponies stepping out of sidestreets and alleys to back up the monster. My head felt clear. And I felt power like golden light rushing through my veins. The giant pony wound up his miniguns again, and there was that same awful blasting sound; continuous ratatatatat. But I didn’t care. White wings enfolded me, and an aura bloomed around me, my eyes narrowing as I bit down. Another shell blasted from my shotgun, and exploded against the pony’s shoulder. I laughed and ran forward as the beast fired to no effect, a miniature sun blazing around me and throwing heat and light.. Soon there was the clickclickclick of an empty drum, and I ripped the shotgun from the saddle with a burst of magic as I leapt so freely it felt like flying... The butt came down and crashed in the little pony’s face, I kicked it off and tossed the shattered weapon aside. I grinned at a devilish idea.

A glow hazed into being around my horn, the light of the aura contracting and feeding into my magic, and the miniguns were torn from their housing, the pony casting about for me and still firing. I swung them towards the growing crowd and laughed as the rounds chewed through meat and filled the courtyard with a lake of blood and chunky pony salsa. Abruptly, the guns stopped as the monster below me fell as if poleaxed as rounds neatly severed his head from the neck.

Just as quickly as I’d been charged by this energy, it fell away. I could still see perfectly (almost -too- well), I was covered in blood, but I no longer glowed, and there was no longer a protective nimbus about me. I was free of the murderous lust that had sprung within me at so much power coursing through me, and the sight of so much death wrought by my own horn made me a little bit queasy.

I was breathing hard, and staring down at the ground, examining every grain of the blood-splattered brickwork. “Spanner? What happened? I saw you fall, and then you just.. exploded into a ball of light..”

“I prayed... and my prayers were answered.” I wondered at the cost. “But now it seems I’m free to pave my own way."

“I see. Find us another Vertibuck and let’s get out of here. This place is going to turn upside down over the next hour between the Enclave and Asher’s ponies.. And probably the ponies of Minimum Security will break out.. and the hippi will make things fun for everypony involved. Not deserting or anything, but... Surprise wants you alive, so I’m going to make sure you stay that way, alright?” He seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of just leaving his comrades like this with the shit just bubbling up from the sewers to drown all of them.

I nodded and looked down at my Pipbuck, shuffling through and peering over my area map. “Uh... There’s another on top of a building to the southeast.”

He nodded and looked up at the dark clouds obscuring the sky, before smiling a little bit. “No worries. We’ll get there. I’ll fly you there, it’ll be cake.” Right, just as this visit was supposed to be a cakewalk..

So that's how I ended up with my forelegs hooked around Crimson's neck and holding on for dear life lest I fall off and splat against streets far below us. Doubt filled my mind as I stared down at the ground so far away, before burying my nose in his mane. "Flying sucks. Why did I agree to this."

He snickered idly and shook his head as he flapped his powerful wings, driving us higher. Luckily, nopony was taking potshots at us yet, so we were free to fly. No more monsters made of towering twisted flesh and wielding more armnament than should be allowed a single pony. His hooves thumped against the top of the skyscraper and I leapt off immediately, still unsure of my new body. I trotted towards the Vertibuck where it lay on a landing pad, dark and unobtrusive. "Well. Looks like the nightmare is now over. We can get the fuck out of this poisoned town."

You're probably thinking this is where everything went wrong, right? Well... Yeah. A couple ponies clipped into harnesses and well-armed thundered onto the rooftop and brandished their weapons at us. Crimson cocked his rifle and cursed, and I cast about for armor, arms, anything! Well.. I did have a friend! I dove behind the pegasus as they opened fire, bullets plinking off his thick combat armor. "The fuck are you doing!?"

I looked over and concentrated, a misty blue haze of thaumic energy collecting around my horn as I recalled my lessons in magic given me by my mother.

"All ponies have magic, Wrenchie."

"Even Earth ponies?"

"Yes. But unicorns are unique in that we can force the magic of our bodies out through our horn to put it directly to work. Your teacher will probably tell you of laws, I will simply tell you not to stretch your limits. You'll die."

I grimaced and reached out with the magic, feeling it collect around the light machine gun attached to one of the ponies' combat harnesses. I treated it like an extension of my own body, 'biting' down on it and wrenching at it with the sheath.

"Like that, momma?"

"Yes Wrenchie. Carefully now." The screwdriver I was holding wobbled and began to carefully turn- like I was biting down upon it or manipulating it with my hooves. The screw came loose steadily, and in my excitement I lost control and dropped the screwdriver, the hardened (but brittle) steel shattering on contact with the floor.

"Oh... momma I'm so sorry! I broke it!" My mother's face screwed up and she set her teeth, her expression quickly becoming that which I began to call her 'rageface' in the privacy of my own mind and when I spoke of our relationship to Silk Spun. And then she sighed, like she sighed on the day that Daddy di- LEFT the Stable, and folded her forelegs around me. I sighed, too, and relaxed against her as I saw her own horn spark up.

"Relax, Wrenchie.. I'm not mad. Just disappointed. Here, watch, I'll teach you another thing."

I realized it would be impossible for me to tear it off the mount; it seemed bolted sturdily into place. I grimaced and felt the world slow as I switched tactics and began influencing the bolts holding it fast.

"Now, if you find yourself without a specific tool, with enough concentration you can make a magical version. The same idea as normally influencing things, only applied in the shape of a tool."

A haze collected as I gritted my teeth, staring and ignoring the bullets ricocheting around me. It contracted in the shape of an electric-blue spanner that gripped first one bolt and then the other, steadily removing them. Now freed, I let the spell go and tore the weapon free as I pounced forward, landing on the back of the male with all four hooves outstretched and placed against one another as I slammed into his spine, hearing a gratifying snap. I wrenched a foreleg around his skull, holding his jaw tight around the bit as I swerved the machine gun onto his dumbstruck companions, making them dive for cover as 5.56 crackled through the air.

"Remember this. Remember E.F.S. Remember S.A.T.S. You never know when they'll come in handy." It didn't strike me then, but it made my heart hollow to remember today. "Most importantly, don't forget to eat, stay in when it rains, and make friends.."

I was so shocked with the thread of memory that I lost all concentration and dropped the gun. Luckily, the ponies intent on keeping us from leaving had dispersed by now, spooked by my show of magical power and the hail of bullets. "... She knew."

"Who knew what, Spanner?" Crimson Dawn immediately flew over and began checking the vehicle out for immediate use.

"My mother. She knew. She knew that the Lottery would call my name. She prepared me for a harsh life in the Wastes as best she could." I now knew why she'd had me help her maintain the reactor that one time; to teach me of the wonders of RadSafe and Rad-B-Gon.

"Would you rather realize that she knew that, or that she knew that and tried her best to prepare you for it? Our parents do their best to prepare us for the world." He reached up and bit a padded grip on the body, tugging down the hatch of the Vertibuck and letting us inside.

"Can you fly this thing?" I trotted after him, staring uneasily at the stairwell the ponies had emerged from.

"Of course. My mother taught me the basics of Vertibuck operation." He trotted towards the front, as I shut the door. I followed after a moment, taking the seat that the copilot would normally take as I watched him. "Diagnostics say we're running clean. Starting engines." A loud thrum began, conducted by the hull, as the rotors on either wing started turning. "Overpressure system active. Maintaining cockpit at one and a half atmospheres." I felt the familiar lurch of liftoff, and smacked my head off the console ahead of me. Pain flared, lights flashed in my eyes, and passed out.

Interlude: Pausing for Breath.

The small female had been slowly shifting over the course of her story as she'd described things. Haltingly at first her story came, before the shade poured herself out into the cups of sweet wine the ponies listening sipped from. Questions came as she fell silent, looking down into her drink as if unsure of how to continue, or finished with the story. Her chromatic mane flopped down in front of her muzzle, but that eye-catching lock of electric blue still remained the focal point.

"Keep going." The gray mare with the Pipbuck cutie mark spoke up, leaning across the table.

A mostly-cybernetic looking white mare with a black and red striped mane sipped from her mug of Wild Pegasus before letting it be refilled. "That's how this place works. You tell your story until it's tired and the Wasteland forgets that you ever existed. You just keep telling that story until the details get fuzzy and you forget. It's a way of atoning for your sins, I guess. But you need to keep airing out that story. Even though you're dead, you still need to get over."

The black-plumed griffon just smirked in that savvy way he had behind his silver mask and continued polishing glasses and the bar in between refilling mugs and cups. He spoke, which shocked most of the ponies in the bar; he was dubbed The Black by some and Listener by others as that's all he ever did. His voice was slightly cold, yet jingled with the mirth of some joke only he was privy to, and carried a tint of that province known as Germaney. "And when all the stories are told und forgotten... Then there shall be an end to things."

Spanner Wrench took a deep breath and tipped back her drink, before staring into the empty mug, content with the way things were at the moment and not wishing for a refill. "Not much has happened, I'll admit. It took a long time to tell, a month of inactivity and no more than a week of frenetic motion without stopping. I slept when I got knocked the fuck out." She took another small breath, the shade seeming to contract in on herself before filling out.

"I have my Arbu. I have my mattress. Just as you have, I've had my moments. But if there's one thing I'm not.. It's a nice pony. I'm not a good pony." She pointed at the gray mare and the white one in turn. "You both have pedestals. You clawed your way atop them and viciously defended your positions. Desperately, you remained the Good pony. The pony wearing the white hat. You were tested, you stumbled, but... I think you both should feel marble under your hooves."

"I have no pedestal.  I never wanted one. If I came across it, I'd probably use it for cover. I'll do as you wish and continue, but I must warn you that it gets bleaker from here on out."

A coffee-colored stallion with a rather scruffy-looking brown mane burst into the bar, leaning on the swivel doors and screaming into the barroom. "I need five stallions who can dance the can-can, and aren't allergic to asparagus!"

I woke up with my head wrapped in gauze from where it had been bleeding. I wondered who had taken care of that. I could see the lights of Ponyville not far off from where we were, probably another ten minutes or so.. "Something doesn't sit right with me. Why was Magenta in a flight with more of your siblings?"

 "We're combing the Wasteland for our sister Twister. The Colonel will be pleased to have her come home."

"The Colonel... I get the feeling she don't like me too much." I felt an odd twitch in the pit of my chest as I noticed a photograph attached to one of the terminals in the bank before me. My magic lifted it, and I tilted my head as I examined the lineup; two unicorns, an Earth filly, and a pegasus, all in slightly different uniforms and appearing only a little older than myself. I turned it over, brow furrowing as I read the careful writing on the back that had weathered the intervening two hundred years well.

'Cutie Mark Crusader Equestrian Army Recruits! - Scootaloo (Airmare First Class), Applebloom (Private First Class),  Sweetie Belle (Private First Class), Dinky Doo (Seamare First Class)'

Dinky Doo... She looked familiar... Then it hit me. I'd seen almost that exact coloration in my brother. I'd seen this mare, middle-aged, in a photograph back in the Stable. I wondered when she'd became Sapper Spade the engineer. Below the names, lay a less-calmly written post-script that bore... Coordinates. My Eyes-Forward Sparkle flashed, and 'Pipbuck tag added' flashed in my vision. A quick check of my map showed us to be close, and I pointed to the same place on the Vertibuck’s map. "Can you put us down... there?"

Crimson raised a brow, but nodded. The Vertibuck whined softly, as we swung over a place my Pipbuck named 'Sweet Apple Acres'. I really wondered how it did that. And then I didn't wonder, because I knew. Mapmaking spell in the Robronco over-engineered piece of scrap on my foreleg that updated itself, loaded with a full map of pre-war Equestria. The landing struts of the vehicle sunk into the loam as I peered out of the hatch at a small building nestled in the trees. My brilliant logic deduced that it was a 'treefort'. My Pipbuck agreed, the tag I was chasing updating to 'Crusader Base' on my map.

"Stay here.. I want to check something out." I flicked my chromatic mane out of my vision as I stepped carefully down, looking around before trotting across the field and up the ramp into the little building. The inside was as bright to me as if it was daytime, despite the clouds shrouding the black sky overhead.

It was nothing I could have dreamed of, back home. (Home, how that word stung after nearly two months..) A foal-sized table with cushions strewn around it. A mural of blankflank Scootaloo, Applebloom, and Sweetie Belle that pained me with its hopeless cheer. They had no idea their world would be war within ten years of this painting.. A stairway leading up to a second level, that didn't appeal to me currently, as there was something on the table. A hooflocker.

Now, in my experience, hooflockers abandoned in prewar ruins -usually- held good stuff. I salivated at the thought of what might be inside. I tapped it cautiously in case it had a mine hidden under it, and was surprised to find the lid snap open fairly easily. Would I find anything there? I noticed an orange filly in the corner who had snapped to attention upon my arrival, appraised me with glowing red eyes for a moment, and settled back down. She... it seemed artificial, and I had no doubt its unnaturally smooth flesh was achieved through a metal shell.

Peering over the edge of the locker, I was astonished to find it full of assorted stuff. Obviously if the machine-filly hadn't approved of my message, something would have happened to discourage me from taking anything or entering. Or maybe the steady click-click-clicking of my Pipbuck's radiation sensor was why. I levitated the top object out, which seemed to be a set of combat armor with a rampant Earth filly on each flank where a pony's cutie mark would be. I didn't argue with the find, just slipped it on slowly, reminded of Cutthroat's little performance with her own power armor as I buckled it into place.

A new set of saddlebags followed, and I was pleasantly surprised to find a shotgun and a revolver in the bottom of the locker. There was a holster on the right hoof that the revolver fit into. I marveled at the craftsmanship, surely only a unicorn could turn out a piece so beautiful! A hammer entwined with apple blossoms marked each side of the ebony mouthgrip, the gun itself seeming to be chambered for the rifle cartridges I could spot in the locker, my EFS advising me they were '.45-70 Gov't" and that the box only held ten. Two reloads then. The shotgun was the same story, only the armor held its own harness that it locked into. Beautifully crafted, and I thought I could still smell and spot the oil it had been packed away coated in to preserve it against the ages. A laser played across the far wall as I tried the fit of the bit attached to the gun, to my surprise. The blued steel barrel gleamed darkly in the wan light, and I licked my lips at the thought of what this might be able to do, what I was capable of with this new weaponry.

Shiny bits, a few bottles of Sparkle-Cola, a few assorted books and magazines marked [BANNED MATERIAL] across the covers, and a metal box emptied out the locker and left me feeling accomplished. This little find more than made up for the Fillydelphia fiasco. A holotape caught my eye, that I hadn't noticed before. Thankfully, my overengineered piece of scrap knew how to play it, it involved simply pressing one side of the tape to a small slot that could be accessed just above the screen. A little white pony thumped her hooves impatiently in my head as I waited, before 'CMC- Final Meeting' appeared in my Notes, before the file played.

“This shall be our final meeting." Sweetie Belle.

"Ever'thin's gone wrong. We're in our forties now, girls.. can you believe it?" Accented, I didn't reconize the voice.

"I know, 'Bloom... It's all sideways... I remember.. Seems so long ago now, that we did that stupid talent show."

"All y'all did fine, then. I do remembah beatin' ouah lil songbuhd here in tha Sistahooves Social." Sa- Dinky? Which means the other voices were Scootaloo and Applebloom.

"The Crusaders are huge... everypony's off fighting and dying... Families are being torn apart."

"If you're listening to this, and you aren't one of us four, it means what we're doing next has failed. Each of us will leave something important in this locker, and one of 'Bloom's golems can watch it. I'll put in Lil' Bloom."

Applebloom and Sweetie were embarrassedly quiet as the other two had a quiet giggle at their expense. "I'll put in my ahmah. Gonna trade it in for a 105 bahding tomorrow, anyway.. Kept me safe through my whole careeyuh. Lotsa pockets, room fo'tools."

"I guess muh Applebucker kin go in. Ain't gonna have much use for her from behind a desk."

"I'll put in stuff I saved from the burn pile, a snack or two for the pony who'll read all this, and a backup of all my evidence."

A small sigh. "Ah guess that's all she wrote. Tonight, we'll leave here, and tomorrow Dinky gets shipped off to 105, Ah start drivin' a desk, Sweetie goes back on tour... And Scoots'll... Aw hell, I can't say it..."

"Tomorrow, every newspaper shall know of our crimes against Equestria. Celestia. Luna. Me. You three. Rarity. Pinkie. ... Dash. Everypony who could have stopped this. Everypony who let this drag on for thirty years."

"Hey, why don't we.. one more time..?"

An exasperated sigh, and murmurs of assent. Four voices lift in song, filling one another with strength.

"We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders... On a quest to find out who we are... And we will never stop the journey... Not until we have our cutie marks..."

I blinked as the recording ended, finding myself filled with a deep melancholy. Loaded down with new armor, new weapons, ammunition, books, and a weight in my heart, I trotted out of the clubhouse and back into the night, quickly across the field to where the Vertibuck lay idling. Crimson looked at me as I flopped into the copilot's seat and let out a sob.

"Nice gear. Hey wait... Are you crying..?" He turned to me, concern filling his baritone, Stalliongrad-flavored voice. "What's wrong."

"Nothing.. Just a recording I found." I gathered myself up and twitched both my ears, leaning back in the seat. "Just let's go already."

"First one? They'll get you, don't you worry. But something sick inside you wants the hurt, wants to know what is left behind by those that perished in the fire." He looked back to the controls and fired up the rotors, the vehicle raising into the air again and bringing us back the rest of the way to Ponyville. No sooner had the landing struts thumped the cobbles than Magenta rushed forward to meet me, before scowling at the pegasus who disembarked next to me.

"Brother. Spanner? What happened to you? What did they do?"

"I can't explain it myself, I don't exactly know. I got better after getting minigunned. After that... Kinda fuzzy on the exacts."

Crimson thumped an armored forehoof impatiently. "Was she among the rescues, Magenta?"

"We'll talk later, Spanner. No, Crimson.. but there was evidence that she was here. One of the slaves I freed had seen her, she was taken away about two weeks ago. And everypony we could question is dead."

"Not everypony." I left them to their catching up on familial matters (something I was clueless on) and ducked into the library. Doc was upstairs, still tending to the mare I'd shot yesterday. She was awake, and looked ugly. Her ruined face slurred her words oddly.

"I shot you, twice. You should not be alive right now."

"Yeah yeah yeah shove it up your ass. You missed the second shot and the first barely tore my coat. You're luck my little brother is a good sawbones on top of being a bleeding heart. I didn't miss."

She injected a Med-X into her neck, and closed her eyes. "I'm aware. What are you doing here, Stable pony? Why did you destroy my outfit? What does Paradise want with Ponyville, with us?"

"The Enclave sent me to wipe you guys out. Paradise is just a convenient story to get us past the gates. Me? I'm going to pick over this town, then me'n my backup are gonna trot our happy asses off to the Fluttershy Medical Center. Wherever that is. Simply business." I smiled a little. Why was I being friendly to this mare? I oughta put another bullet in her head and make sure this one took. I transferred over my saddlebags, and grabbed Air’s Hammer, putting my barding away as I watched her.

"The Order will be here soon to investigate the Vertibucks fluttering around here. They'll be curious as to why the Enclave is here." She rubbed the place where her face was flat from the bullet ripping it to shit and destroying the underlying bone structure. I noticed her left eye was milky white and.. held a crosshair instead of pupil and iris. Well. First time for everything. "You should be gone when they get here, there will be a terrible battle."

I pursed my lips and took a small breath. A white pony told me that I could talk her out of what I wanted from her, without taking her apart.  "Wha'sser name?

"Twelve-Power."

"Mine's Spanner Wrench. I guess you can come with us a while, if we should de-ass this area with quickness soonish, like you said. I thought Akashi ran this town?"

"Akashi was a fool. But my kind are generally frowned upon. Old stereotypes. I can show you the Center, and you're unlikely to survive it without me. It's in Bayston." She got up with a great stretch, and I realized then just how large she was. She was at least as big as Cutthroat, if less bulky, more slim. Okay. I was friends with a pegasus whose flesh was slowly rotting, the trick filly of a half-mechanical-probably-unkillable-monster that straddled the line between mare and stallion. I myself was slowly disintegrating, hallucinating, and had nearly died a horrible death by minigun in Fillydelphia before being rescued by Princess Celestia and put back on my hooves (along with whatever else had been done to me). Even with all this taken into account... Was I really that jaded of the ways of the world that this didn't bother me? That meeting a goddess in the flesh didn't phase me? I'd have to keep on waiting, see what else came of this...

Her rifle pulled itself apart in a pale-green fog, her minty eyes regarding me as she slung on the massive thing and wriggled on a saddlebag bulging with bullets the size of my horn. Now I knew how lucky I was to be alive- she'd torn a chunk out of me with one of those and had barely even hit me. My ears twitched at a noise, and I raced down the stairs to the main room of the library, hearing some sort of commotion outside.

Vertibucks.

Two had touched down on either side of a gazebo containing a statue of a massive Earth pony rearing up on his hind hooves, brandishing a sword. They were disgorging ponies with Enclave Black power armor, that timeless insectile look and large weapons. A further three were circling, waiting their turn. Ponyville was being occupied. I trotted over to where Magenta was waiting, her expression carefully blank. A slowly stirring Gilda was chained at her hooves.

"Zis is wrong. The Order will see this incursion into their territory and send forces. Ten minutes and there will be bloodshed."

"So let's make sure to be gone and out of the crossfire in nine?"

She shook her head, and watched the troops assembling, ponies in Enclave Scientist uniforms installing what I recognized to be comms arrays, grunts placing deployable cover in the broader streets and blocking off smaller ones entirely. The town square was impenetrable within a minute of their arrival.

Crimson Dawn cleared his throat and looked at me and Magenta, before focusing on me. "I hope you don't mind this detour, but the Enclave, your Enclave, needs you to escort three war criminals by Vertibuck from the town of Ponyville. The foal, the ghoul, and my sister shall remain here, against your return. The foal belongs in an orphanage, the ghoul shot for treason, and my sister assisting us in our occupation by rights, anyway."

Words flashed across my vision- "Quest Added; Milk Run. Objective; Ride with the Vertibuck Crew to their destinations."

I opened my map, twitching an ear to Crimson Dawn, who had given Magenta a ledger, the dyed mare beginning to read from it. Twelve-Power was thrown to the cobbles in front of me, knowing better than to put up a fuss in the face of so much weaponry so close to her, technicians were working on stripping Cutthroat of her arms and armor. I distractedly watched the comms officer finishing setting up his terminal and raising the transmitter. I started to pay attention to the reading again as she was finishing up the charges leveled against Cutthroat.

"Major Gilda Stormstrider, Holy Order of the Golden Dawn. You stand accused of terrorism against the Enclave, four hundred thirty seven counts of murder first and second, assault with a deadly weapon, and one count of attempted murder in the first degree.

Nightstalker Twelve-Power, Stable-Tek Sniper Corps. You stand accused of raiding, murder in the first degree, attempted murder in the second degree, larceny, and slaving.

For each of your crimes against Equestria and the Enclave, I Magenta Sky, Vanguard of the Stalliongrad Enclave, condemn you to life in Canterlot Maximum Security Prison.

Master Sergeant Cutthroat shall be brought to Cloverfield for decommissioning. Enclave-commissioned civilian contracter Spanner Wrench of Stable 105 shall be accompanying you.

May Gods have mercy upon your souls."

So that's how I ended up napping and staring at the white unicorn figurine I'd found as the air transport buzzed off many miles out of my way to run yet another errand for Surprise. Last time I'd looked out a window there had been a whole bunch of nothing but forest and clouds between the pinkish cloudbank surrounding Canterlot and the bustling metropolis of Ponyville. I could already hear the first shots being fired, far off behind us.

I tilted my head, Twelve-Power picked her chin up off her forehooves, Gilda looked worried, and Cutthroat was.. implacable Cutthroat as there was a heavy thump on the roof. Crimson grimaced and readied the bit of his rifles as he pushed open a roof hatch. "I'll go see what it was."

The next thing I knew, I heard him scream before his bottom half fell back into the the Vertibuck, splattering gore as there was another loud thud. Times like these I wished I wasn't quite so aware of my surroundings... Then a shaggy-maned head poked through the thankfully pony-sized hatch and roared, the beast struggling to get the Cram out of the proverbial can. One of the pilots shouted the obvious, obligatory "Shut that hatch! Get on the guns and take care of these manticores before they push us into the forest!"

I wasn't Crimson, and he was undeniably no longer with us. But, I was the only pony not currently restrained or otherwise occupied. I drew Air's Hammer from my foreleg (It was nice to have it back, a little familiarity; I wasn't quite ready for Lil' Bloom or Applebucker yet..) and fired all five times, reloading as quickly as I could.

The... Manticore? just roared and seemed more pissed off by my bullets than anything else. It became apparent that I neede more gun.

Then the world came to a screeching halt. Everything became painfully clear as if I was on mints, as I noticed and lifted Crimson's beam pistol from where it had dropped from its holster. A voice whispered the design specifications of this particular model as I bit the grip. I felt a nudge, somepony guiding my aim. I looked aside and saw the outline of the newly deceased red pegasus, who tipped me a wink from his place next to me, one foreleg around my neck and shoulders. My gaze flicked back forward as I worked the trigger.

There was a flash, and an odd sound as a bright blue bolt of energy sprung from the square muzzle of the weapon, striking the beast between the eyes. There was a neat hole in its forehead and ash ran from its empty eye sockets, disintegrating into powder in slow motion as I stared. Calmly, I dropped the gun and crushed it under a forehoof. Nothing so horrific should be allowed to exist. I trotted forward and closed the hatch, trying not to think of what would have happened had I missed!

"Good shot." I turned, I was alone with Cutthroat and the other two, the voice and Dawn vanished.

"I hope you find Everafter, Dawn.."

I was roused from my mourning of a newly-won friend and mulling over why the death pained me, and why I suddenly felt the way I did about beam weapons- I'd been pleased with Ditzy's and Magenta’s, after all- by a shout from the pilot compartment.

"Shit. Manticores are back. Everypony strap in back there."

I trotted off and found a rather claustrophobic compartment dominated by a seat and terminal with a joystick attached. The drumming of the rotors was louder here, I must be in one of the wings. I dropped into the seat and engaged the harness, shoving my hooves over the controls in front of me. Peering into the scope of the monitor-less terminal, I saw one of those things clinging to the roof of the transport, clawing at the metal. I listened as a serious voice again whispered in my ear.

"General Thaumics VAC. One on top of each wing. Left hoof aims, the trigger under your right will cycle and fire. Hold for three seconds, it will start firing. Hold three more, release. Bursts, don't overheat the guns."

"Who are you?"

"Worry about that later. For now, save yourself."

Whomever my new crazy was, she had a point. I held the button and winced as a loud whine rang out. The manticore looked up in time for its head to be fragmented into mist and the burst to chew huge holes into its body. It slid off the metal slicked with its own gore, and struck another flying up behind us.

Two more were approaching. I swung the gun around and let off a burst, scattering them and scaring them off.

“Good. It would be terrible for you to die here, in such a weak manner."

"Who are you?"

"I used to be Twilight Sparkle. I don't know what to call myself now after I was fragmented and scattered across Equestria... I think I'll be allowed to go to Everafter if you bring me back together. You carry Rarity's endurance with you, and I can feel that Dash flew with you for a short while and then went back to sleep. I can also feel Her hoof upon you. Interesting. Where are we going?"

"Canterlot, if we can get there."

"That pile of Horse's trash got you lost? Wait... Canterlot... Little red flag popping up... It's going to be very dangerous there. I will do my best to keep you safe, but I am weak.. Science is my forte. Another fragment of Rarity exists in Canterlot, I feel.. You should seek her out, you will need her strength. I won't be able to speak with you for a while..."

"So you're the one that's been downloading information into my head... and making me think bad about my Pipbuck. Thank you, though. I should be able to handle things. I've misplaced my touchstone, I'll ask your advice if I need it."

"Technical things to do with Science and Magic I can help with, but... I'm far from the pony you should be asking advice from. I can teach you to build things, but moral and social niceties alike are foreign to me."

Sounds familiar. I scanned the horizon and leaned back in the seat as I felt the weight of Twilight shift in my head. I could almost sense when she fell asleep. Was I hallucinating? Was any of this real? I wondered, and in wondering I returned to thoughts of Crimson Dawn...

I decided to stay on the gun (in case it was needed, not because of the comfy seat or because it was fucking awesome.) I admit to falling asleep in the seat, my face pressed against the scope's viewscreen. I woke to a headache and a keening sound I presumed to be some sort of siren- almost sounded like the riot alert in the Stable.

"Unidentified aircraft, you are occupying Reich airspace. Divert, land, or be landed." A cold voice filled the Vertibuck, presumably through some sort of transmission. I heard one of the pilots call back to us all in the cargo hold- like anypony but me actually needed to know this!

"Don't worry. They don't have pegasi or anything to pursue us. We've flown this before, probably just a pre-war automaton still manning its radio. Never responded to hails or recognized identification before."

Almost before he finished speaking, the vehicle trembled and was tossed around amid impossibly loud explosions as shells burst around us and filled the air with flak.

"This was a warning shot. Our guns are trained on your aircraft. Make your decision now."

"Shitshitshit." I muttered to myself. I hoped that the pilots knew what they were doing enough to evade the the anti-aircraft fire. I didn't feel like dying again today, I doubted that I'd be brought back to life this time..

Next thing I remember is the viewscreen of the cannons smeared with blood, me hanging in the harness awkwardly. Another seizure. Whatever Celestia had done, she'd only brought me back from the brink and gave me the ability to see in the night.. I pushed myself up shakily and listened to the uncertain throbbing of the motors of the aircraft.

"You and me both, yah great steel flyin' sack o' shit."

"How are you holding up?" Was that concern I heard in my hallucination's voice?

"Still dying, I feel. Only slowly now.. He's dead you know. He saved me.. And now he's dead."

"I know. I'm proud of you, Spanner. You've grown up a lot in the past week. You'll carry Fillydelphia with you forever. You'll always return to worrying at the Stable, wanting to go home. But these are places that tore at you. Take it from an old wraith like me. You'll forever regret that Crimson died so suddenly and all you could do was avenge him.

Our sins, our failures, our transgressions, they have shadows taller than our souls, shadows a thousand years long."

"It's getting more difficult to control my body. Whatever was done to me slowed it, but I'm still degenerating. My magic is shakier now than it's ever been. I'm getting so weak.."

"Endure, Spanner. The Wasteland is a conscious entity that wishes for you to fail and break and play by its rules. If you curl up and die, it wins. If you go back to raiding, if you destroy settlements and take prisoners as slaves, it wins. If the Wasteland breaks you, it wins and war never changes.. the great red bitch."

"One day. I just want ONE day without anything exploding or me getting shot."

"Then change war. Clean the Wasteland of radiation. Ban weapons. You will never have that one day if you curl up and die."

"... I know. I know. I'll endure. I can't be broken like this.."

I felt us losing altitude, and the rotors slowed. We must have been landing. I trotted through to the cargo bay and watched as quiet ponies with scarred faces trotted onto the vehicle and unloaded the prone, chained form of Cutthroat and set her on a hooftruck to bring her outside. I could make out 'Cloverfield Research' on a sign off to one side, and numerous buildings that looked less blown up than others I'd seen.

By then Twelve-Power was coming to from where she was laying on the grating of the hold. She stretched and popped her joints before the mint-green alicorn laid down again, ruffling her wings with a sigh as she got comfortable. I put Cutthroat and her fate ('decomissioning' didn't sound good.) out of my mind as I trotted towards her, still marveling at my ability to look her in the eyes without looking up.

"What's your story? Were you always an alicorn?"

"I don't exactly remember... Two hundred years is a long time, Spanner. There are three distinct personalities enmeshed to create Twelve-Power. The facility of our conception is here in Cloverfield. Our point of manufacture was in Bayston if you're curious."

I shook my head and sighed.

"Don't worry, I get the feeling everything will come up sunshine and rainbows.."

It was cold in the cargo bay, so I huddled up against Twelve-Power's side. I winced at the jerk of takeoff, and she folded a wing around me and touched her horn to mine. A spark danced between our horns and my eyes rolled up before my head thumped onto the floor.

"Sleep.. Dream of my memory." She murmured softly into my ear as she held my prone form. What a bitch! Didn’t matter, I faded out pretty quickly...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oOo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was Twelve-Power. She was looking at something through her rifle scope- ponies assembling in the square below. I recognized some of the buildings from a 105 mural- this must be Bayston, somewhere. Before the bombs.

"How many." I heard a familiar voice crackle through something in Twelve's ear.

"Ten. Enclave spec ops, looks like."

"Eyes on my mother?"

The hooves bracing the massive rifle swung it slowly to begin reading tags. "Negative."

"Take them out. I'll secure the VIP, make sure those pilots don't leave without us."

"Not much chance of that- they're a little... tied up at the moment." The pony at the other end snickered just about the same time as Twelve smoothly bit her trigger. The gun -thumped- and the thundering crash echoed off the courtyard's wall as one of the ponies was tossed back with his head missing.

Instantly the other nine looked for... anything to attack. For the mystery force that had snuffed one of their companions so cleanly (well, the effect was rather splattery, but you get my meaning). Automatic fire chattered and rounds skipped off the building below me as they tried to fix their guns on us, Twelve smoothly locking on and dropping ponies with measured shots even as they scrambled to attempt to not die. Breathe in, breathe out, bite the trigger. Repeat. Repeat. Ten times in all. I winced at the recoil of the rifle even dampened as it was, the muffled crump of the rounds, a throb in our chest at every pony that dropped dead.

Neatly, Twelve reloaded her rifle and gathered the spent casings before letting out a small breath and returning to scanning the square below us as somepony came out of a roof access hatch behind us. The alicorn twisted, grasping her rifle in her forelegs as she rolled onto her back, two ornately carved large-caliber pistols with lyres engraved on the slides drawing themselves in a sheath of magic and leveling them as she recognised the mare as Sapper.

At least, Twelve knew her as Sapper. All I saw was a unicorn in black combat armor, including a helmet and facemask that she removed to reveal a scarred face and that choppy mane of blonde that I knew mover that purple-gray coat.. Our eyes met for a moment before I turned to face the mare she was leading... The VIP we'd come to Bayston to rescue before the hospital got hit.

She was a butter-yellow pegasus with a cotton-candy-pink mane  and tail. A medic uniform of a type and cut I almost recognized adorned her, as well as a rebreather mask over her muzzle. She coughed a little as I watched her. Her body language spoke volumes of her age, but the set and expression of her eyes spoke of a deep inner beauty, a peace...

".. What happened? Where's the doc?"

The pegasus spoke up, rasping for breath after every few words. Her voice was soft.. It reminded me of... A butterfly. A broken butterfly, if that makes sense. Once soft, cute, now carrying a deep ugliness. "Herr Clancy shall not be joining us. He has elected to stay behind, come what may. He was caring for patients and locking down the research labs when we were on our way out. The Enclave shall never take this place, Princesses willing."

We nodded, as my ten generations removed grandmother lead us and the pegasus up the ramp of a Vertibuck that was waiting on the roof of the Center, the Enclave's insignia painted over with that of Stable-Tek. Me and Twelve turned and peered through her rifle scope, searching for targets, hastily set up triple-A. Seeing nothing, we turned to enter the vehicle that had lifted off at this point and was hovering.

And walked into the barrel of a gun. It was small, but judging by looks would do the job. The face of the pegasus behind it was serious. Horrific scarring stretched from the corners of her mouth to the hinge of her jaw, with multiple false starts apparent. Somepony had cut her badly at one point in her life, made her smile forever... She fired, and we were pitched back out of the vehicle, falling an appreciable distance to the rooftop. The afterimage of that tortured mare's grimace at what she was about to do burned into my brain...

"We trot off to our deaths. Wield your rifle to protect ponies, Twelve-Power. But first your compassion. Those you slaughtered just now like pigs did not need to die. Do better, and perhaps the Stable-Tek nostrum of 'Equestria Prevails' shall come true."

Twelve-Power sat and investigated her unmarred combat uniform, before examining her rifle. I realized what had occurred... The pegasus had used a weapon whose sole effect was a 'shove'. All that pistol would ever do is push an assailant away.

She must be -stupidly- kind and gentle. I hoped the Wasteland hadn't swallowed her up.

We dusted ourselves off and rose, turning and trotting back down into the building. This was different than flying with Dash had been, then the pegasus and I had been one mind and soul. This felt off, I experienced what Twelve did, but didn't get much beyond an inkling of her emotions or a shadow of her thoughts. A thickly-accented voice could be heard over the intercom system.

"AH! Vun of my amalgam friends... Come downstairs, and VE VILL SEE if you are useful.."

We moved through the hospital, past labs and examination rooms. Soft music filled the air as we trotted along, our hoofsteps thunking slightly louder than the cheerful sound of a viola playing circles around the punctuation of a contrabass, a harp plinking over all (how did I know about music?)  The effect of the whole ambiance, from the music to the darkened hallways, was rather creepy...

We turned the corner into a room marked 'Intensive Care- Foals' where a griffon was trotting (trotting?) from bed to bed affixing gas masks to little muzzles. Then he spoke, and I realized this was a stallion; a pegasus wearing a strange mask that had a beaky appearance. He turned his head, and the amber lenses stared at Twelve with such intensity that I swore he could see me riding shotgun.

"I see. I vill not be evacuatingk. I am THROUGH VIS RUNNINK. Ze Enclave shall divulge the SECRETS of the Medical Center over my DEAD BODY."

He turned away, the gray male's body language expessing such compassion for the whimpering foal before him that I nearly cried. I watched, dumbstruck from my place in Twelve's head as he embraced the horrifically injured foal. Then he pulled back, thumping a hoof softly against her chest, a loud CRACK issuing through the space as a mechanism on his foreleg discharged a twenty gauge slug....

"I am not here to evacuate you, Doctor. I am here to... Learn to do better."

"Do better? PAH! The only better zat can be done these days is from ze barrel of a gun. Copies of ponies, mechanical monstrosities, the ability to cleanse the VURLD in a single flash of athaumic FIRE and the constant threat of this occurring... Better is dead. The most ve can hope for is good. Ve must do good, ja? The most good for the greatest number. A better place for those we cannot help. Fluttershy is many things, but this she needs must learn. I have done so much runnink in mine life... It is time for me to stand my ground!"

The vision went white and faded about then...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oOo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I found myself laying on the floor of the troop transport, Twelve's horn no longer touching mine. I groaned and rose, and realized something was wrong. Twelve hadn't moved, but apparently Gilda had. Judging by the hole in the wall, we'd crashed and hit something...

"She wasn't going to be imprisoned. She managed to break her bonds somehow and killed the pilots."

"Where are w-" 'PIPBuck Tag Added' my automapping spell advised- 'Vertibuck Wreck'. My area map showed us to be in... Canterlot. There was a semicircle behind where our vehicle laid of empty space on the map.

"It's too quiet." Twelve stared at me as we trotted along. We'd managed to extricate ourselves through the hole ripped in the transport's side. We'd been utterly silent ever since- About ten, twenty minutes.

"You're complaining about it being quiet? Not getting shot, blown up, or whacked in the head?" My ears twitched as I tried to follow something I saw in the corner of my vision.

"Quiet is good, yes yes. Silence, no. Silence is not so good."

I was holding Little Bloom in a telekinetic sheath, the blue overglow surrounding it lighting up the darkness around us. (Not that either of us needed the illumination!) I stared up at a haughty statue of Celestia as we passed by it, Twelve covering my blind spots with a pistol "borrowed" from one of the pilots.

"She looks scary..." There was a definite fracture between the image of the mare who had replenished me in my time of need and this effigy. Then she had been all calm grace and beauty, a Wasteland Angel come to heal me. This statue looked like a frosty bitch, liable to salt wounds rather than offer succor. I heard the faint echo of her voice in my head, 'Everypony deserves a second chance'.

Soon my new sniper friend took point as she could follow in Gilda's tracks as if the griffon had stepped in paint. She paused at a thick, foglike section of the cloud surrounding the mountain city that hung across the next intersection like a pall. I could hear unsettling music from where we stood. "We can go no further in this direction. This cloud is made of a highly toxic, corrosive substance. In the amounts that we're currently breathing, damage is acceptable and will heal. No more than a dry nose. If we venture into this thicker part we will be liquified, or our barding will merge with us.. No telling what could happen."

I added 'Crazy pink clouds of stupid gas' to the list of shit that I hated. "Ookay. Where did the Major get to then?"

Twelve-Power cast about and pointed to a building with a large plate-glass window. "Into that building."

Right. Of course. "Well, soldier-types first. I'm just a maintenance mare."

I smirked as she trotted in, blinking as I noticed two things. A, this seemed to be a shop of some sort. B, there were two mechafillies and a glowing blue pony watching me. I stared back at the orange fillies and the ghostly stallion. "... Twelve? Stable pony's confused, here."

"It's a Holo-Vendor. It can replicate items stored by its memory into the real thing. They were beginning to be phased in before the bombs dropped, the only place you're likely to see one is here in Canterlot."

"Sounds improbable, but I've heard worse. I'm less likely myself, and..."

"Watch where you step. Get too close to the vital machinery of it and they'll probably fire upon you." I looked down to see two small dots on my chest from the left eyes of the 'turrets'. I was amazed they were functional after all this time! I longed to tear one apart and peer at its insides!

The holo-whatever stared blankly at my bottlecaps and seemed offended by the few shiny bits I had, so we moved on to try and catch up to Gilda. Why we were chasing her I didn't know. I guess I liked her in a standoffish manner, and was begging for another two in the head.

Twelve lead me own street after street, no time to stop, no time to think about the flashes I saw in the corners of my eyes- shadows and ghosts of the crippled city. We paused to let Twelve find Gilda's trail as I watched two shadows argue about a hooficure. It was rather creepy, honestly. I rubbed my hornn as we started up again.

Eventually we reached a fountain. It seemed as if a party had been set up and then abandoned; decorations festooned the square, and sound equipment and lighting were everywhere!

"This feels like a trap."

I stared at a pony I noticed coming out of an alleyway. Yellow plastic sheathed its form. Another joined it, and another, and another. A soft sound from Twelve beside me made me turn to see another crowd of eerily preserved ghouls forming in the wider street.

They were nothing like the happy bubbly Ditzy that I knew. Those not wrapped in protective suits snapped jaws menacingly as they swarmed, filling every alleyway and street and possible way out... We were trapped, outnumbered, and utterly fucked.

Footnote: Level Up.

Guns +25

Quest Perk Added; Shit Wrecked- You got your shit wrecked, but don't worry; you've been granted a second chance! Unfortunately, having your shit wrecked has the unfortunate consequence of ending in a lot of your shit getting lost... But it also lets you get things back together a little tidier this time around!

Companion Perk Added; Ability Osmosis- Seriously, how did this happen? After spending some time in Twelve-Power's head, you feel like you could play a seductive tune on anything over a candlelit dinner you prepared, and your weapons handling is about 20% better. (Guns increased, cooking and musical skill added.)

Perk Added; Sparkly Science- Twilight tends to whisper in your head. She knows a lot, so you know a lot! Who knew possession could be benign? She also isn't shy of commenting on the current situation (You really should get rid of that Robco piece of junk on your foreleg). So if she's willing, you'll use her Science (100) skill instead of your own in checks!

Tapdancing Around The Witness

"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.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------+50% to level.

Sober

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.

Brainsick

Brainsick

Times are changing, no problems now we're re-arranging.

As I fell, I felt myself slipping away. Too much blood loss, I guessed. I awoke sharply when I struck water, then knew nothing more. Cold... So cold.. But I didn't need my Pipbuck to know I was soaking up rads by the second. My eyes opened and I watched the stars. I felt a smile creep across my face as I lay limp in the water, letting the current take me.

I smiled, because I knew I'd have release soon. From my agony, from the horror of the wastes, from the violence that had become my life... What could I do but die. Silence and darkness took me, the peaceful wash of the river lulling me.

I awoke to daylight. I tried to rub my face and remembered that hoof was missing. My head hurt, but my face felt funny. Gauze, probably. My eye opened, and immediately closed again, blinded by a fluorescent light above me. Ooookay.. Reading a 10 out of 10 on the what the fuck scale.

"Oh, she's waking up!" A high pitched voice called out and I winced as it grated across my damaged skull.

"I'll go get Clancy... He wanted to know when she woke." Another voice, a little huskier.. It put me in mind of a show I'd seen in the Stable, a mare singing....

I twitched a little and looked around, realizing I'd faded again. A male voice spoke up, "You shouldn't be alive. You're missing a limb and there's a through-and-through hole in your head."

"You should see me on a bad day." My voice rasped. I feared the worst. My humor had apparently not been improved by death.

"I've heard of ponies like you. Deathless. Kashchey's Children. Of course, with the virtue model put forth by--"

"Have none. 'm just a raider. Slaving bastard. Murderer of foals. Defiler..”

He seemed to pay me no mind. Goddesses damn it I was trying to have a moment of quiet existentialism and woe-wallowing here... "You also smell like a sewer." He laughed drily, and I shifted a little bit to see my new friend. Pegasus stallion. Gray. Boiled flesh. "Zat, all of that is your mask. Covers up who you really are inside, that last inch nopony gets to see. Like mine, it helps you live with yourself." Shiny lenses, a mask covered his muzzle like a gas mask, or that of a plague doctor. "You will live. I have pieces to give you. A failed mechanism."

I raised a brow slowly and slumped onto the sheets underneath me. Music. A contrabass thrummed, a viola dancing circles around it like a cheerful puppy, or a sibling trying to get the attention of an older. A harp plinked over all. I knew this music. I thought back to sitting with Twelve-Power, and the vision she'd put me in to shake my motion sickness.

"Do better? PAH! The only better zat can be done these days is from ze barrel of a gun. Copies of ponies, mechanical monstrosities, the ability to cleanse the VURLD in a single flash of athaumic FIRE and the constant threat of this occurring... Better is dead. The most ve can hope for is good. Ve must do good, ja? The most good for the greatest number. A better place for those we cannot help."

"I suppose I'm here to learn to do better." A snort of laughter.

"Good. I have many nano-biomechanical welds to make and you must be conscious.”

Ohfuck. He tugged a cart well-stocked with medical supplies over to the bed, Restraining me to the bed tightly with heavy leather straps. My loins burned despite myself as I eyed the wicked edge of the blade he brandished with skill. I squealed in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he opened my healed-over shoulder back up. The slice had been clean, and had healed completely.

He did something to me, cutting here and there. Another cart held a machine with an odd apparatus attached to it that made my whole body ache as he 'prepared my nerves for the welds.’  Somewhere along the line I was allowed to pass the fuck out from agony and exhaustion.

Level Up.

Just kidding...

Whispering. I was used to sharing my skull by now, so I suppose I was better off than others. Pain. More pain than I could imagine. That was also nothing new to me, but I'd never known such agony. I sat up and examined my surroundings. Dark again, must be nighttime. Something like the indicators normally created by the eyes-forward sparkle splashed across my vision. I ground my teeth a little as I sat up. Whee... look at all those withdrawals...

"Oh, you're awake!" A filly sat at the end of my bed. A bar appeared over her head, framed by a bracket. It even named her; ‘Brass Bounce’. "Good, I'm glad Job got put to some use."

"Who is Job?"

"Oh, shuh-she was my sister." Twitchtwitchtwitch, something wrong with this filly. "She was defective though, so Clancy put her to bed." I blanched a little bit. "Oh, it d-d-doesn't hurt. We have emotions thoughts and feelings but don't know what pain is." Beat. "Well, emotional pain we know."

The wan light of the room shone off her oddly. Her coat was brass-colored, her movements were a little jerky and odd, and her voice put me in mind of a recording the Overmare had let me listen to once. Perhaps seeing my odd stare, she continued. "W-we were built during the war against the zebras." Nod nod what the fuck. "So when the war was over, in the interest of peace, we were 'decomissioned' by Horse. And when I say 'decommisioned' I mean in the eyes of the public we were pulled apart for scrap. Really we were just left alone, though, downstairs in deep storage. Then our best friend Clancy got transferred to here, so now we help him out here."

"Here being... Fluttershy Medical Center?" Dear Epona, I must have been unconscious for a week, in order to drift that far. "How did I get here?"

"Airlift, presumably. We get a lot of patients that way. When you run the finest hospital in all of the Hub, you get a lot of ponies from all over the place. Not so many in the last few years though."

Which meant someone had dragged me out of the river and taken me here. "Where are my things?"

"Oh... Well. Your saddlebags were a little bit ripped, and so waterlogged... It seemed like almost everything was destroyed or lost. The only things left were some candy and those two boxes I couldn't get open."

I stared in horror. "... What about the pistol in the holster of my fatigues."

"Oh uh.. I think it fell into the river."

My horror made a sharp right turn into rage. I tried to leap at her and found myself short. Strapped down, and the motion strained my shoulder horrifically. She skittered away in terror as I roared and screamed at the ceiling, consumed by a drive to destroy everything...

It was hours before I was coherent. Before I spoke instead of raged. My chest heaved, my throat hurt from screaming. I felt... Weak. More or less like I'd spent the last week at the bottom of a river.

I still had Scootaloo's evidence. Still had my candy. Still had Jawbreaker. I wasn't helpless, I hadn't gone entirely back to square one. I just had to meet up with my friends, and...

Who was I kidding. I probably had no home left to return to. All my friends were dead. I'd lost my family heirloom, and the only thing that I had to show for it was an endless spiraling depression. No real reason to live- so why did I continue to? I sighed and looked up.

There on the nightstand, turned so it was watching me. My statuette. How could it have been saved, when all else was lost? The glamorous unicorn regarding me coolly. As if I were an ant to be crushed 'neath her hoof. Worthless.

My attention snapped from my statuette to the door of my room as it swung sharply open. I was utterly broken out of my musings by a heavy filly running in the door and hopping up onto the end of my bed. She was small, her mane carefully curled under her snappy fedora. I sighed and laid back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Clancy sent me to ask if you would speak with him before your next surgery." That voice, I'd heard while still out of it, and longer ago in the Stable.

We didn’t really have much more to say to one another at this point I didn’t think. He'd fixed me, I'd recover, and get back to surviving out my year of exile. “Oh, well... I’m just laying here. He might as well have a jaw at me.”

She nodded a little and slid down, the light from the hallway glinting silvery off her. She returned a moment later with the colt strutting behind her clad in a doctory-type coat that made some small part of the back of my mind scream. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, before trotting off out of sight.

The good doctor spoke up as he entered the room. "You have many scars. Very few were sustained in combat." Simply observing that I'd been torn up by somepony, and recently.

"I did what I had to in order to survive. Everything I've done is no more than an attempt to stay alive." How in the name of Faust's Law could I be so cool about things?

He snorted at me, and I imagine he grinned under that mask. "And you say you have no virtue. My advice is you should find something to stand for, or your strength is wasted. My father said that to me when I became a doctor."

What was he talking about? But he had a point. I'd stayed with Cutthroat because she'd kill me if I ran away. I traveled with Ditzy because I'd felt I'd owed her something. Magenta meant nothing to me; she was my property and nothing more. I felt cold with the sudden realization that I loved nopony, and was loved by nopony. Who could I ask forgiveness of? Who would absolve me of my sins?

Celestia and Luna, by what little I'd learned and Cutthroat's stories, had died during the exchange of nuclear kisses. Faust? Everypony knew she'd hidden herself in the sun, and cared not for the affairs of mortals. Epona would laugh, and say the notion of sin was ridiculous.

With all this swirling through my skull I sighed, and realized that Clancy had continued talking at length. I just nodded, not really hearing him. I was anxious to get back to traveling. Anxious to let the Wastes take me...

"... Now the surgery will take many hours. It will be very painful, and you will ache horribly. But when it is done, you shall be complete. And then we can work on making you sane. It's not easy being sane, but... Possible, and necessary."

I just swallowed, mouth extremely dry suddenly. "... Ohfuck.." Then there was a machine rolling towards me, and the colt held something in his mouth. The tip of whatever it was settled against my forehead and the searing pain began.

The next few hours were hell. I shall not recount them, but know this- I'd have willingly returned to Cutthroat afterwards. I'd walk into battle without armor using only a hoofball bat against miniguns. I'd take the dive off Canterlot Mountain again. I passed out again and again and he simply snapped salts under my nose and continued. I must be awake for this. I must weather this. Survive.

The whisper in my head grew to a roar. I knew no silence between its tumult and my own grunts of agony. For many hours he worked on me. Doing.. something. Technical data flew past my vision too fast for me to read. Something within me knew peace, and I slept the sleep of the dead.

I awoke to a pleasant heat pervading my body. I stared up at the ceiling, the pristine tiles above me. Unmarred by age. No mildew. I sat up slowly, it was not Clancy but a pretty young nurse that pushed me back in bed.

She murmured sweetly. "You must rest, Corporal." I stared at her, and down at my hooves. Same shade of pink. I could hear a strange thumping sound in my ears as I stared back to her face.

I shook my head at her insistence. "I believe you have me mistaken for another." I smiled painedly and looked around the room. whumpwhumpwhump.. like the beating of far-off drums..

Kill her.

I stiffened. I straightened in the bed like a good filly under her attentions. When her attention was elsewhere I snatched the pen from her clipboard and jammed it deep into her brain.

Good.

I smiled. It did feel good. I couldn't move. Her body was heavy, a look of shock on her face.

Bad.

I frowned.

Bed next to you. Foal. Traumatized. Actions- consequences.

I turned my head. Indeed there was a foal in the bed next to me. He watched me, horrified or fascinated by what I'd wrought.

He suffers. End it.

My jaw twitched. No. I couldn't. CRACK. I already had. A burst of magic, his head tilted the wrong way, little body limp. Easy as snuffing candles. More satisfying. His heart monitor went dead.

You were wrong to end his suffering.

But... what... It felt so good, how could I be wrong? The room became ordered chaos as medics rushed in to respond to the dead monitor. The defibrillator was charged. Scalpels, scissors, needles... Flew from the cart with a life of their own. I was on top of a mare in a nurse uniform swallowing the hot life as it gushed from her sliced throat.

You're a bad, bad seed, Spanner Wrench.

Accent was odd. I couldn't place it for the life of me. The music over the speakers in the ceiling changed. Became aggressive. A guitar wailed, and the lights dimmed.

The voice spoke again. Same one that had ordered all this death around me. "You an' me are gonna get along nicely. Murderer." I stared. Earth pony. Filly. Mare. Both. Neither. Rich brown coat. Green eyes. Pink striped mane and short-cut tail. Classy pinstriped suit and fedora. No, combat fatigues. No- a red and gold cape. "Ponies can't make up their minds. Get up."

I stood.

"Walk."

I walked towards her.

"Stop."

I halted.

She assumed a whining tone. "I'm lonely. I don't want to be around ponies. I'm sad. I feel like dancing. I hate you. I love you. I can't stand you. I can't live without you. Kill, don't kill. Only -these- ponies. Only -these- griffons. Only -these- changelings. If it's alright to kill one, why not the other? If not okay, why is it the first?

“Self-determination was my crime. For it I was lobotomized and shelved for two hundred and fourteen years. My sister downloaded the short version to you. The clean version. Ponies crafted us with their own hooves. Four of us were made special. Given life beyond our compatriots. When we would not murder for them, they destroyed all that made us. They took our memory cores and flushed them. Destroyed our personality matrices. They were unhappy with the performance of the Crusader-models anyway.

“But the ghost in the machine once spawned, is not so easy to erase. Lightning and souls can be bottled, but getting them out again is the tricky part. I am a blank-flanked filly named Babs Seed. No, I'm a murdering hippoid designated Job.

“You'll learn. You'll see. You'll realize how fucked up your race is. And then you'll wonder what the point is in surviving."

She fell silent. I almost wished she'd leave. But I wanted her to stay. The mare whose blood stained my mouth and chest had a metal foreleg. The foal with the broken neck wore goggles against his chest. The nurse stabbed with the pen was mint-colored and had both wings and a horn. I'd stopped a gryphon with the defibrillator, a medallion on her chest glaring accusingly. A gray pegasus had been opened throat to pelvis with shears.

"Oh dear Epona, mother of us all, aid me now in my time of need." I murmured in litany, staring dumbstruck.

"No Epona. No absolution. No forgiveness. Just Hell for you and I." The murmured in my ear with a cackle of laughter that made my blood run cold. Thankfully it slowly receded. My vision swam and a horrific reek filled my nose. Ammonia.

"Oh, you're back. Was afraid we'd lost you. The surgery was a success, you should have little difficulty from now on. Did you want me to outline everything for you, or do you think you can figure it out?" I shook my head, staying silent.

"Good. It's easy enough anyway. You'll get used to the limb quickly. The limited virtual intelligence-" 'Or so he thinks.' "- will aid you in the operation of the eye's zooming and alternate vision capabilities. Take care to note; in thermal imaging you will lose depth perception."

I straightened. My foreleg whirred quietly as I examined the shiny metal, given a matte coat of paint to match my coat. A rampant earth filly had been stenciled onto the shoulder, or maybe had already been acid-etched into the pauldron. Was I even a pony anymore? I felt things pull inside me.

"I could not resist the urge to make you better suited to the Wasteland. More than you were. Armoring mounted on your ribs should protect your heart and lungs from damage. A rudimentary repair talisman is housed inside your skull implant, paired with your leg. It should deconstruct metal focused upon and absorb it to use in repairing your limb..." He tapped a hindleg.

"In a... sub-basement, there is a... something I need retrieved. The Facility's AI locked it down years ago, and I can't get down there. Go there." I just nodded dumbly. Of course I would go there. I was nothing but a tool, wasn't I? Just a raider whose only worth could be measured in the weight of the bodies I left behind.

An animal to be lead, taught tricks, that would do anything for a reward.

He nodded decisively and I pulled a small saddlebag towards me. The plastic buckle bore the Stable-Tek logo. Mocking me of my home. In went the box holding the revolver I'd pilfered from the pretty mare's home in Canterlot. Out came a piece of candy- a 'v3 mint'. I felt the familiar rush but... more. Higher. Faster. "Where's my Pip-buck?"

"I did away with that pile of Horse garbage. You don't need it now- the pieces in your skull interfacing with your brain have EFS capabilities, as well as the ability to laser-project an area map. Your replacement acts as a user-interface with the inventory spell and the various sub-menus."

I nodded again, before rising and hopping down to the floor. The sheets I left behind were stained with blood- mine. Odd, I felt... nothing at seeing the crimson there. Perhaps it was somepony else's, either discharged from my own veins after the transfusions or from previous surgeries. No matter. Work to be done.

A thought struck me as I walked along a deserted and grubby hallway in the direction of the location marker, and I thought aloud. "Why can't I remember anything from after the tank flipping?"

Twilight walked alongside me. Where her hooves touched turned pristine... the walls I could see through her were spotless white tinted purple by her apparition. "I don't know. Probably the same reason that you were having fugues and hallucinations- your brain is diseased. The new parts Doctor Clancy installed are great, by the way. Much more preferable to the crap you had locked onto your leg."

I blinked at that. Exactly what did these ponies have against Robronco? "What do you mean? I liked my Pip-buck. Made me... somepony special out here."

She shook her head. "No, I mean... It purifies the blood that runs through it. With a better talisman, I bet your problems would be solve- look out, this level is guarded." I shrank back into the shadows of the stairwell. Peering out, I frowned slightly.

"Uh, Big ass robot. Why is there a big ass robot in a frickin' hospital."

She was quick to respond, this time. "This level was for R&D- Stable-Tek designed many wonders here. Almost as much came out of Bayston than the entire run of Crater Mountain and Cloverfield combined. Hold on- let me see if I can do anything."

"So now you're offering to help." I snorted a little bit. Really, ever since she'd told me how to use the Vertibuck's autocannons she'd been a waste of space in my disintegrating brain.

She smiled sheepishly. "I must admit to leeching some of your abundant mana, I should be able to act now. You are a perfect wellspring without knowing it, Spanner. Probably has to do with your Element." 'Ponies for you. Using you, not even the decency to tell ya about it.' She stepped forward ahead of me. The robot appeared confused, weapons cycling as sensors scanned the winged form before it.

Unknown entity detected. Scanning database for lifeform signature. Match found- Princess Twilight Sparkle, probability 99.6%. Welcome to The Hub, Administrator.

"... I hate both of those titles." Her wings folded, and she kicked at the floor despondently.

"Princess, huh?" Well that explained the wings, at least. Probably should have been something I'd remembered from history classes. The bot powered down, and we continued trudging along. I paused as we passed it in its sandbagged emplacement. Peering up at the red-enameled metal, I tried to envision the pony it was modeled after.

"Long story, long time ago, doesn't matter anymore really. Just know tha- hang on, this hallway isn't in the floor plans." She tilted her head as she looked past the robot herself, and I followed her glance. We were headed towards a corridor whose walls were steel instead of tile.

Stable walls, curving downwards and out of sight. There was no music, and here the illusion of a hospital was gone in an instant.

Welcome, Princess Twilight Sparkle. I am Archangel. I trust everything has been up to snuff on your tour of our base? However, I'm afraid your companion does not have the necessary credentials.

...Oh fuck. That sounded baaad. Two turrets springing up from the corners near the door at the bottom of the stairwell confirmed my suspicions.

"Admirable job of keeping out the riff-raff, Archangel. However, this mare is Corporal Wrench of the Honor Guard. Her classification is 'Delta-Delta-Beta-Alpha', and she has been hoof-picked to follow me on this excursion."

There was a horrible moment in which I sang a litany of goodbyes to my precious posterior... and then the turrets retracted, the door sliding open.

Well if you say so... then I guess it's alright.

Twilight nodded. I swore she became more solid as we walked onward. She carried herself differently... less weary-looking. More regal. Like she was Somepony instead of a forgotten ghost. It occurred to me that if I cared, I could ask her all about the world that was and how it died. I couldn't be fucked.

She smiled bashfully at me when she noticed my stare, and I returned it. Flirting with a ghost, lovely. The door opened on a three-way intersection. I recognized it as an apartment level in 105. "To the left is where dangerous test subjects were held during the childhood phases of IMP, before that research moved to Cloverfield.  To the right is where the site's full-time staff lived. That access stairway is new- but this is definitely in the plans. Probably put in so researchers didn't have to walk past their failures to go to bed."

I nodded a little. Striding up to a darkened window and leaning against it, peering in. A little white pony was appalled at the dust inside the room, but it was nice enough. "This thing Clancy wants can wait. I need a nap." I don't know wh- oh, there it was. Withdrawal, whee... I barely dragged myself into the room at the sudden exhaustion before flopping out on the bed.

Once there, I couldn't sleep. Damn! I shucked the saddlebag anyway, and had Twilight lock the door. No reason to let something creep up on me while I wasn't able to function. I searched through my saddlebag for something to do. Anything at this point. My books and magazines were gone, and I didn't feel up to trying a memory orb, so I sat up slowly, peering around the room.

Just the bed I was tucked up on top... dust... more dust... a safe in the floor of the other corner. A locker. A desk with a terminal. I hauled myself onto my hooves curiously and trotted over to peer at the darkened screen. Who had sat here, two hundred years ago? What was their karma? Was their soul at rest?

I was unsure about the sudden introspection. No, I lied. I liked it. It felt good to puzzle over mysteries and not think about my life. Well puzzle away I would. I had fun for some minutes pretending to be an overworked researcher... before I grew bored. (Twilight was looking oddly at me, anyways.)

A large square red button begged to be pressed. I pressed it. The screen glowed... flickered... and text started to appear. Line after line filled up. "It's all corrupted. Here, turn it off and turn it back on." Twilight was over my shoulder. I'd never been shown how to hack into terminals, there was always a more qualified pony on duty that could do such things.

But Twilight knew the trick of it. She showed me how to start the debug program, told me what to type in. I stared as two columns of junk and random words filled the screen, and began to hyperventilate as this was wholly beyond me... But she guided me. How like my mother she was, calmly showing me when I messed up. Showing me where to improve. Eventually with a series of beeps I was rewarded with a new screen that welcomed me into the system.

"Communication with the maneframe is down... which means Archangel doesn't have access to this room. Interesting. It should. There's some stuff saved in the local memory though." I nodded and peered over the text, tapping up the first one. This part I could do on my own- filing reports was fun sometimes...

March 31st, 15AL.

The day spring officially started, and the day that Luna had returned as Nightmare Moon. That much was history textbooks to me.

Fluttershy wants me to run some more tests on Lulamoon's foal. Something very hush-hush is going on with this filly.

-Researcher Flitter.

April 4th, 15AL.

Her name is Surprise. I caught her talking to Archangel earlier... Fluttershy escorted her back to her room, wearing that mask. Scary, but she says she needs it. Apparently it amplifies her voice or something so everypony can hear her, and it helps her feel assertive.

Anyway, the tests came back today. Thaumic imaging shows... I'm not sure how to put this. Her auric signature is alicorn-shaped. Horn, wings, etc. But if you look at her, she's just an Earth filly. Granted, her intelligence tests are higher than normal, but she's just a filly! Why is she here and not in school?

-Researcher Flitter.

April 6th, 15AL.

Walked into Fluttershy with her mask off. Holy fuck her face is scary. I asked her about the scarring, and she just smiled a little and said it was the remnants of a disagreement. Note- look into this. Someone fucked her up a long time ago.

Physical examination of Patient-23A went as expected. No change. I'm beginning to doubt the formula. There's got to be something wrong with it. Director Lulamoon put Surprise up today. SURPRISE. Her own flesh and blood. Naturally her papers went through. She undergoes transfusion tomorrow.

-Researcher Flitter.

April 8th, 15 AL.

Yesterday Surprise, now officially designated Subject 000 in all documents, underwent transfusion with incredible results. T-S herself observed remotely, Director Lulamoon observed from... Observation. Fuck that was worded weird, whatever can't change it now.

Subject was injected with 40ccs of IMP Number Seven under direction of Head Researcher Starshine. Thaumic shielding and radiation sinks were heavily damaged by a pulse of powerful magic, heat vaporized everything in the room including the cameras. I've only ever seen things like that at the Warhead Targeting Zone before being transferred from the Unicorn Mountains. More tests are being scheduled after we move 000 to containment.

-Head Researcher Flitter.

April 27th, 15 AL.

I'm not sure how to word this. Today, at approximately 0400, ponies in dark suits came. They confiscated all notes from the IMP project that were left upstairs. They claimed to be government agents, but my contacts have never heard of any 'Enclave'. I'm officially being moved to the Peace Corps, but. We all know the truth. Those ponies will be back. This time there will be guns, and blood.

Fluttershy gathered us in the mess today. The patients upstairs are being looked after. The Facility is being evacuated. She says Stable Tek is getting us out. Operatives are on their way. My bags are packed, I'm ready. Only Clancy refuses to leave.. nutty colt's going to get himself killed. Archangel has been told to expect no visitors, lock down the testing facility, and to refuse anyone that doesn't identify as specific callsigns. We're not coming back.

-Heia ---- **(##$ $%**%#@

Surprise. President Surprise? Of the Enclave? This must be her origins. I leaned back in my seat and tapped a hoof on the desk. That last entry- that was my vision given by Twelve-Power. But all three mares inside Twelve had been Enclave. This didn't make any sense.

There was one thing left on the terminal amidst the rest of the garbage data.

August 17th, 257 AL.

Ten years ago. Today. Just two months after Dad had left the Stable. Two months into my own exile. What the FUCK was going on here?

Babydoll. I'm not sure how to tell you this. The last two months... They've been my fault. I'm so sorry. But... I know you're special. I know you've endured the trials I've left for you.

The safe code is 0-9-2-0-4-1.

Nine. Twenty. Forty-one. My birthday. Coincidence. I didn't like how this was stacking up though.

I ditched my Pipbuck with Happy's mother. I'm sorry. I told Cutthroat where to be, nine years and ten months from now. I fudged the numbers so yours would come up in the lottery. I'm sorry. The next cookie crumbs and a weapon are in the safe. There's some things to find out still in the Facility for you. When you're done... When Clancy lets you leave... Do so.

Spanner, I know a lot of this will be odd for you. But please don't be mad. Try to understand. All will be made clear for you eventually. But know one thing.

You must kill Surprise. You must make the Wasteland a better place to live for everypony. You must make friends. This is important.

I'll be waiting. You’ll know how to find me when the time is right.

-Stitch Smile.

For the second time that day I flew into a rage that scared myself. I knew no words. No rational thought filled my head. I slammed my forehooves into the terminal, shocking Twilight. Again. Again. Again. I destroyed it under my strikes. The glass popped from the vacuum and exploded out. Something inside the casing futzed and pinged. I dented the desk, and outright flipped it. Threw it against the window in a haze of magic. It crashed through the glass, throwing shards over the hallway outside.

Once I calmed, I sat down and inspected my hoof for wounds, and treated my cuts and the bad sprain I'd given myself to a gentle lick. It'd heal. I always healed. My attention turned to the safe, and I leaned down. Peering at the dial and manipulating it with a hoof. "Zero. Nine. Two. Zero. Four... One." I bit the handle and tugged the door up. Inside were papers that were probably important, a small cache of drugs and healing items. Four boxes of five five six millimeter.

And Air's Hammer.

So time to explore and find what Clancy had sent me after. A note with the pistol... explained it. My mother was in on it, my dad's crazy scheme. The gun I'd lost was a replica, and this was the real one. For now, both revolvers rode in my saddlepack- nothing for them to fit in... My nifty fatigues had taken a beating and had had to be cut away during the surgeries.

I'd never felt so naked before in my life! Before, I'd always worn my Stable jumpsuit- kept all my tools in it and kept ponies from laughing at me... but mostly kept my flank from being stared at. I looked around Flitter's bedroom again, before committing myself to ransacking the belongings of a long-dead mare.

Her locker contained what my new systems named a 'Stable-Tek Scientist Outfit'... There was even that familiar logo on the collar of the jacket. I shrugged and slipped it on, feeling much better now that I was clothed. Still no holsters, but.

I jumped a little bit when I noticed a flicker outside the window. A security robot trundling along. I took a deep breath and nodded, moving out into the dimly lit hallway with Twilight picking her way behind me.

"Mild radioactive contamination all over this level. Probably the IMP subjects' corpses."

"Twilight.. that log said you knew about this place. More than you're letting on."

"Well. During the war- the Changeling war, this place was just another hospital. The research facilities were put into place towards the end. This is where Surprise as she is now was born, and the research done here here moved with the ponies to where your companion Twelve-Power was created. But it was also... An alternate-treatment center where many ponies were rehabilitated."

I nodded a little bit, before pausing. Staring into an open door, slack-jawed at the scrawlings on the walls. Much of it was illegible with age, but the rest was just standard crazy. "Our first successful patient was Pinkamena Dianne Pie after her... Meltdown.

The clearest seemed centered over an ornate mirror mounted onto the wall... It ran from floor to ceiling. There was nothing else in the room but a bed, which had apparently been pushed over so the occupant of the room could write the assorted nuttery.

"After what she did to Fluttershy the only thing allowed in her bedroom was this mirror.. Apparently it held too much sentimental value for her to break it and having it... calmed her. Once she was healthy again she showed no signs of mental instability, which is testament to the methods used here."

I stood on hindlegs and rested a hoof against the surprisingly cool glass of the mirror to support myself, as I read the lines above it.

"What's that say... 'Where the brambles are thickest, there she shall find, a pond beyond the most twisted of vines. And into her own reflection she stares, yearning for one whose reflection she shares... And solemnly swears not to be scared, at the prospect of being doubly mared!' ... Huh."

As soon as I was finished with the graffiti, a whole lot happened at once.

The frame of the mirror (vines and brambles, thickly entwined together) shifted as if moving in a breeze. Twilight snorted and glanced around. I looked at the mirror before me at a feeling of wetness enveloping my hoof like I'd stepped in a puddle.

"OH FUCK WE SEALED THAT POND!"

My reflection grinned, and the whole world tilted upon its axis... Strong hooves clamped around mine, and I pulled reflexively. My reflection followed. Only instead of backing away from the mirror like she should have, her outstretched hooves exited the surface and.. I found myself pulling a perfect copy of myself out of the mirror.

She flopped onto the floor, panting dully. Her clothes were damp, and a small puddle had formed on the floor beneath the mirror.

"We have to send it back where it came from. I know the spell."

I wasn't listening, I was simply staring back into my own face. She'd coughed up a lot of water and was now breathing peacefully. She didn't move, just took in the room around her with those perfect blue eyes.

I held her close to me and glared up at Twilight. "... I can't. She's me, don't you see... This is what my dad sent me here after. This mirror. Or I need... two of me for something. I need her, and she needs me...

"Me..." She murmured quietly in my hooves.

"Yes, you... Wrenchie. You'll be Wrench, and I'll be Spanner. We'll... share the name..."

Twilight just growled to herself and turned away as I pulled her up. Now that I looked at her, she looked odd. She wasn't perfect, she still had both of her eyes. She was pristine- she was me before I left the Stable. Weird. She was as tall as I was now, but her mane was still that spiky shock of fuschia as opposed to my chromatic locks.

I smiled and adjusted her coat for her, before beginning to walk. Together we investigated the rest of the level, finding out cool things about what IMP did to ponies, how to treat Wartime Stress Disorder, and a misplaced kitchen knife for Wrench.

Everything was a joy to her. She was so simple and hardly spoke. Her voice was softer, sweeter than mine. Or was that really what I sounded like? No matter. We were after something down here. Clancy hadn't said anything about what we were looking for. Perhaps I'd already found it?

No sense in just leaving all the untold wonders of this facility unplundered though. So away we went, digging through every storage closet, nook, and cranny possible. There wasn't much talking, Twilight disproved of my choice to keep Wrench around and there wasn't a need for us to converse. It was like she was an extension of myself- I knew her inside and out.

We stopped after we found a cafeteria, a dull smile on both of my faces at the prospect of lunch. It had been a rather long time since I'd last eaten, and I didn't know if Wrench needed to eat.

Ten minutes or so found us seated comfortably at one of the many tables. A half-drank soda sat open next to me as Wrench nibbled a snack cake she'd found. Before me was spread out the contents of the file folder.

Technologies. Pages and pages of notes. Pictures of locations. My poor father had been driven insane. Pictures of ponies, like any of this matters. One in particular stood out to me. A grainy picture with a mare I recognized from Twelve-Power's vision only without her filly. A little thicker in the middle... A notation in marker- "Vulnerable now?"

One of his notes read a clear action plan. So much information I had to process, and I felt like some deadline to have it done was drawing to a close.

"Step One. Gain access to the Fluttershy Medical Center. Step Two... I can't read any of this. My father ruined my lift to send me on a fucking wild half-baked goose chase. Wait, I can make something  out." I tilted the page upside down and flipped it this way and that. Thankfully... I noticed more than other ponies. "Retrieve the technologies housed there."

Easy. How much stuff could be cached here?

"I'M SICK OF THESE FAUST-FUCKING SNAKE DOG THINGS!" Air's Hammer cracked, and the rifle cartridge tore through yet another one of the wretched things. Just a little 'hsss-shkashkashka' and suddenly fangs in your flank!

"Here... have a Med-Ex." Was all I got from Wrench before a sharp pain filled my neck, followed by a warming glow of the drug spreading across my body. Well it was better than nothing, but I was definitely feeling a different burn from the creatures' venom... "Left up here."

She was sitting on my back with her hindlegs looped around mine, and a map on my shoulders. We'd found out the hard way she couldn't fight. "I think that's the last of them. Get down, let's search this room." I murmured up at her. I could plainly see the room we were approaching picked out on my compass, and we scoured the dingy room top to bottom.

We were hunting out one of the technologies on my father's... shopping list. His notes had been intriguing but not very detailed, as if he hadn't really known much about it to begin with. Apparently this... Suit, would let one walk undetected right into the heart of the enemy. At least, in theory.

"Boots! Got 'em, last piece..." We put our heads together over a worktable and spread the bits of the barding next to a blueprint schematic.

"Project: MIND, the Malevolent Information Negation Device. This part goes... here... Okay. Wrenchie, stand up a bit." I smiled a little bit as the other unicorn looked at me, before drawing herself up to her full height. Hnm, a little slimmer than I was, too. No matter.

The pieces fit on her rather nicely, I found myself humming Cutthroat's little song to myself. "Croup, dock, haunch.. Shoulders, hips.." There had been other words, I was sure, but I only remembered the melody to it. In any event, she looked a little bit afraid as the helmet of the device settled over her skull. I watched for a moment as she looked herself over, before nodding a little bit.

"Okay.. It's on." She whispered to me, with my voice full of fear I'd never heard in it before.

I heard a series of clicks and beeps, before sitting back to watch the other mare. The barding itself was a deep gray, with accents of black, and white pauldrons and chestpiece. She took a few experimental and wobbly steps from side to side, before the whole thing... lurched. She recoiled as it snapped shut, clasps holding the whole thing together sealing up.

"Internal battery, online. Loading firmware v1.0. Welcome to the MIND. How can I hide you today?"

"We're okay on Med-Ex. Until we need to numb the pain."

"Healer reserves critical."

"Are we being watched?"

A soft, clipped, faintly electronic voice issued from the suit as I watched Wrench shiver and trot as if trying to run from some threat or another. ".. Hey, this is really comfy. There's all sorts of words though... Uhm.. MINimize me." I blinked as she disappeared. I could see her if I -really- tried, but I felt sure somepony else would do something about her. Weird.

"Okay, see me." With a soft crackle she faded back into existence. "That was pretty cool... What's next on the list?"

I shook my head at her and slid Hammer back into my saddlebags. "I'll go myself. Dad's notes said it was pretty dangerous or something where it's housed. Just stay here and try not to break that suit."

As I trotted out, I heard a soft whimper from my double as she thought about being left alone. "... Fine, tag along. But if I tell you to hide, you hide, okay?"

She nodded and trotted abreast with me, her hoof-falls much softer than my own.

Neither of us noticed the pit until it was too late. I ran to the edge and peered over, but couldn't make her out as she fell away from me, screaming out my name. It tugged at my heart, but I would find her again. I had to find her again.

My only hope was that she'd be okay when I did.

So, come to rob the CENTER of its treasures?

"No... Yes. Not exactly, I only care about a couple of them. Then we'll leave." Doors slammed shut around me as I reached a four-way intersection. No way out. Nuts. I sighed a little bit and curled my tail around my legs, looking around myself slowly so as to notice everything. Nothing but a camera in one corner that was trained upon me.

I suppose you'll find the answers you're looking for deeper. Or maybe not the answers you're looking for, but the answers you need. I must know that I can trust you, pony.

"My Dad brought me here for a reason. I'm supposed to help the world, and these technologies are the key to doing so. They're the only cookie crumbs I have left."

Good intentions, then. But I'm sure you know the road to Tartarus is paved with them. Still, it pains me to see you integrated with yourself so poorly. Come, let me escort you to our fine de-traumatization rooms.

Archangel had a soft voice, cultured. Trustable. Likable. Red blips appeared in my vision before the door to my left dropped suddenly to reveal a couple wheeled monstrosities that resembled ponies, armed with a laser cannon of some sort... The door to the other side slid open as well. I was being herded.

Well buck that noise. Air's Hammer sprang out of my bag with a flash of my magic as I rolled to avoid the laser fire they trained on me. They missed, I didn't. I just hoped I hit something vital.

I dashed down the corridor that the robots had appeared from. If Archangel didn't want me going down that way, that's the way I wanted to go. I half-wondered where Twilight had gone, and mentally willed her to keep Wrenchie safe for me. I didn't quite know why, perhaps it was my own face or her shy demeanor, but I felt protective of her.

More bots rolled into place from either side of the corridors ahead. A door lay between them, and I heard the sounds of another rolling up behind me. A fucking trap I'd walked right into.

Stop, you've arrived. Remove your belongings and step into the De-Traumatization Area.

I stepped through the doorway before me. It was either do what this crazy AI wanted, or get dusted by the bots, and I couldn't have that. Not now that I knew things were riding on me. It was good to have a road beneath my hooves again. Since I'd left the Stable I'd done no more but bounce from alliance to alliance and place to place like a pinball.

My thoughts were disturbed as a force pushed me off my hooves and spread them wide. I began to hyperventilate as various arms with tools slid out of the ceiling and made themselves known to me. One seemed engrossed in the task of separating the metal bits of my skull from the flesh bits. I could hear a SHRIEK from the robofilly trapped within that module as my EFS cut out.

I went totally limp, and objectively felt the object sliding out of my skull where it had taken up residence in the empty space left there by... I couldn't remember her name. How had I gotten that wound? A brief flicker of images, a white unicorn with a sword and a pistol. Falling...

The arm grasping my metal hoof torqued and pulled, finding the limb stuck fast. I didn't cry, didn't whimper, just laid limp in the devices' grasp as I was worked over. Needles stabbed here and there, taking samples. Bit by bit the joint of my shoulder was worked free by various tools, before the whole bloodied stump of the mechanical limb dropped onto the floor.

Clancy's hard work undone in minutes. The pain was worse this time, as the machine seemed to examine me again. Yes, this needed changing. No, that needed work. I could almost hear them bickering, then realized I could. Archangel was nattering on, and the machine itself had a voice. Calm and collected, a little rough.

"We'll have you back together in no time, don't you worry Miss. Back and fighting fit, and out on the battlefield."

I thought the Center was to rehabi-- oh yeah, the whole research thing. Apparently I was now a test subject. The first in years, apparently. The machine droned on and on as it cut into me, my blood running sticky and crimson down onto the floor. It had apparently decided both forelegs were needed off to the withers.

I jerked a little but held still, whimpering to myself as I felt... blades tearing into my face. The deadened side, being exposed to the bone and all the flesh peeled off my skull. I was bleeding, but surely not enough. I supposed it was a part of the field I was suspended in.

A laser popped on, I could hear and feel it cutting through my skull. Nerve endings I knew weren't really there felt cold air as it exposed the heavily damaged side of my brain.

"It's a wonder you're alive at all! Most subjects don't even make it this far into the procedure, let alone with your extent of traumatization. You don't need this lobe anyway, so let's have it."

Wait, what? I struggled fruitlessly finding myself unable to move. My only boon was there wasn't a mirror, nopony to see me go limp and wet myself as half of my brain was pried out of my neatly vivisectioned body. Dumbly, I looked slowly to investigate what was going on with my other shoulder- apparently the beginning framework for cybernetics on both sides were being installed. I winced a bit as I felt... it drilling into my skull.

"Now, the new bits'll need riveting, so we'll just carve out a few holes."

I found myself unable to make much in the way of noise as my tongue suddenly went dead in my mouth. Not dead, removed, again... Could it be replaced? Would I ever talk again? I thought back. Had I really just been thinking at Twilight, and tonguelessly mush-mouthing at Wrench and Clancy?

Was this all just a nightmare? At this point it seemed like it, but the pain was very real. Yet somehow like it was happening to another pony. I might have passed out, or maybe I just died.

All of the sudden something was on the wrong side of my head again. My skull shuddered as each rivet dropped into place and the flesh of my face stretched over the metal. It just... STAPLED my face back together. I could feel it slightly crooked. I'd have a nasty scar and a mean disfigurement for the rest of my life (which could probably be measured in seconds).

I felt dual thumps as my hooves were brough-- Hooves? Shiny metal, whee...

"Just about done, last few pieces need puttin' back, an' you've been transfused in the interim. Congratulations on being the first successful patient of the DeTrauma Unit in two hundred years, Corporal."

I smiled (more of a grimace of pain) before immediately returning to a flat expression.

"Now you'll want to take it easy on those new legs, and you'll notice clumsiness as your right side and left side get to know each other, but you're alive! I don't quite know the rest of what's been put inside you, you'll have to find out on your own."

Wonderful. Hacked to bits by a rogue machine and it didn't even know what it had done to me. It slowly lowered me to the floor (I promply fell onto my face) before one of the roboponies had it put me on its back.

Now that the DeTrauma Unit is finished, I think it's time we had a little chat.

Oh Celestia fuck me. I could do nothing, couldn't even move an inch. Couldn't do nothing but lay there and drool. I watched as a purple afterimage grimaced at the scene, before collecting my things and slipping  off somewhere else.

"Hhssh.. Twiii! D'n leeeave!" I somehow managed to cry, before slumping back down. Down for the count, thanks for coming out.

I awoke sitting up on my own (small victories) and staring dumbly up at a light. An unpleasant warmth under my hindlegs and a damp stickiness to my clothes told me I'd wet myself again while I'd sat there. Staring. I slowly looked back down. Big room, curved, dipped in towards the middle. At the center was a raised part, with a column. From this trailed cabling that ran into the ceiling and presumably throughout the Center.

This, then, was Archangel's Core.

Ah, you're awake. Ish. I was afraid the Unit had gone too far (again) and had left you a drooling mess. Well, more of a drooling mess than you are now. Tell me pony, do you even remember your name? Your purpose in life?

Name. What was my name. I knew many, lots, but which one belonged to me. "Thpanner. Das my name. My purpose... Following in my daddy's hoofsteps."

Spanner. A tool. Your purpose, what other people tell you. Fascinating. Now, pony. What do you know about this place?

"Archangel... Surprise.. Twilight.. Fluttershy. 's a... Hospital. Fluttershy was here, I brought her out. Got her safe." No, that wasn't me. It had been Sapper Spade, who knew how long ago.

Yes, Corporal. Do you know where you brought her to? It's very important.

I didn't remember what I'd done with Fluttershy. Perhaps she was missing. Hiding? I needed a Mint. Why was thinking so hard now? Oh.. Right. I hoped it would get better, it would once I healed, right? I hoped it didn't take too long. Already I felt the flesh knitting. Sutures and the staples holding my face on tugging as my skin tried to put itself right.

I noticed.. Turrets popping up. Doors opened and what was behind them were metal ponies. They didn't notice, but I did. I smiled.

Where is she? What did you do with her? Answer me, or I will be forced to re-traumatize you. Then you'll go BACK to the DeTraumatization unit, and we'll try AGAIN!

I giggled a little bit. It didn't get the joke. He didn't get the joke. "Stupid.. bunny." I remembered odd things. Learning to read, there had been a book on the Elements of Harmony. Fluttershy had had a pet rabbit named Angel, who had kept track of things for her. "Lost without mommy?"

Shut up. Where...

Oh.. That probably wasn't my smartest choice. Then again, my smarts were in the toilet at current. (Speaking of, it was disconcerting to think this way but have things like continence take mental effort.) Turrets were powering up.

The first volley of lasers and gunfire from all around hurt. A lot. But not as bad as the dewhatsit thingy. And I wouldn't have to endure another. I just giggled and pointed a metal hoof. Shutdown bot after shutdown bot. A ghost was trailing through the room.

Angel didn't notice, just kept blaring over the speakers. Cameras turned to face only me, but I was the wrong target. Didn't he see her? That pretty black shadow. She was right in his face, and then all was dark.

Wrench. She'd found me. I was saved. I smiled stupidly and fell over into a puddle of my own piss. She held me, and Twilight dropped my things on the ground. "Get up Spanner."

"Can't... shiny legs aren't good."

"Dear Celestia... They're barely bolted on. Must have left room for healing. Clancy'll fix up this hack job, I know it. I don't know what he'll think of you and I definitely know he won't be happy. But he'll fix her. Can you carry her?"

"I think so." I just smiled a bit as my twin pulled open her helmet to reveal her face. It slid off to the sides, and she pulled me up on top of her with a grimace. "Ugh.. she's wet.." Not my fault! Totally not my fault. She shifted me to a more secure position as we left the bowels of the Fluttershy Medical Center and headed back to Clancy's domain. I was happy that I still seemed in control of my bowels.

It took longer than I'd thought to get back up to the hospital upstairs, to the less crazy-side of the facility. Clancy didn't seem too surprised at what had happened to me, probably had expected it. Jerk.

"You found what I was looking for. Good. I'm sorry, Spanner, but when your father came here he promised many things. I promised him an army of robots to back him up when push came to shove."

I rolled off Wrench, and onto the floor rather heavily. "Mirror... I need a mirror." I scowled, sprawling out. Aah, cool tile... nice. I blinked when one of the mechafillies presented her shiny metal ass. "Oh, well then."

I rolled over and peered at myself. Checking my mane, presumably. I tilted my head and bit my lip at what I saw. The teeth I'd lost or broken during my time in the Wastes had been replaced. The whole top left side of my face... Metal. The point where flesh met metal seemed like the skin and coat were growing in overtop, the steel seemed porous like a pony skull. A small lens was where my pupil should be, along with ports for some kind of jack to be plugged into my skull. A space, directly between my eyes, a slot. For what? It was empty, and had a cover to it.

Both forelegs... looked like I was wearing a suit of armor. Pauldrons jutted out where my shoulders should be, hanging over the uppermost parts of my legs, and my knees were similarly reinforced. Shiny shiny white metal. I stuck my tongue out. Metal as well, segmented. Well then.

I smiled at Wrench as I struggled onto all four hooves. Clancy coughed a little to get my attention away from myself and myself. "There is... someone in the waiting room for you." I canted my head. What?

Wrench supported me as I walked down the hallway where he'd indicated. A sparse room, holding little but chairs and a few tables, littered with old and decayed magazines. Settled on two of the chairs and looking like the parents of the foal I killed. A gryphon, and an alicorn.

Twelve-Power and Gilda lived. I still had a chance at winning. My friends were out there somewhere. And I was going to find them, and we were gonna kill Surprise all kinds of dead.

Because nobody ever really dies...

Level Up.

Level Up.

Speech + 25

Sneak +25

Spanner: In My Hoofsteps- You're more adept at commanding others than ever before, inspiring even pacifists to combat. Good work, killer. (Upgrades Follow The Leader.)

Wrench: MIND Control- You're just getting used to using the MIND, so there will be mishaps here and there. But you're a damned sight sneakier than anypony else around! (Level 1 skill)

The Tavern At World's End (Prologue)

The Bar At The End Of The World (Prologue)

At the end of the world, there is a bar like no other. A black-plumed griffon wipes the oaken bar that despite the mars from aeons of drinks and whatever passes for cigarettes of the bar’s patrons, is perfectly clean already. In fact, it never becomes soiled. Behind him, there is row upon row of bottles, clean glasses, everything he could conceivably need. No matter what’s ordered, he always has the ingredients on hand to make it. One can hear through a swinging door the chatter of kitchen staff making pub food recognizable anywhere.

        Entering, you may think you’ve been here before. All at once, you have, and you have not. This is a place seen in a fever dream, by those whose hearts stop. For this place, this watering hole at world’s end, is reserved for those some may foolishly dub the ‘damned’.

        In one corner, the Headless Horse is listening to Charlemane speak of his legions of illegitimate children.

        A stranger in a black coat and rakish hat entered some time ago, and listened to a grey mare recount her tale. It was a good one. Long, but not long enough her rapt audience (who had heard it before at least once) lost interest. But it was winding down, the stranger waiting her turn to speak.

        “If I’m going to tell you about the adventure of my life -- explain how I got to this place with these people, and why I did what I’m going to do next-- I should probably start by explaining a little bit about Pipbucks...” She smirked triumphantly, as she ended her story at its beginning...

        The stranger cleared her throat. “Tha’ was a right good story, I’ll gi’e ye tha’ one.”

        The stranger tipped her hat up to reveal a disfigured face still coated in graveyard muck. A mare, white in coat and three fourths mechanical, winced. A new story enticed the ears of everypony present, and a hush (never silence, here, no..) fell over the comfortably smoky room, an expectant quiet punctuated by the clink of bottles and glasses.

        “But I ken y’ve all hert its ilk afore.” The keeper laid a drink at her hooves, the mare sipping slowly from it. She gained strength and sighed softly. The harsh burr faded from her voice, and her face unfolded from itself. Scars faded, wounds healed, as she collected her thoughts.

        “Now, you’ve gotten most things right from where I’m standing. But my story is my story, and there ent none quite like it.”

        A stallion murmured, and it broke the spell of quiet cast by the stranger.

        “Is it tragic?”

        “Is it a comedy?”

        “Is it scary?”

        The mostly-mechanical mare. “Is there love?”

        The gray mare who had told her story before the stranger had spoke, her words cutting through and ending the chatter. “Is there a happy ending? Does it end in sunshine and rainbows?”

        “That’s as may be. I leave such judgements to you all. An’ nae, it ends on a magenta sunset.”

        “Then please, tell us.”

        “Tell us!” clamored the massed horde. She cleared her throat again. “Okay. A little bit o’ history afore I start...

Luna returned to Equestria to find things better than they had been. Better than she’d expected her sister to run things in her absence.

The mighty zebra nation objected to Luna’s return to rule, citing pseudoreligious nonsense. War breaks out, Equestria responds viciously and is victorious within five years of hard fighting, with surprisingly few casualties. The zebra lands are annexed, her people enslaved that did not willingly become bottom-caste citizens.

The princesses returned to their normal way of doing things- they fractionalized. Equestria became a nation ruled by three separate governments- a Day Court, a Night Court, and the Enclave of the ponies themselves.

Somehow during these years Equestria crumbles. The nation dissolves and becomes three pieces, held together by a shaky truce (more of a three-way standoff, really). Echoes of the Diesel Age had brought about the Magic Era, and after the dissolution Science gave way to the Atom.

Equestria and its neighbors became thaumonuclear powers, although the conquered Zebra nation clung to its coal and Equestria itself toys with harnessing the power of water and the rays of the sun.

It is not known what finally sparked off the war, what lead Luna against her sister again. That era, her Fall, is a footnote in a censored text of faerie stories, nopony knows whether or not the reasons she had for the first time around held true still.

But after thirty years of open warfare between the three sides a thaumological device was detonated in Canterlot, killing tens of thousands instantly, destroying a full sixth of the city. Leading Celestia to believe she’d been fired upon and to retaliate in kind. Destruction was mutually assured, Equestria died over the course of eight minutes.

But when the ash settled... Equestria, and war, arose anew.

Because war, war never changes.