Fallout Equestria: The Manehatten Project

by CreedVI

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Alternate Universe
Length: 6064

Secrets, the Equestrian Wasteland is full of them. However, this secret isn't like the others this secret should have been left buried under the rubble and ruins.

Secrets, the Equestrian Wasteland is full of them. However, this secret isn't like the others. This secret should have been left buried under the rubble and ruins…

After being exiled from his home in Stable 66 Concerto must learn a new way of life in a harsh, unforgiving world known as The Wasteland.

ePUB can be found for download here.

Notice: The rating will be raised in later chapters. That is all.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-24 06:33:21 UTC

Introduction

Introduction

"God, please save my soul, please,

let me live to see tomorrow!"

"The sun was high in the sky; its light bathing the cityscape in warmth. All was peaceful, or as peaceful war could allow. Ponies went about their business; they went to their jobs; to watch the Hoofball game (vs. the Hoofington Reapers); parents dropped their fillies off at school. It was another normal day. The sun set peacefully and the moon soon took its place. Just another night for the ponies working the graveyard shift; another sleepless night for students cramming for exams; another night alone for the widowed wives of fallen solders. However, while the ponies slept the war machine kept churning; preparing to unleash another bloody moment in history, but it allowed another peaceful night to pass by. Patience was a virtue it had and time was commodity it could spare. So, the night continued on and Luna's moon watched over Equestria like the Sentinels of myth.

The hours of night had passed and now the sun slowly climbed into the sky, warming the land with its celestial glow. To the west the pale glow of the moon retired only to reappear to a night that would't be seen by anypony for years to come. The city's vitality was restored more and more as the sunlight continued to wash over it. Ponies began to make their way to work, cook breakfast for their children with whatever rations they had, or slept in for five extra minutes. But it was when the city was fully bathed in the sun's glow all of hell broke loose.

Bright flashes went off in the west; the air raid sirens began their high-pitched whine; the Bombs had fallen. Ponies began to scream in a fear induced panic as they ran for their lives, but only the lucky and fortunate would survive. Ponies began to run east, away form the warm glow and radiation of the balefire bombs and towards the only safe haven, Stable Sixty-Six. Only families with passes were allowed in at first. Next, foals and their mothers were taken. Lastly, the remaining spots in the stable were filled by the lucky, chosen by the Overstallion and his parliament. Then the thick steel stable door closed. Not to reopen for another generation..."

~Excerpt from the diary of Beauty Brass.

Prolouge

Prologue

“Life, he realized, was much like a song.

In the beginning there is mystery, in the end

there is confirmation, but it's in the middle

where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing

worthwhile.”

I sat there in front of the small camp fire looking up at the stars. I drew lines connecting the points of light like a foal's game of connect the dots. I looked up at the newly formed constellations. I found Ponarus, the pegasus hunter that chased his prey into the stars, but got lost and couldn't find his way back; or so his legend goes. So, I sat there looking at figures painted in the stars, and telling the legends behind them to nopony but the wind. I made it through four more legends before my storytelling was interrupted by a sound. That's all it was, but after living through the Wasteland a sound was enough to bring you to attention.

I was the faint sound of hoof steps coming up the dirt path towards me. I looked down the trail to see a group of silhouettes slowly making their way towards me. My friends. They walked single file minus one who needed help due to a currently lame leg.

They all sat in a circle around my small fire. They all looked at me with fatigued eyes and offered tired smiles and quiet "Heys" and "Hallos". Their freshly cleaned manes and groomed coats simmered slightly in the glow of the fire. The mare to my left leaned over and gave me a soft nuzzle, witch I returned with a smile. After a moment two more ponies came trotting up the trail walking side by side. One mare and a stallion, they had the same mane colour, coat colour, and only their eyes and mane styles were different. Hers were a deep blue and butch-like; his were a light green and tucked away in a tight ponytail. They took their seats and looked at me with tired smiles. I offered them a weak one in return. I let out a sigh before speaking. "You all made it," I began with a small smile gracing my features, "are the broadcaster and recorders ready?" I asked the pseudo twins.

They gave a small shake of their heads as they began to press keys on their Pipbucks. I looked across all of my friends. "Before I begin, thanks, for everything, guys." That gave me a few odd looks. They were always there for me, even after I'd lead them through Hell. I gave them all a warm smile. "I mean it. Thank you." I said before looking back at the stars.

The small motes of life seemed to dance against their black backdrop. A comet flew through their dance floor leaving clouds of glittering ice in its wake. The stars continued their dance, unfazed by the sparking rain. I heard a small chime from the other side of the fire. "We're all set, so whenever you want to begin." said a small feminine voice.

I took a deep breath and softly exhaled as I slowly closed my eyes; I recalled the introduction I had drafted earlier in the day. "My name is Concerto," I began pausing for a moment, "and this is my story. The story of how I got here today, how I met the friends I am with now, and how I managed to survive the Wasteland and all the horrors it contained. However, if you are to fully understand this story you will need to know about Stable-Tec and a place they constructed named Stable Sixty-Six..."

Stable Sixty-Six

Stable Sixty-Six

"Democracy? These days it feels like a dictatorship."

"Stable Six-Six was the fourth largest stable constructed by Stable-Tec. Built under the city Baltimare the stable runs under about a quarter of the city. Now, the way the Sixty-Six works quite differently than the way Equestria did, even before the war." Neigher paused and used a ruler to point at a picture of the first Overstallion. "While Stable-Tec appointed Doctrine as the first Overpony, we as a populous determine who our leader will be. This is known as 'Democracy' and is more favourable to some ponies than the rule of a monarch or of Luna's Ministries."

The lecture continued as Neigher continued to drone on about the second Overstallion and the introduction of "Capital Punishment." Life was simple in Sixty-Six. Do your job, don't break the laws, and avoid getting caught if you do decide to break a rule or two. Now, in other stables ponies were assigned jobs based on their family or their cutie mark, but here you can apply for any job you want. The beauty of "Capitalism" I supposed. However, Sixty-Six is far from utopia; poverty is a large issue for some families and I've seen ponies so thin you can count their ribs. The icing on the cupcake? We also had to deal with the highest crime rate since Sixty-Six closed its door. While armed robbery and breaking and entering are the most common there are stories of murders and other heinous crimes that had happened in the past.

I looked at the clock on the far wall and a small smile crossed my features. I raised my hoof and said, "Herr Neigher, as fascinating as this lesson is, I'm afraid I must depart."

Neigher let out a sigh and waved his hoof dismissively. "Go on Concerto, no need for the flattery."

I smiled gleefully and gathered my things and tossed them into my saddlebags. As I stood up to leave the lecture hall's PA speaker let out a crackle and a voice that sounded akin to a tin can full of rusty nails broke through the static. "Ahem.This is the overstallion speaking. Will everypony please report to the Stable Door." there was a pause. "That is all." Then the speaker went silent. The ponies around me began to murmur. I managed to pick out a few words but only two were important, "Capital Punishment."

Slowly the class swarmed out of the lecture hall and into the dull cement corridors. The florescent lights hummed softly as we made our way to the stable door. As we walked I picked out a dull clopping that was about five beats faster than the gait of the group. "Angelos." I said nonchalantly as I slowed my pace.

"Concerto. We need to talk." She said in a hushed voice plagued with worry.

I looked down at my winged companion; her brow was knit with worry and she studied the worn concrete floor through her bifocal glasses. She walked on unsteady legs as she chewed on her bottom lip; she was obviously troubled. "What's wrong?" I asked her as we lagged to the back of the group.

"I was caught..." She whispered with a chuckle. "I mean, everything's in place, but I was caught! ME! They have charges against me already, and with this... Concerto... I'm scared..." She said as she looked up at me; tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.

I looked down at her with with a consoling smile as I wrapped a foreleg over her shoulders. "Hey, I'm sure you'll be fine. They probably caught another chem addict; you know how quickly they sniff those guys out." I gave her a little shake. "Or perhaps they caught Med fornicating with his patents."

That elicited a chuckle from her. "Hah, yeah. The horn dog could never keep it away." She wiped away her tears and smiled at me. "Thanks, Concerto."

"No problem, Angie." I said as I let her out from under my foreleg. "Now, let's go see who's getting punished."

The stable's populous spilled out into the large chamber and quietly filled the seats set up for the occasion. I took a seat in the front, and looked down at the lowered section of the floor and saw him, the overstallion. He was a older buck, at least thrice the age of myself, but he was built like a stallion in his twenties. His white dress shirt and black jacket hugged his lean figure and I thought it would tear at the seams as he walked to the Door's control panel. His ash grey coat had recently been given a thorough grooming and he'd recently been to see Crest, the local dentist, as I could see pieces of cotton stuck to his lip. He smoothed his long white mane back with a hoof, wiped the cotton away with a handkerchief, and cleared his throat. The room fell to a still silence so quiet I could here the ponies around me breathing, quite creepy really. "My little ponies," the overstallion began in his raspy voice, "we are gathered here in this room today to set an example." He looked around the room. "I hate having to do this, you must understand, but I want you to think for a moment; ask yourself, are the crimes you're thinking of committing really worth the price of capital punishment?  No, of course it isn't.

"I'm standing here today because one of you, my little ponies, thought that we wouldn't catch you, or that you simply forgot the severity of what happens to the ones that break the laws put in place by myself and my parliament that were meant to keep you safe and to keep Sixty-Six peaceful. So, I would like to ask Mrs. Sugar Swirl to join me down here."

Everypony turned and looked at talked about her in low murmurs, but the plump earth pony stayed where she was. Beads of sweat poured down her cyan forehead and her bubblegum pink irises shrank to pinpricks. "Mrs. Sugar Swirl, I will not ask again." The overstallion said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

A Service member picked the stunned mare up with his magic and lowered her to the centre of the lowered floor. Everyone looked down at the the plump mare with annoyance, pity, or a combination of the two. "Now, Mrs. Sugar Swirl, we all know you made confectioneries, but I must ask what did you do that landed you here? You can tell them or I can."

Sugar Swirl opened her mouth, closed it, then croaked out, "I made and sold illegal chems."

"Illegal chems." Repeated the overstallion. "Now, would you say the extra bits were worth the price you're paying now?"

"N-No..." Was all she could reply.

"Of course it wasn't. You can't buy yourself out of this." He chuckled darkly. "Lookout, the shield."

"Aye, Sir." The tall white buck said as his horn began to glow light pink; the same colour as the shield that kept out the radiation and other horrors of the outside world.

The high-pitched whine of a klaxon filled the air causing ponies to cover their ears, myself included. Sugar Swirl spun 180 degrees and looked at the large steel door with fear filled eyes. I looked up at the ceiling in time to see the large mechanical arm swing down and extend outwards towards Sixty-Six's door. The large bolt on the end of the arm slid into place and tugged the thick steel door aside. Beyond the semi-transparent pink shield we could only what the light from Sixty-Six would illuminate: a scorched concrete floor. Sugar Swirl looked out into the darkness and emptied her bladder from her fear of the unknown.

Lookout walked up next to the mare and looked down at her with a stern look and sighed. "C'mon Sugar. Time to go."

Sugar Swirl looked around the room like some wide-eyed animal looking for help. She let out a sigh and quietly submitted to her punishment. Her head hung low and her ears drooped as she slowly made her way towards the exit of our asylum from the unknown. Lookout followed behind with a burlap sack floating in the air next to him. "The stable grants you the following," the overstallion began. "One stable sixty-six jumpsuit, two canteens of purified water, one 10mm pistol, and one 10mm round." he finished as Lookout levitated the sack to her.

Sugar Swirl looked up and began walking. She she lifted a hoof, reached out towards the barrier, but hesitated. Then the klaxon sounded again and the door began to move. Lookout put a hoof on her plot and forcefully shoved her through the magic field and she gracefully landed on her face.

Unlike most ponies she got up, grabbed the bag, and walked off into the darkness. Then we heard the familiar sound of a gunshot ring out and the door slammed shut. Justice had been served and everypony began to mill out of the room and back to their previous engagements. Everypony was talking to each other as they walked. "What'd you think she shot?" A mare to my left asked.

"Probably herself." Replied a stallion, his voice gruff. "I doubt there'd be anything else for her to shoot. Swirl might have had the intelligence of a mule, but she wasn't stupid enough to waste her only bullet."

I didn't join in the gossip nor did I return to class. I had a show to put on and business to attend to.

Showtime

Showtime

"It's showtime, boys!"

I followed the flow of the crowd to the atrium and looked around. Ponies were milling about trying to weave through crowds to get back to the mundane tasks of stable life. I looked towards the south end and saw the mock stage they were setting up for the concert tonight. It was shoddy in quality and crude in looks, but it did its job well enough I'd suppose. I turned away from the rickety structure and followed a small clique downstairs. I stayed silent as I trailed behind them. They dawned their hardhats and kept moving downward at the first sub-level; I however, hung a right and began to progress through the labyrinth of hallways. One right, two lefts, straight, double left, single right, and the second door on my left.

I stood in front of a small door labeled, "Maintenance access only: Generator One." And as I said before, if you're gonna break the rules, don't get caught. I checked my six, three, nine, and every digit in between. deciding I was good to go, I opened the mechanical door and stepped out onto the metal catwalk; letting the door softly whoosh closed behind me. I listened to the rumble of the turbine as I thought. "Okay, my bag should be somewhere 'round here." I said to nopony but myself. I turned to my right and nearly jumped out of my coat as I looked at the buck that seemed to have manifested from the warm air around us. There was something off with the earth pony stallion. His cyan coat and navy blue mane seemed to glow with a faint orange aura, and the four-leaf clover on his flank

"Whatcha lookin' fer, Laddie?" The buck asked in a heavily accented, yet upbeat voice.

"I-I'm looking for a bag." I stammered. "It's small, about yea big." I said as I held my hooves about two tin cans' length apart.

"Ah, ya mean this?" he asked as he pulled out the bag and held it between his teeth. "I was about ta turn it into one of them hounds, I haven't got tha faintest idea o' what's in 'er. She's got a fine weight to 'er though." The buck said as he hooved my bag to me.

"Thanks." I said as my light brown aura surrounded the bag and floated it beside me. "Could you do me a favour not tell the Hounds about this?"

"Tell the Hounds about what?" Came a gruff voice behind me.

I jumped and did a 180 degree turn and looked up at a pissed looking Lookout. He seemed a lot smaller from a distance, or when standing next to the overstallion, but the overstallion makes anyone look tiny.

"Me laddie came down 'ere ta chit chat." The maintenance stallion said to Lookout as he pointed at me. "I 'ope that's not a problem."

"Trespassing into a restricted area is a problem...?" Lookout said as he looked down at me.

"Ahhh... Shamrock." The stallion said looking up at Lookout with a nervous grin.

"Right..." Lookout said before returning his attention to me. "Come with me kid, I gotta lock you."

"Well, Lookout, judging from the wrinkles in your suit and the fact you're working overtime down in the sub-levels, I assume you're in need of some bits; I'd be glad to send some your way." I said trying to buy my way out of trouble.

"How much?" Lookout asked without skipping a beat.

I took a moment to think and recall the bartering lessons an ex stable member. Bartering in Sixty-Six was normally done in terms of hundreds. Quid being a hundred half being fifty, quarter being twenty-five bits, oct as twelve and one half bit, and so on and forth. "Quarter and a half." I said with a grin.

"Double quid." Lookout retorted.

"Double quid?!" I repeated in disgust. "Quid quarter."

"Quid half."

"Quid quarter and triple oct."

"Round up?"

"Naturally." I said with a smile.

"Deal." He said with an outstretched hoof.

"Deal." I repeated with a smile as we shook on it.

I pulled out my pouch of bits and counted out his 138 bits and gave him his money. "Right, well, I should go clock out. See you at the show tonight." He said as he walked out the door.

After thanking Shamrock for covering for me and explaining that, yes I am in fact "That one popular music guy," I walked out the door and made my way back to the atrium.

Flat; sharp; flat; flat; rest, two, three, four, one. Natural; octave; slur; tie, three, four, one, two three, lift... and hold. Taktstock placed his baton on the podium and like robots the orchestra's arms dropped. We were a sextet really, but we didn't go by that for obvious reasons. The audience erupted into a thunderous applause that reverberated throughout the atrium and the halls. The acoustics were garbage to say the least, but this is an assembly room, not a concert hall. We took our bows and carried out things backstage. As I was packing my double bass away I heard somepony walking towards me, so naturally I looked up and immediately regretted it as I made eye contact with Rosin.

Rosin was a... pretty mare. She had a long, soft, and wavy burgundy mane and tail,  and a snow white coat. She held her head high and at a subtle angle so she'd have to look down to see you. Her posture seemed to suggest, "I'm incharge," and "I'm the queen; you're all peasants to me."

"Concerto." She spat venomously.

"What do you want Rosin?" I asked with a sigh.

"Do you think I want to be here either?" She asked reading my mind.

"Stop reading my mind and just cut to the point. I'm still able to get you more jail time and you know it, little miss mind reader." I said with a scowl as I continued to pack up my bass.

"Look, sorry I cheated on you, now can we drop this and move on?" She asked with a frustrated sigh.

"I know you're not sorry in any way, but yes, please move on." I said shortly.

She sighed. "Whatever. The director wanted to give you this." She said as she levitated me a sealed envelope.

I took it and put it in my bass case with my sheet music. "Thanks, mail mare." I said as I levitated my bass onto my back, secured it, levitated the small sack from the maintenance, and headed off down the corridor.

I unlocked the door in front of me and it slid open with a quiet hiss. I stepped through and I let it close behind me as I tucked my bass away in the back corner of the living room. I swung open a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of water. I took a drink of the room temperature liquid and set it down on the coffee table in the middle of the room before opening the door separating my pigsty of a room from the tidy living room and stepping through.

I entered the room and kicked some papers out of my way, set the sack down on my desk, and carefully slid out the contents. There was a terminal hard drive and a Black case with the Stable-Tec logo carved into the shell. I set the hard drive aside and opened the black case. I ,levitated out the parchment on top. I carefully unfolded it and read it.

"Dear Doctrine,

We, my brothers and I, will no longer be researching and or designing Pipbucks, neither privately or publicly. In the contract we had to sign to achieve our position it stated, 'Upon the deconstruction of Stable-Tec, you are to halt all design and production of any Stable-Tec device, research, and reverse any and all in progress construction.'

The bombs have fallen and Equestria and Stable-Tec have been destroyed. So, to honour our contract, consider this Pipbuck 4500 Lambda to be our final creation and our symbol of resignation.

Sincerely,

The Ex-Pipbuck Project directors -- Ohm, Volt, and Ampère.

I refolded the parchment and carefully set it aside. I levitated the out the true gem, the Pipbuck 4500 Lambda. I grabbed it in my hooves and ran a hoof over the polished titanium surface and the reinforced glass. "Wow..." I whispered contently.

But before I could play with my new toy I had to set it up. I took the back casing off of my terminal and extracted my hard drive and replaced it with the one that came with my Pipbuck. I booted up the terminal and it loaded a string of text.

Awaiting Lambda connection...

"Connection? I didn't see a port on it.." I mumbled to myself as I turned back to the case. "Oh, look, instructions..." I said as I levitated out the leaflet and opened it to the "Setup" page. I sighed "Of course..."

I pulled out the set of tools that came with my new toy and opened the almost invisible access port. The metal cover swung down on a hinge to reveal the uplink port. I took out the uplink cable and plugged everything in. The prompt continued on.

Lambda found.

Installing... 01 Percent...

As exciting as it sounded I wasn't going to sit around and watch the number slowly tick up. So, Instead I cleaned my room, ate a snack, and laid in my bed. I stared up at the concrete ceiling and I slowly... began... to... fall... asleep...

I awoke an hour later to an electronic beeping. Groaning I slid off of my bed and walked over to the terminal. I read the string that was printed on the monitor.

Select Pipbuck UI: A (Amber), C (Cyan), G (Green), W (White)...

I looked down at the keyboard and hit the "W" key. Strings of text sped across the display and as soon as it had started it had finished. I looked down at the Pipbuck and saw a white Stable-Tec logo on the display before it flashed away and displayed the status screen; it was empty for nopony was wearing it. I powered down my terminal, took out the hard drive, and set it down on my desk. I rifled through my desk drawers and pulled out a black permanent marker. I quickly marked the hard drive with an "L" before I put it in my desk drawer with the marker and the casing the Pipbuck came in. I opened the drawer above and I looked up and around the room having the strangest feeling of déjà vu. Brushing it off as nothing, I pulled out my tools and got to work. In ten seconds flat I had the Pipbuck's clasp open, and in another ten I had the device secured around my foreleg.

It was a bit heftier than your average Pipbuck and was about six times as comfortable. I ran my Pipbuck through a start up test to ensure everything was working. I clicked my EFS on to check if it was working, but no marks came up. I shrugged then switched it off; everyone was probably doing something, and besides it wouldn't do me any use down here.

I walked out into the living room and levitated my bottle of water over to me, but stopped as I saw a drop of water drip off the plastic. I examined the bottle and noticed the layer of condensation that had formed. "No, that's not right."I muttered to myself.

As I looked around the room I noticed other minute differences; misspelled book titles, colour differences, ect. little things a pony would normally overlook. I trotted over to my bass and unzipped the pocket that contained my blank pieces of paper? That's when I realised it, I was stuck in an illusion. The room around me faded away and I tumbled down through a void of empty space.

When I opened my eyes I examined my surroundings. The room was dimly lit and undecorated. On the wall to my left was a two way mirror. To my right was a bare wall, and in front of me was a table with a thin file placed atop it next to a bottle of water; the wall beyond was bare as well. I looked down at myself and saw that the Lambda was still attached to my foreleg. I checked the chronometer; it read 20:54:45. Exactly fifteen seconds later I heard a door open and close behind me. There was the sound of hoof steps and the overstallion sat down on the side opposite of me. "Concerto," He said in an official tone, "as of 20:55:00 you are on trial."

I spoke the one and only thing that came to my mind, "Shit."

Footnote: Level up.

New perk: Computer Whiz -- You gain an additional four attempts at hacking any terminal after it has been locked down.

Inquisition

Inquisition

"Now, old woman -- you are accused of heresy on three counts -- heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action -- four counts. Do you confess?"

I looked across the table at the clean-cut stallion before me. "You're kidding, right?" I asked with a laugh. "What reason do you have to put me on trial?"

"Well," the overstallion began as he tapped the file that lay on the table before him, "Let us have a look, shall we?"

He opened the file and began to read off my wrongdoings. The list began at "Trespassing," five counts, "Idle threats," a lot, and ended with "Note passing during instruction," fifteen counts. "But those aren't why you're here, Concerto." The overstallion began, "I need to know what you know about these ponies." He slid a few photographs across the table to me.

I levitated them in front of me so I could see them better. The first photo was of an elderly stallion; his mane was short, white, and tightly curled, as was his bushy tail. His coat was ebony but had faded to a dark grey with age, and two burgundy eyes peered out behind a thick pair of spectacles sat upon his wrinkled face. There was something odd about the stallion, but I could not place it, so I moved on to the next photo.

The next photo was of the odd stallion I'd seen down in the maintenance levels, Shamrock, every detail was accurate, I could even make out the faint orange glow that seemed to radiate around him. But there was something off. His eyes. Instead of the navy blue I remembered them as, they appeared to be caught between a couple colours. I moved on to the next picture and recognised the mare instantly. I couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" The overstallion snapped.

"Rosin? You're suspicious of Rosin?" I asked with amusement. I flipped to the last picture while saying, "Oh, that's jus-" I stopped mid-sentence.

"Not so funny now, is it?" The overstallion asked, cockiness filling his voice.

Floating in front of me was a photograph of Angelos and myself. My mouth hung agape and I struggled to find something to say. I gulped and set the photos on the table.

"Now you realise the severity of your situation, Concerto." The overstallion began with an "all business" attitude. "You see, there's a link between you five, you all were found sneaking into the maintenance sector for Generator One, unauthorised I might add, within the past forty-eight hours. The first one seen was Rosin, followed by the elder stallion, then your little winged marefriend there, then the stallion that was identified as 'Shamrock', and he then bumped into you." He gave a weary sigh. "I've been working to crack this all night and I'd appreciate it if you'd help me out here."

I sighed and spread the photos out in front of me. "Angie went in to leave me an item of importance, I went in today to pick it up. The item was a pipbuck, a Pipbuck 4500 Lambda to be specific. That's all the information I can give you. Now, my turn. Why did you get me first?"

"Well," He began leaning onto the table, "we tried to go after Shamrock and the elderly stallion, but we cannot interrogate them, as they passed away going on twenty-two years ago. Now, Rosin and yourself both took 'Advanced Magic and Spell Casting 105.' In this class, you were taught how to change your appearance. So, we have come to two conclusions: one, you or Rosin used your knowledge of this spell to change your appearance and did something to the generator, which is unlikely due to your mediocre marks and her failing ones; or two, you and Rosin teamed up and used the spell on Angelos and had her do everything, also unlikely due to your... falling out."

"What don't you guys keep track of?" I muttered to myself. "But you are incorrect, I can do no more than a pallet swap, and Rosin, as I remember, burnt out when she tried."

"So, you're saying somepony else is behind this?" The overstallion asked, disbelief plaguing his voice and an eyebrow raised.

"It's the only possibility." I began. "You're prime suspects as of right now are two dead stallions, a pegasus, a two average unicorns. Besides, even if we could pull off the spell we'd need something to reference and you said they died twenty-two years ago, so neither of us could've seen them."

The overstallion paused a moment to think. "So, if what you're saying is true we'd be looking for a magically gifted unicorn thirty plus years of age that knew both of the deceased. There are over two hundred possible suspects that could match that criteria. Do you know how long that would take?" The stallion asked rhetorically as he rose to his hooves.

"Question, Sir. What are we investigating exactly?" I asked hoping for an answer.

"After seeing the first two trespassing I sent a crew to investigate. They found that the access hatch on Generator Two had been opened with ill fitting tools. The screws securing the hatch had been stripped, so unable to get into it, we tested it and it worked fine so we filed it as an attempted sabotage. After seeing the pegasus go into Generator One I sent a team to check it, but it was fine. After you and 'Shamrock' were found down there we found no abnormalities within the generator. So, we're trying to figure out who's doing what so we can stop them and administer proper punishment." He turned and looked me dead in the eyes. "If I find you've been giving me false information, or that you tell anyone what happened here I will exile you. Got it?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Sir!" I stammered.

"Good, now go home. Don't do anything stupid." He sighed.

I saw the overstallion address a silhouetted figure before my world was engulfed by white light. I reappeared outside the door to my room in a blinding flash. I sat there for a minute trying to collect my thoughts before I noticed the light grey pegasus sitting on my couch. I looked at her and smiled. "Hey, they think we're criminals."

After filling in the details, Angelos went back to her own place to await her own inquisition. Once she was gone I remembered that I had other matters to see to. I walked over to where my bass rested and pulled out the still sealed envelope. I tore it open and pulled out the letter contained within and began to read through the very loopy cursive that only the orchestra director could have written.

"Concerto,

First, you must realise that this message will destroy itself so read fast. You're the only pony I can trust to tell this to. I fear someponies may be plotting to overthrow the overstallion, but that's not all, naturally. I fear the ponies behind it may be plotting to frame the orchestra. I saw Lookout and Sweets take Rosin for questioning, and she told me you were in the suspect list as well.

Do yourself a favour and --"

I must not have read fast enough because the paper burst into flame and was a pile of ash on my floor in ten milliseconds flat. I got the broom and swept the ashed into the trash before sitting down to ponder the situation. Who's behind this? Why frame the orchestra? Who'd want to do that anyways? This seems like something a druggie would--

"Son of a mule." I breathed. "I think I've got it."

Footnote: 35.7445636% to next level.