Fallout Equestria: Chivalry

Three alicorn sized drakes carefully strode down the white marble hallways of Canterlot Castle. Two of the three possessed scales nearly as white as the halls they walked, the last clad in dull ebony. Westwood, the newly succeeded king of Dracous, had his torso wrapped near completely in recently stained bandages while leaning on the shoulder of the younger of his two companions.

“Your highness. As late as it may be to say this, “ Alabaster started in mid-march, “You can postpone this meeting. I can organize that with the princess if need be.”

Westwood chuckled with a visual twinge of pain evident in both his walk and posture, “It would be a bad move if my first decision as a king would be to cancel a meeting with other royalty.” His eye twitched when his aide, Lucien, pulled his arm enough to keep his ruler firmly secured in their walk, “Besides. A little pain is good for the constitution.”

Lucien grimaced at the twitches as though expecting this new king to spear him through the chest same as the former tyrant, “Forgive me for speaking out of place sire,” Lucien started instantly turning his head to avoid as much pain as the ruler would throw at him, a blow that wasn’t even hinted at, “but this might be overdoing it a bit. It’s only been a day since Luz’s overthrowal. Rest might be a better option.”

Westwood glanced a single yellow eye at his aide, “Was Luz really that much of a bastard?” He asked with a hint of contempt for the former royal. Without letting him answer, the shade looked forward onto the audience chamber doors, “Rest can wait. There’s too much to worry about right now. Just make sure I don’t fall when I take my stand.” What came next almost seemed alien to Lucien, a genuine smile.

Lucien returned the smile and let the elder of the three proceed to the doors, “As you wish your highness.” The younger holy drake let Westwood take to his own talons and walk through the newly opened doorway.

Westwood walked with heavy clattering steps as each talon collided with the white marble floors. Before him stood Celestia with a brief look of astonishment as to who actually walked through her doors instead of who she assumed would. After several steps, Westwood stood still and straight with a discipline that overcame the looks of pain he previously possessed. With his right claw balled up over his heart, Westwood respectfully bowed his head to the princess.

Celestia returned the bow, “My apologies for the look of surprise. I was expecting someone else.” She spoke when her head rose in time with the draconian.

Alabaster cleared his throat before Westwood could react, “I would have addressed the concern prior, but our king wished for his identity to be kept a secret for the most part.” Westwood grinned with his maw full of sharp fangs at the mention though ultimately he remained silent about that measure.

Celestia looked to the older advisor then back to the royal, “This surprise is refreshing considering who you’ve replaced.” Her stride was every bit as majestic and regal as her white coat and multicolored mane, “To the matter at hand. You wished to discuss circumstances regarding our nations and safety between us.”

Westwood nodded with some strain starting to show itself while his body shook in place, “Yes. Since I have no reason for attack and I fear no reason to be attacked. I wished to settle a peace treaty to ensure no conflict between our nations.”

Celestia’s eyes shifted to the slightly growing tinge of red that was starting to reappear in the white wrappings around his body, “We can, but those injuries will need to be treated bef-”

Celestia’s words were broken by another’s voice as Luna stormed into the audience chamber, “Sister. A thousand apologies for my tardiness.” Her darker color contrasted the room so greatly that the room seemed to lose some of the shine it once possessed.

Westwood’s head quickly turned to the other feminine voice along with another shudder of pain as his wounds reminded him further that he wasn’t ready to be moving quickly. When he saw Luna, he was just about dumbstruck. Everything about this second alicorn was absolutely stunning. His fist once again balled up to his chest and he attempted another bow to the second royal. This time however his body decided that it was finally time to give and he started to fall.

Lucien attempted rushing to aid his king back to his talons only for a bright light to appear in front of him and catch the draconian royal on her side, “My king. Are you well?” Luna’s voice almost blurting out in a shout from the sudden drop.

Westwood felt some relief on his body when the midnight blue alicorn propped him up against her body and forced him into a supported posture with her wing, “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Once we’re done here I’ll rest up and be good as new in a couple days.”

Luna scowled at the drake’s insistence to carry on despite looking like he was on the verge of collapse, “We cannot allow this my king. You will rest now. We have doctors in our wards.” Before Westwood could refuse again Luna added, “We shall not accept no for an answer.” Her tone commanded the black drake.

Celestia grimaced at the way her sister spoke to the Draconian royal and with the track record of other royals in the same lineage there was reason to worry.

Westwood however looked up into Luna’s eyes and let out a sigh of defeat as though compelled to do as the princess of the night commanded, “Yes ma’am.” Even though compelled, he didn’t seem upset about the fact it was her that did so.

ooo.OOO.ooo

“And that was how I met your grandmother” Westwood finished his story to the filly laying against her hoof-claws. Her bright eyes just about sparkling despite the lack of bright light inside the canvas wagon.

“Was it love at first sight?” Midnight Rain asked with a mystified expression plastered onto her face.

Westwood chuckled before rustling his grand-daughter’s mane, “Maybe for me. It took a while before your grandma warmed up to me.” He glanced at the time on his pipbuck with a sigh, “Well, story time’s over. I got to go back out there” He grabbed his power armor’s helmet and pulled the steel over his face while letting the software boot up on attachment.

Midnight huffed in disappointment at watching her long lost grandfather start leaving the cart, “But I want to hear more about grandma and old Equestria.” The filly griped before crossing her forelegs across her chest and scrunching her face up Westwood.

Westwood glanced outside while the lines of code and start up images finally vanished from his line of sight, “I promise when my next break comes I’ll tell you more stories. You might like how me and Luna’s first date went.”

The filly pouted her lip with the best set of puppy dog eyes she could muster, “Do you promise?”

Westwood smiled and nodded behind the emotionless mask his helmet had, “A knight never lies.” There was an air of bravado in his voice even past the buzzing behind his helmet as his fist beat into his chest.

Another armored head, this one of an equine shape, poked in through the slight opening between the canvas cover, “Westwood. Are you ready to go? It’s your turn to-” The voice of Starset buzzed past the helmet before her singular visor adjusted enough to see Midnight Rain sitting in the car with her grandfather. The filly in turn gave her best ‘I know I’m busted, please don’t yell at me’ smile, one that looked very practiced, “Father.” Her tone went from casual to authoritative, “Please go outside while I have a word with my daughter.”

Westwood immediately grabbed his carbine and sword before he jumped out the back of the wagon with a hard impact as his bulk hit the ground. His attention pulled straight ahead as Starset jumped into the canvas wagon and started yelling past a freshly constructed black barrier around the wagon. The lens of his visor updated with the typical EFS information once his suit’s software finally booted up. His compass covered in blue IFF indicators from both his four point squad and the caravan he and the other knights had been contracted to keep safe.

His squad had consisted of: Starset, Phenom, Freya, the grey gryphon he had ended up knocking unconscious in the slaver camp, and Revenant, a milky blue buck with equally milky eyes that spoke with some sort of odd reverb. The filly hybrid was obviously not supposed to be rolling along with the adults.

For now, it was a patrol. There would be plenty of talk once there was a break or they arrive at one of their designated rest stops along the way. Until then it was going to be something of a long and boring walk. At least it would be if the living shadow would shut his invisible mouth for a few minutes.

“Woooooody.” Nox started as his body formed next to the physically present body, “I’m booored.” He continued lengthening the words to emphasize the point.

Westwood groaned with a slight motion to disable his in helmet microphone, “Then find a way to entertain yourself.” He muttered under his breath so only his counterpart could hear him.

“But there’s nothing to do,” complained Nox, “I’ve already used the swimming pool and arcade machine so much that it’s gotten boring. That and your head is empty.” He passed an intangible claw through Westwood’s head and wiggling his intangible digits from the other side.

Westwood wanted desperately to swat at Nox, if only his present company wouldn’t think he was insane for swatting at the invisible cloud of black that only he could see, “Then what do you want me to do?” The drake’s voice started growling.

Nox’s body shifted until it resembled a statue of a thinking figure, “Well, how about some music. Might be cool to listen to what everyone listens to now.”

Westwood shifted his visor to look and stare at Nox, with a nervous look from the wagon driver hidden behind the mass of shadow, “If it’ll shut you up, fine. Let me just see if anything even runs out here.”

Lowering his carbine and clasping it to his web belt, Westwood turned his arm to set everything for the radio on his pipbuck. Light static filled his ear frills while the autotune function searched for the best signal present. Only a minute passed before Lucien’s familiar singing voice as well as an upbeat brass band started chiming through his audio function, nostalgia for the olden times started welling up as he listened to his friend's voice. Sadly only another thirty seconds were left before the music ended and a voice that sounded like the owner gargled broke glass, rubbing alcohol and lemon juice interrupted the music

“Greetings Western Wasters. Your favorite DJ ghoul Lone Wolf,” that voice was broken by an attempt at a howl that sounded almost as bad as the voice itself, “back with another report. Why so soon? Because we now have a name, or at least a title, to that crazy bastard that took on a full platoon of those Steel Raider bastards. How do I know this? Because, my favorite audience, this time I’ve got an eyewitness report from my favorite filly Swiffy.”

The sound of swishing wind broke the stallion’s voice and the microphone sounded like it had been knocked over by that same interruption, “Howdy ya’ll. Swiffy here. Yup, those big bad slaver fucks are outta here.” The radio broke into a synthetic applause and cheer, “And what’s more, the one that blew that camp to shreds was none other than our mystery badass, but this is where it gets fun because this guy isn’t a pony, or a gryphon, or a ghoul. No, this hardass is a giant winged lizard with a rifle and some sick ass black armor.”

The attempted clearing of a very damaged throat broke what sounded like someone going fan filly, “Yes, we got it. Looks impressive. Before you go out there and try and suck his dick, how about we get to the meat and potatoes of the subject.” Lone Wolf sounded off while Swiffy seemed to breath heavily past the microphone.

“Right right. I was getting to that ya rotten corpse.” Swiffy spoke with a mouth that really did not fit the age that she sounded, “No idea why he went there, but a dozen or so foals and a single mare were in the middle of all that bullshit. And the mare gave us something to work with. ‘Kind Devil’, sounds edgy as fuck if you ask me.”

“At least broadcast laws aren’t a thing anymore.” Lone Wolf grumbled under his breath though the microphone still caught everything, “Well, yeah. Kind Devil. If you’re out there. I owe you a drink. And maybe an interview if I loosen you up a bit. Anyway, cheers all. And give some thanks to that black armored lizard.” There was some brief silence, “Since that’s over, have some Cherry Poppers from the swing days of yesteryear. This go round, Zoot Suit Riot. A classic for the ages.”

Westwood’s gaze went straight forward while the conga drums started to play in his helmet, “Wow Woody. Barely a week out here and you’re already famous.” The shadow floated in front of Westwood acting like he was hovering a microphone in front of the drake’s face, “How do you do it?”

Westwood’s helmet betrayed the amount of effort it was taking not to shoot Nox right then and there, “You got what you wanted Nox. Now go away for a while.” The Shade marched straight through Nox as he picked up his pace to move more ahead to get an image of what the road ahead looked like. As he moved he spotted a few turned heads from Starset’s clients, it was then that he realized that there was a radio playing on the same radio station that he was listening to in his helmet. Idle chatter linking up with what the DJ spoke of clarified the fact that he had just become high profile.

That idle chatter was disturbed by Freya’s voice screaming, “Burnouts!” followed by the rapport of her anti-machine rifle. Many red hostile markers lit up the heads up display in Westwood’s helmet while he sprinted past the now still caravan. With each boom of the griffon’s weapon another marker vanished from sight, the long pause between the last shot telling him and the squad that she was reloading.

Westwood skid to a stop behind a newly shaped black barrier from his shadow. Once behind his newly crafted cover he aimed up at the first hostile he could find. Dozens of deranged looking ponies were in front of him dressed in makeshift armor labeled the hostiles as ‘Burnout Raiders’ were out about a hundred meters and closing quickly. His sights were focused on the first target and his claw squeezed the trigger.

A curtain of white lightning and gold flashes disrupted Westwood’s concentration and pulled his claw away from the trigger. A second later a winged bipedal figure in glittering golden armor seemed to have teleported from nothing with a long silver blade crackling with electricity drawn like he had just finished a swing. The figure then stood to full height and swung his blade at the ground, a swath of blood splashing off. The subtle clink of sword to sheath was replaced with the boom of thunder while the raiders fell apart in a crimson mist.

Westwood’s aim focused on the new target, only for the EFS in his vision registered it as friendly. His aim remained constant on the potential target as it walked closer to the crowd.

“Hey, those were our kills.” Freya jumped in front of Westwood’s line of sight forcing the drake to drop his aim, “Go get your own.” Her anti-machine rifle now slung across her back while she jabbed at the newcomer’s chest plate with each word.

The newcomer chuckled with something of an echo in his voice, “Sorry about that Freya, they got in the way of a contract. I just wanted it over and done with.” The archaic armor walked past the griffon and towards Westwood, “Calm yourself Shade, I’m not here for trouble.” Each step was punctuated with the sound of shifting plate armor.

Freya grabbed at the golden figure’s shoulder and forced him to turn him back to her, “No way. You want to talk to him, you talk to me first.”

The figure sighed before using the sheath to his sword to sweep Freya off her paws and drop her flat on her back, “My business isn’t with you Freya. Leave it be and I’ll be out of your fur, or is it feathers? It’s hard to tell with hybrid types.”

Freya growled before pulling herself up from the ground only to find the golden figure already a majority of the way to the black armored drake.

Westwood in turn stood up and focused his aim directly at the gold figure’s head. The gold figure merely chuckled at the action, “As I said, I’m not here for trouble. Merely a matter of a contract.” The golden biped lifted one claw lazily up in a half shrug, “One that you inadvertently fulfilled.”

Westwood cautiously lowered his carbine from the figure, “How about an introduction before you start talking about contracts.” The drake more or less demanded while slowly shifting his talons in the anticipation of a blow.

The gold figure froze a hearty laugh echoing from his helmet, “Where are my manners?” A clap of his claws later and the armor seemed to just fall apart at the figure’s talons. In front of him stood a near perfect mirror image of Westwood aside from a lack of scars and the distinct image of a priestly figure tattooed onto his right arm, “I,” the figure started while performing an over elaborate bow, “am Hierophant. One of the Grand Arcana.” Hierophant glanced up from his bowed posture, “And you need no introduction, Warlord of Shadow. You are quite the legend in the circles I travel.”

Westwood stepped back while his squad slowly pulled forward, though not in aggression like Freya had. Starset now had her helmet removed, “Messing around with contracts again Hierophant?” The mare asked with Rain perched atop her head.

“Hi Uncle Hero!” Midnight Rain called out while waving one of her hoof-claws to the formerly gold clad Shade.

Hierophant gave a friendly smile to the filly and waved his currently unoccupied claw before redirecting his attention to Starset, “Sorry for the interruption, had to find your father for a contract he fulfilled.”

Starset glanced at Westwood only for the black power armored shade to shrug his shoulders, “And the contract?”

Hierophant traced a circle with a single claw. His shadow jumped to meet with the claw tip to trace out a black circle in the air. A small, yet heavy bag jingled in his grasp before the hole closed and the shadow returned to the ground, “On Lovers, Emperor had found they were going into the slaving business.” He held the bag out to Westwood, who had lowered his guard after no one pulled a weapon up on the newcomer, “And you know how Emperor is about keeping the Arcana on the straight and narrow.”

The bag dropped into Westwood’s now waiting claw, “You have my thanks.” Westwood pressed his right claw over his chest with a respectful bow to Hierophant. His visor projected an image stating that he had acquired five hundred caps, and a reminder to try and turn all the flavor text off on his next break.

Hierophant in turn shook his head, “If anything, I should be thanking you Warlord for dealing with our problem before it grew to great.” There was a brief pause between the party before Hierophant broke the slowly growing silence, “Pardon Starset,” he bowed his head in the same respect he was shown by Westwood, “Might I speak with your father alone? You have a job to do, I can’t interfere with that.”

Starset gave a nod, her helmet floating along thanks to her own shifting shadow, “Don’t mind me then.” She whistled to the other knights, “Alright everyone. Show’s over. Hit the road.” The helmet slipped neatly over her head, “Black Knight, when you’re done here get your ass back up with the rest of us.”

Westwood gave a salute to Starset with the order, if just on instinct. With that the caravan started to move again, leaving the two shades alone while the wagons rolled.

Hierophant's pleasant smile never left, “It’s rather refreshing to find another Shade. Like finding a lighthouse in the vast ocean.” His smile however faded, “To business however. Emperor wishes to offer you one more contract if you so desire.”

Westwood lifted an eye ridge at the statement, even if Hierophant couldn’t see it past the emotionless visor, “Really now? It another of your band?” He asked folding his arms on his chest.

Hierophant nodded, “That it would be. This one however I believe you know from experience.”

Westwood tilted his head at the other shade, “Really now, and who would that be?”

“While he goes by the moniker of Devil in this day,” There was a brief pause, “you once knew him as Agni.”

With those words, Westwood lost any conversational tone left in his voice and stared directly at Hierophant, “Tell me where he is.” The voice came out as an order, not a request.

Hierophant shook his head, “I would if I knew Warlord. He is not so bold as to show where he hides, but there are others that are with him. If you find another renegade, perhaps they can tell you.”

Quest Added: A Matter of Succession

Mission parameters: Find and execute Agni, Warlord of Flame, for his transgressions.

With a small sigh in frustration at both the lack of information and the continuous streams of unnecessary text flooding his vision, “Then I’ll find him out there. I swear by it.” He held his claw to his chest and bowed as an olden time knight.

Hierophant in turn mirrored the former warlord’s actions, “I know you will Warlord. Now, head back to your daughter. You don’t want to fall too far behind.”

Westwood looked behind the other shade, “Right. Hope to see you again.” With a short wave, he took off into a full sprint towards the caravan that he had fallen far behind thanks to his conversation with Hierophant.

“Woody, you realize you can fly, right?” Nox’s voice rang into the back of Westwood’s head. The shade in turn merely scowled at the empty air beside him where the voice had resonated.

Hierophant watched the former ruler run after the group of covered wagons with a light hearted chuckle, “You have no need to worry Warlord of Shadow. We will see each other again.” His claw extended out in front of him as a magic circle of black light formed and filled with dark magic. He stepped into the viscous magic and vanished into the ether.

Night soon fell over the wastes and the caravan in turn had circled around into a defensive perimeter. The center had a bonfire roaring safely from the more flammable components of the wagons. Gathered around the fire were the caravan attendants laughing and enjoying the rather cool night air.

The knights had mostly decided to join in on what festivities there was clustered around the flames. Revenant had tossed off the dinged up looking suit of armor off and danced like an idiot, Freya decided to go about hoof, or arm, wrestling with the largest stallion amongst the caravan, Starset was having a chat with the caravan leader which slowly looked like it was turning into an argument, and Phenom didn’t seem to stand still for much longer than a few seconds as she just about bounced between groups with what looked like a party horn plastered to her face while blowing it out at other ponies in the crowds.

Westwood however kept his back to the wheel of one of the several wagons, his carbine clutched in his arms as he set himself down to the ground and his helmet the only piece of armor taken off of him. After all the time he had spent out in the battlefield, the posture felt almost natural. He merely sat there watching the merriment while he stayed away from the crowd. A smile slowly crept up the sides of his face while somewhat tightening his grip on his weapon.

“Grandpa?” Midnight Rain’s voice picked up over the dull noise around, “You okay?” Her head cocked to the side with her amber eyes staring seemingly into Westwood soul.

Westwood smirked at his newly discovered granddaughter and patted the dirt at his side, “I’m fine. Just a little nostalgic of the old days.”

Rain took a few steps and set her haunches where her grandfather patted down, “Nas-tall-gic? What’s that mean?” Her head still crooked in that cute angle that came close to stopping the veteran  dragon’s heart.

Westwood cleared his throat if mostly just to keep himself from succumbing to Rain’s face, “It means I remember the old days. Want to see it again I guess.” His grip on his weapon released and it was set onto the ground beside his leg, “Don’t mind me about it, I’m just being an old grandpa lizard.” His solemn face transformed into a wide, fang-filled smile.

 After a brief moment of semi-silence between the two, Rain jumped into Westwood’s lap and did her best to try and wrap her forelegs around the dragon’s wide chest. At least, wide for the filly hybrid. Westwood looked down at Rain and sighed before patting her head softly, “Trying to make grandpa feel better?”

Rain planted her chin up against the hard draconian steel plates, “Uh huh, is it working?” She asked keeping her eyes on the drake.

Westwood chuckled and ruffled up Midnight Rain’s mane, “Yeah, it’s working.” He slowly relaxed into the wagon behind him.

“Hugs always make mommy and daddy feel better. Especially when daddy hugs mommy.” Rain stated trying her hardest to squeeze against the forged armor.

Westwood couldn’t help but to let more of a laugh come up when she said that, “I do feel better. Thanks Midnight.” The drake’s claw slowly stroked Rain’s mane while the filly was still spread eagle on his chest.

Starset took several heavy steps towards her father and daughter, “Rain isn’t bugging you is she?”

Midnight Rain’s ears flattened up to her head and she leapt off of Westwood’s lap, “It’s fine Starset. Just a little family bonding.” The drake’s small, earnest smile confirmed what he said to Starset.

Starset glanced to Midnight who was silently nodding her head, “Well. If you don’t mind me joining in on this.” She planted herself down on the other side of the drake, “It’s not every day your famous dad springs from the ether right in front of you.”

Westwood chuckled under his breath, “I didn’t intend on disappearing like that.” There was some relief now that he had someone to talk to instead of just watching everything from a distance, “Trust me, if I knew I had a family I w-”

Starset bumped one of her forelegs into Westwood’s side, interrupting what felt like a mope session “Oh come on, don’t get sappy on me. Especially with your granddaughter listening to you.” She leaned forward to look at Rain, “Who should be going to bed soon so she’s not sleeping when we get to Cathedral City.”

Midnight grinned widely, like only a child knowing they were busted could, “Pleeeeeease mom. I want to stay up and stay with grandpa.”

The continuous reference to him being a grandfather was starting to make the drake fidget with the idea of being old, even for his actual age, “Midnight,” Westwood started with a soft pat on Midnight’s mane, “Listen to your mother. It won’t be long after sun up when we get there. If you’re good, I might get you something with the caps that Hierophant gave me.”

The hybrid filly’s ears perked up at the idea of a gift, “You promise?” There was something about fillies that seemed to maximize how cute they could be with a simple look of the eyes.

Westwood softly poke at Midnight’s snout, “Only if you behave for the rest of the trip. That I can promise.”

Midnight seemed to almost bounce up to a standing position, “Okay grandpa. I’ll be a good filly and go to bed.” There was one more hug wrapped around Westwood’s arm before bounding off to the wagon that seemed to be where the other young ones were sleeping.

Starset let an almost grumbling laugh eek from her throat at the excitable Midnight, “Something tells me that if the war didn’t happen, I would be a very spoiled little princess.”

Westwood in turn returned with another mirthful laugh, “Maybe. Thought that might just be the grandpa in me acting up.” His more able vision watched as Midnight twirled in place before just about slamming herself down on the wood, “God I feel old.”

Starset jabbed at Westwood’s side again, this time with a little extra oomph to it, “Well you are about two-hundred some odd years, feeling old should just come natural at this point.” She joked at the drake whom returned her jab with one of his own.

“That’s still pretty young for lizards like me.” Westwood took a hold of his carbine and started to stand, “You guys rest up. I’ll take first watch.” He pulled back the charging handle just enough to see the round in the chamber.

“No, you’re going to sit your tail down and get some real sleep.” The tone almost reminded the drake of Luna’s more commanding tone, maybe a trait that she picked up from her mother, “No. Passing out from blood loss does not count as Celestia damned rest.”

Westwood released a mirthful chuckle in response, “If you were Luna, that probably would have worked.” The helmet sealed over his head with all of the normal boot up text that came with the heads up display, “I’ll go get Freya when my hour’s up. You get some rest. Dad’s order.” His careful steps guided him out from between the circled wagons and into the oddly calm space outside.

The night fell silent once the brief get together had finished up inside of the circle. The orange light of the flame died soon after leaving the former leader alone with his thoughts while he patrolled around the wide circle of covered wagons. A wide splotch of blue glowed in the corner of his vision displaying the entire party inside. The lack of motion signalled they were asleep.

The drake’s head shifted out to the distance beyond the perimeter watching for potential threats on the horizon. The patrol was interrupted by a digitized voice behind him, “Getting popular already?”

Westwood pivoted on the ball of his talon and pointed the business end of his carbine at the source. Only to see a small metal ball buzzing tiny wings in front of him. His aim lowered seeing the bug like robot with his head cocked in a degree of confusion, “What’s a sprite-bot doing out here?” He mostly asked himself.

“They’re actually more common than you think.” The voice chirped out again, somewhat quieter this time like someone turned down the volume.

With a groan, Westwood dropped his aim with the weapon clasped to his belt, “Really Watcher? You nearly gave me a heart attack when you used my radio, sneaking up on me isn’t much better.”

The robot merely hovered in its place with no other reaction, “I would have used your communications if you hadn’t reset the encryption.” The voice spoke matter of factly at Westwood.

Westwood huffed with a solid glare at Watcher, the glare having no effect since his face was hidden behind the concealing polymer lens, “I assume this is some sort of follow up after you gave me false information regarding that last mission. If you were to have told me the truth about what was going on, I would have gone in there with a search and rescue mindset. Maybe not have gone in there and caused a small scale genocide.” The drake’s arms folded across his chest with tense muscles.

“I...just had to be sure. There have been others. They claimed to be the Black Knight of the war. That was the only way to be sure.”

Westwood growled past his helmet’s voice amplifier with a snap of his claws to grab and force the camera into his face, “Had to be sure? If I hadn’t gotten lucky with that last radio call out then I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you.” His grip tightened on the steel casing, several loosened bolts popping loose from the chassis, “Ten foals and an innocent queen would have been trapped there still if that hadn’t happened.” His claws sunk into the steel, “And you just had to be sure.”

It was nearly a disappointment that Watcher didn’t seem to react to the spritebot collapsing under the drake’s strength, “As much as you don’t like it Westwood. I d-” The voice didn’t even get a chance to finish before Westwood slammed the hovering machine into the ground as hard as he could. His claw slammed hard into the ground until the robot was nothing more than heaps of scrap metal and wire still dangling on his claw tips.

Westwood’s breathing picked up as his anger seethed through his actions. The stifling nature of his helmet caused him to breath heavily as the rage passed with the destruction to the spritebot remains in his claws. His chest heaved with every breath he forced through his helmet.

Soft hoof steps approached the enraged Westwood, a fuschia hoof placed on his shoulder while he was hunched down, “Um, Westwood. Are you okay?” Phenom uttered in a weak voice.

There was only silence between the two of them for a minute before the helmet shifted to see the entirely bare Phenom at his side, “I’m fine.” He shrugged his shoulder loose from Phenom’s hoof before standing straight, “I thought you were asleep.”

Phenom rubbed the hoof that was on his shoulder on her opposite fetlock, “I had a little difficulty sleeping. Then I heard you talking to that robot. I’m actually sort of surprised that you didn’t wake everypony up when you started smashing it.”

Westwood took in a long, deep breath to ease his nerves, “Sorry. Maybe everything just starting to catch up to me.” His eyes shifted to the time in the corner of his display, “I’m going to wake up Freya for her shift.”

Phenom stayed close to the shade while he walked away again, “Do you promise that you’ll eventually talk to us? I don’t need to see your face to know something’s bugging you.”

Westwood picked up his pace back inside the inner circle. He didn’t want to answer her, at least not right now.

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

Update Authorized: No combat experience recorded

No New Perks Authorized

Current Party:

Starset: Hybrid Draconian Commander

Freya: Gryphon Sharpshooter

Phenom: Enclave Mechanic and Repair Specialist

Revenant: Heavy Ordnance Disposal and Utilization

Faction Discovered:

Grand Arcana- Faction Status set to Neutral

Burnouts- N/A, Raider Faction Hostile To All