Fallout Equestria: An Eternity to Rebuildby FillyosopherChaptersSS1: Forgetting EternitySS3: Welcome the NightmareSS4: Introduction of Ru57SS5: Introduction of PlumeSS6: Introduction of OmniSS7: Introduction of MassacreShorts introductionSS2: Error's EscapeSS1: Forgetting EternityFallout Equestria: An Eternity to Rebuild Prologue: Forgetting Eternity #Spike// RUN memwipe.x -warnings ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Memory Wipe Ver.1_7 By Eternity Research and Development Based on Original by Eternity Initializing... Broken Hoof tapped away at his keyboard. The light from the monitor radiated out, casting a shadow on the far wall of the cave. There it twisted and danced as the text flashed by, distorted by the uneven surface of the wall. The tapping of the large, hoof sized keys rebounded across the domed room, deflecting back from various angles and distances, traveling down side tunnels and reappearing from others. The constant rattle had changed from distinct clicks to a wave like rattle, rising and falling as the pony typed on. From the side cave entered a snake-like head. scales glistening purple, the head was followed by the long body, wings, and finally tail for a dragon. With a slightly irritated glare, the dragon approached the lone pony, drawing near enough to see the miniscule words flashing across the screen. "I really wish you didn't have to run that here." The dragons voice was deep, as is to be expected from a dragon of multiple centuries. Yet despite its age and maturity, it still contained a hint of the annoying whine the had characterized it so long ago. The pony barely reacted, perhaps having heard the dragon enter (not particularly difficult considering its bulk). The typing never faltered, nor slowed in the slightest as the pony responded. "You know I don't have much choice Spike," the dragon grimaced slightly, but didn't interrupt. "Only three Crusader mainframes were ever built, and this beauty is the only one worth working from. Unless you want me to make the stab at Stable 23 again." The pony's voice stayed monotone throughout his speech, grey as the remnants of his coat. If Spike had not known Broken Hoof for Quite a long time, this would have been more concerning. But right now he could recognize the total dissociation from the world. Broken Hoof was tired of trying, tired of striving against an inevitable fate. It had taken a decade, but the Wastelands had broken him and only the last pieces of instinct drove him to continue. "I suppose not, considering last time. But couldn't you just go back to the Ministry of Awesome? Even if your relationship with the Enclave is tense, they still respect you. And they can't deny a war hero access to their own records." "I tried Spike," another twitch from the dragon, "but they canceled my clearance a generation back. Apparently having a hero who eventually left the clouds was a bit too inspiring and was causing some ponies to actually DO something. Not to mention, they've cut off all remote access since the Enclave Remnant fiasco." "You could still ask." taptaptap. "Or I could use the machine I can get direct access to with mostly no hassle," the pony shot an empty glare vaguely in the dragons direction. "I'd have to come here afterward anyway, since I can't send out the orbs myself." "I just hate having to see you like this. it's like seeing..." The dragon cut off as the pony quit his typing and turned around in the chair, a bloody glare dominating an unholy head of crackled leathery skin. The pony's distraction had been replaced by rage. "Like seeing what! A Dying Friend‽ A acquaintance returned from the grave‽ You know Spike, as much as you watch you'd think you'd know more about reality! But your century of hidden solitude has robbed you of your sense of importance! You watch your screens as if you were watching a fiction, as if all those deaths and all that pain was just someone's idea of good television. It's not surprising I guess. I mean, who could keep caring, keep feeling for decades of pain, let alone centuries‽ But it doesn't excuse you for acting the part of a goddess. it doesn't ... Doesn't..." the pony's glare and anger began to fade as quickly as it had begun. "Fuck, who cares. Nopony depends on you enough for it to even matter." The gray pony turned back to the monitor, ignoring the dragon once again. The dragon stood in place for a minute, then two, unable to think of something to say. As he thought, the echos of anger bounced around the cavern of his mind. Slowly the drone of tapping replaced it and with a resigned glace the dragon left the pony to his solitude. System Diagnostic... Charge Matrix.....stable Central Computing Matrix.....stable Transfer Matrix.....stable Orb feed..... functioning Memory feed.....viable source found System Diagnostic complete. A new room now, this one dominated in the center by a giant pillar of computational equipment. The Crusader was one of the pinnacles of Arcano-tech engineering, allowing for massive calculations to be performed. This one was programmed with the functions for mass magical manipulation, which Broken Hoof was grateful for. A previous attempt with another mainframe had required him to write his own version of half those functions, and the time commitment had not been pleasant. Not that he really remembered it that clearly. After a few minutes of downloading and preperations, the pony stood and pressed enter. For a second nothing happened, but then his mane began to slowly rise from his neck, defying gravity for a moment before begining to emit sparks of arcane energy. With a yelp, the pony ran from the mainframe, fearful of causing it harm. The sparks were still erupting when Spike entered a moment later. "Gah! Spike, help me! this darned brace is throwing sparks around inside my neck!" Spike, seeing no other option, grabbed the pony by the neck, using his bulk to ground the pony momentarily. Looking closely at Broken hoof's crest, he reached a single talon in and pressed a protruding button gently. instantly the ponies body went limp and the sparks ceased. "Guh, i hate that feeling... like your entire body going to sleep. Almost the same as taking a bullet through the neck, but without the painful reminder that you're still alive." "Aren't you supposed to keep a fuse in here?" asked Spike, poke around between the ponies shoulder blades. Where one might expect muscle, or in the case of this ghoul, torn ligaments, Broken Hoof instead had a giant metal plate. Shaped to be unnoticeable, Spike knew the center bar replaced Broken's spinal column. It made for an interesting way to interface with computer's but given Broken's current state it was obvious he wasn't following safety procedures. " Nah, I just need something better then my spine to ground it. Mind sticking around?" "Well, I suppose i could. I was going to be in the viewing room, but..." "Just leave you tail in here. I promise you won't feel anything." Spike could barely pay attention to the monitors for those next few hours. Checking Available Resources... Memory Orb count.....7836 orbs Magical Charge stored.....395083 transfer years Max Access speed....27.4 transfer days per hour Max Save speed...11.3 transfer days per hour Transfer Matrix availability.....12.7 year storage Available Resources logged. "Where do you want me to leave you this time?" The pony sat with Spike in the viewing room, eating some war food from the smaller tunnels. He was wearing battle barding and a battle saddle loaded with two multi-barrel laser weapons. The entire thing would strain the muscles of an Earth pony, but the ghoul ignored the weight against gravities wishes. Both he and the dragon continued to watch the screens as they talked. "Preferably somewhere that isn't radioactive or tainted. Other than that, I don't care. Take your best pick." "I already have. I'm out all my best options these days. Not many places left with both ammunition and an open-mind." "Maybe a ghoul settlement?" "It works, but there's always the chance you won't leave. I don't think you want to be left out of the events of the next few years." "What I want doesn't really matter. Truthfully, you shouldn't be asking me in the first place. Spike, you've watched the Wasteland for over 200 years. I know that where ever you choose will be perfect." "I still want to take your wants into consideration!" "My wants are too caught up with such stupidities as pain and sorrow. You managed to overcome such useless burdens and can thus choose with total impartiality." There was a pause as Spike considered his next words. "You aren't corrupt you know. Just because you've lived through unjust times doesn't make you any less worth saving." "Wrong word there Spike. I've died through unjust times. I've been dying for twenty years now, and I'll be dying for the next twenty, assuming I don't kick the bucket early. Even before the Tempest, before Eternity, even before Nexus, I have always been dying. And when I finally finish dying, the only person who knows me for who i am will put all my pieces back together and have a little pitty party. Quietly, where no one else can hear, so that no one is tempted to retrace my steps. in the end, the entire project of my life will lay as unrecognized as your contributions to the Wastes." "But it will still be there. It's effects won't end with you, they'll last up to eternity. you said that once and I still believe you." "I didn't say that Spike! I'm not your friend of old. heck, I'm barely your friend at all! You're just another useful tool to my sick inventor," this was somewhat unsettling to hear from a monotoned, un-emotioned pony. "I will never be Eternity again Spike. You know it too. You think I don't notice how you flinch every time I say your name. You know I'm not really a friend, that I'm just using your name because i know who you are. You never told ME your name. Truthfully, you're still Watcher to me." "Perhaps you could just call me that then." Setting System limits... Max transfer length.....99517.2 years Max time per orb..... 24630.1 minutes (17.1 days) Limits set. Initialized. "What do you want me to do with this time's arsenal?" Broken hoof was shoving a thick granite chest across the uneven floor, straining for every inch. Still, the strain could not have been to hard, for his voice betrayed not a hint of it. "I'd like you to keep it for now. If you are right about the next few years I'll need it back some day. You still have space in that giant weapon chest don't you." "Nope. You filled that one up quite a while back actually, But I've got 4 more in the caves." "really! I don't remember ever bringing that many back here..." "It was an interesting time. Perhaps you'll find out about it this round?" "meh, maybe. i probably won't care when I do though... stupid curse." The dragon watched the pony struggle across the ground, moving toward the lower tunnel into which Spike could barely fit these days. Spike could have offered help, but either stubbornness or determination had kept the pony from asking. Regardless, the last hours of the last day were always difficult for Et... that pony. best let him spend it as he wished. Starting main program... Selecting Only Available Memory Feed: MF2.5-Z1beta (2 channel mode) Memory Feed.....stable. "You know, Broken hoof, what I said about losing a friend is the truth. Every time you do this, its like you dying all over again. And even if we haven't been on the best of terms, I don't enjoy seeing anyone die, despite what you might think." "But I won't be dead. I'll keep living on, helping out until I'm beaten down again or end up as mental as a raider. The I'll come back and you can unweave the basket to my case all over again." "It doesn't help though. You will still stare at my sprite-bots in confusion. You'll still walk into my cave in awe. It will still be years before you'll trust me, and still more before you speak to me like an equal. And by the time we've finally worked everything out, you'll want to quit. You have any idea how many times I've convinced you not to suicide? How many times I've pleaded with you to put on a brave face and go out again? Do you know how many times I've asked you to stay you, regardless of who that currently is?" "No, and I don't want to. Truthfully, I'd rather just quit this and be done with undeath. My project will fail in the end, so why stick around. I don't really know, i guess I'm just working on routine right now." "You're much to old to be deceiving yourself like this." "What do you mean? I'm only 20." Transfer options... Start date: NOW -32y End date: NOW Separate Awake-Sleep Ops:Y Awake: Separate Awake by emotion (option still in beta):N Keep trivial:N Keep daily:N Keep Important:N Keep Integral:N Save trivial:N Save daily:N Save Important:Y Save Integral:Y Sleep: Separate Sleep by emotion (option still in beta):N Keep sleep-time:N Keep dreams:N Save sleep-time:N Save dreams:N Time per orb:EVENT Add another instruction set:N WARNING: The options you selected will significantly impact the personality of the subject. In extreme cases this can result in permanent memory loss or death. Please change your options! WARNING: The options you selected will require more than a week of constant processing. During this period, the subject will be unable to eat or drink. Please change options to ensure patients full recovery. Change command list #: 1 What part of this command will you change: OVERRIDE full ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Override level:full Override command: SET warn_flag_death = 0; SET warn_flag_week=0; Override authorization: ******************************** Override accepted... overriding current warn_flag_death value. overriding current warn_flag_week value. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Commands loaded: list1 Memory removal ready... Execute memory removal:Y Are you sure:Y "What are you going to do with the orbs, Spike." "I explained that to you once. You tried to shoot me seconds later. On the off chance the two were connected, I think I'll keep quiet." After a moment, the pony turned and looked Spike in the eyes. his own Eyes had changed hue, both the iris and pupil swirling into a little blue. Taking a deep breath, Eternity spoke. "Thank you Spike. Thank you for keeping the promise. Thank you for keeping me going all these years. Despite everything I've said, the Wasteland wouldn't be here without you. So keep your chin up and eyes on the screen. If you do, maybe one day I'll release you from that promise and we can be friends for real." "We are friends for real. You just haven't seen it yet." But the moment had already passed. Turning away, Broken Hoof got to his feet and climbed the small platform set up near to computer. The Element of Magic lay on a podium the dominated the platforms center, and Broken hoof pressed against it's side to fit. "Well Spike, I had something planned, but it seems you've ruined my speech." The pony's shape crumpled to the ground. "I've already heard that speech." Memory removal initiated... Running analysis..... Saved Time: 24days 13hours 57minutes 13seconds Required Orbs: 328 Estimated Time: 12.8days Beginning Memory Removal and Saving... Blue and Gold lines of magic formed, waving around as they emanated from the ponies neck, thickening slowly until, with a blinding blaze and sharp crack, they snapped onto the computer and began to pulse. The pulses seemed to hold images, a video blurring with speed, rewinding. Spike watched for an hour when a slight pop caught his attention. A single Memory Orbs rolled across the floor from the small hole in the computers case. Starring, the watching dragon picked it up and with a sigh of resignation picking up the orb between his talons and with a *puff* sent it off to destinations unknown. This fanfiction is based on Fallout Equestria by Kkat; a familiarity with the source material may aid your understanding. You can read Fallout Equestria by Kkat on Equestria Daily The Fallout: Equestria logo used above was designed by DotRook, who, according to the original deviantArt page, allows usage in supplementary materials created for and associated with the series. Images really do make a difference, so he has our eternal gratitude and respect. If you enjoy Fallout Equestria Side Stories, you will want to check the Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan The Ponychan group is also a hatching ground that you can join if you want to share your experience, writing or comments with us. SS3: Welcome the Nightmare(Author's Note: This was an attempt at a new storyline that I will likely continue. While I liked many of the concepts involved, I do not like how the character and plot turned out. I've gone back to the drawing board, but you may see a large portion of this text show up in my latter work. Also, the mmmmm is a placeholder for names I had not yet come up with.) Character Introduction – Hex Unicorn Mare Stableborn Strength 5(-3) 2 Perception 6(+1) 7 Endurance 10(-2) 8 Charisma 6 6 Intelligence 7 7 Agility 5 5 Luck 1 1 (Magic) 5 5 Coat: Deep Purple Mane: Star Blue Eyes: Sky Blue Likes: Getting away with It, Cute Bucks, Strategy games. Dislikes: Her Luck, Her current (lack of) Magical Ability The seven of us stood in an uneven group between the two massive doors. The briefing claimed the transfer took only a few minutes before switching to the outside air, but as we eyed each other cautiously, time seemed to stretch on and on. The briefing had been positive of course. We were sure to get along great, the outside was sure to safe now, all we had to do was set up a camp, explore to prove it was safe and come back. “If you confirm an all clear, We'll send out a professional party to see your work! When they give the all clear, I'll open the Stable and you will our heroes!” The Overmare had sounded entirely convinced of their soon to come success, giving smiles and hoof-shakes. Such a glorious day for Stable 56! The ceremony was identical to the one presented last year of course. Stable 56 sent out ponies Every year to explore the waste. And the studiously ignored fact was that never, not once, had the Overmare sent out a 'professional team.' Most ponies assumed those sent outside just died, but a few of the more cynical ones believed the Overmare was ignoring reports. Cynicism with a bit of backwards optimism thrown in. I hoped they were right. Find out in a few minutes... I looked around at the ponies I would be stuck with for the rest of my potentially short life. To my right was Recall. The small, light blue earth buck had a mane which started the color of his coat but turned black at the ends. He still had a bit of cake on his muzzle from the Happy Exploring feast. The whole Stable knew him for his fantastic memory. Also know for his Inflated ego and tendency to brag. He did great back in school, jumping two classes. Ended up finishing the entire curriculum before even getting his cutie mark, an old-style camera. I hadn't heard much about him since he graduated, but he must have done something to piss of the Overmare. She wasn't one to throw out the kind of talent on a whim. As I watched him, his flat blue eyes met mine. He was scoping out the room too, no doubt writing us all off as useless. If I could get in as his friend early... nah. I'd never be able to stand his attitude. Next to him stood Breeze and North Gust, Breeze digging her head into her Father's side. North Gust was a strong Earth Stallion from Maintenance His cutie mark, a cross wrench above a heart, perfectly fit his role as a loving and hardworking father. His coat was a dark brown and his mane a slightly lighter shade. His dark eyes looked only at his daughter; he seemed to be whispering to her, no doubt trying to reassure her in the new setting. Breeze, in stark contrast to her father, had a pure white coat and mane. Her eyes were the only part of her with color, being a light brown which matched her father's mane. The poor unicorn was shivering against her father, trying to burrow her head farther into his side. It must have hurt him, her digging her horn in like that, but North Gust showed no sign. I could guess why they were here. Breeze was born to Polaris and North Star a few years back and while people wondered at her unusual coloring, so unlike her parents, they had kept to themselves. The doctors initially though she was albino, but her eyes changed from red within the first few weeks and everything seemed to be going great. I don't listen to the Lucky 500 too often, so I didn't hear most of the baby stories (and other crap) that might have kept me informed of the foals early years. It was a few years after Breeze's birth that I heard her name again. Apparently she hadn't spoken yet, at an age when her peers wouldn't stop talking. Doctor Twoheart eventually said she was just shy, give her a few years, etc. Long story short, she never started talking, or really interacting. No doubt the Overmare had chosen to throw her out when Five Paragraph had proclaimed her unteachable. North Gust wouldn't leave his child for the world; ten to one odds he had volunteered to accompany her. Over in the far corner was Jail Break. The Earth Stallion's coat was an obnoxious neon orange, and his mane pure black. His eyes were a deep black as well, the coloration making it difficult to tell where he was looking. The Stallion had been punished so many time by the Overmare, is was a surprise he hadn't been thrown out years ago. One rumor said he'd blackmailed the Overmare, and another claimed he was her, um, special someone. Whatever the truth, he was with us now and I was none too happy about it. Hopefully North Gust could keep the convict in line. Now looking to my left, I spotted Black Eye. She was a growing earth pony, still without her cutie mark. It was unusual for the Overmare to send out ponies so young, but Black Eye's mother had died in an acid leak down in Maintenance years back. Her father, who had stayed unnamed on her Stable Birth Report, never showed up to claim her, so maybe he was dead to. Left without a family to care for her, she was an obvious choice. The Pale yellow pony had purple-to-blue splotches that earned her her name. She was rather coltish for her age, although she'd have to be to keep the other ponies off her. She seemed focused on Jail Break, eyes wide, perhaps contemplating what he could do to her spine. Last was Plume, another freak birth. Plume was the, and I mean THE, Stable pegasus. She hid her deep red wings beneath a modified Stable 56 Security barding, the only clothes of our entire group, and eyed us with the gaze of a trained security pony. Of course the Overmare wouldn't let us take anything out of the Stable, as 200 years of ponies leaving would have stripped the Stable of everything Plume must have fought hard to get that barding. She'd completed the Security training not a month ago and immediately volunteered for the next exploration party. She was, unsurprisingly, keeping a yellow eye on Jail Break, but I really doubted she could take him unarmed as she was. Hooves crossed we never found out. The silence continued to stretch, with only the soft murmurings of North Gust and the background noise of the rusty circulation fans providing a sense of time passing. Bored, I sat down with a thump, drawing looks from all but Breeze. North Gust snorted and when back to his child. Recall rolled his eyes, lay down, and apparently began to nap. Some ponies... Jail Break seemed about to say something when the fan sounds changed. The air began to leave the room, the wind proceeding upwards toward the vents. My ears popped once, then again. I took a deep breath as instructed, hearing repeats around me. The air continued out, the Stable reclaiming every last bit it could before repressuring the air lock from outside. It was getting painful. My eyes hurt so I closed them. Breeze was making whimpering noises, muffled by the low air pressure, obviously not holding her breath. It would be terrible if she died before even getting outside! As I began to consider the likelihood of the Overmare simply killing us all, the fans reversed with a loud clanking. IN the walls, various somethings snapped and sealed, protecting the Stable. Then the air began to return. Well, this was it. Time to live or die. As my ears began popping again, I blew out my now stale air and took in a breath of the other world. It smelled... rusty. Not just rusty. There were hints of something else, flavors that I hadn't experienced before. It was noticeably empty of the overpowering odor of Stable air, built up from years of sweating, active ponies and mostly efficient air reconditioners. This new air smelled almost, well, nonexistent. You could almost forget you were breathing, with air of this quality. OK, bad thought. I took another breath, working my jaw to facilitate my ear's struggle against air pressure. Looks like I was gonna make it, anyway. My heart was going a mile a minute, but otherwise I felt fine. I cautiously opened my eyes. Breeze was gasping on the floor, bleeding out of her tear ducts and nose. It looked pretty grizzly, the blood staining her mane. North Gust was doing everything her could, which sadly wasn't much with the tools he had. He stood over her, stroking her coat and wiping her face intermittently. His coat barely showed the spot where he wiped his hooves, the blood and coat blending together. Plume walked over to see if she could help and Black Eye, now left alone next to Jail Break, scooted backwards toward me. “So, what do you think we'll find out there?” She asked skittishly. Trying to buddy up already? When I didn't answer immediately she continued on, “I head some of the Maintenance mares chatting. They said that the bombs probably destroyed everything and there isn't anything but stars out side. That is why the ponies who leave never come back, cause they fall out into the stars and just keep falling and falling. Of course, Five Paragraph said that was rubbish because the bombs couldn't blow up THAT much and if that was the case why wasn't the whole Stable falling too?” She was speeding up as she talked, both excited and frightened. “Instead, he said the reason nopony comes back is because they made a big city and they don't want to come back. I asked him why they didn't come tell us to come out too then, but he said it was because they were all bad ponies, so they kept it a secret. I don't want to be a bad pony, so I promised to tell him if that was true. Do you think it's true?” I nearly started to answer before she continued. “Of course, when I told the Maintenance mares, they told me I was stupid and...” This needed to stop before she ran out of air in the room to speak with. I interrupted, “No, I don't think there is a big city out there.” Black Eye was stumbling over her words, trying to finish another sentence before listening (I hoped). “I think there are a bunch of burned out cities, dead ponies, and little else. Now, IF you don't mind, I'm going to plan with Plume. A good filly would keep quiet while the adults talk.” With that I walked off, leaving the crushed gal mumbling, “I'm not a filly.” I reached Plume who was awkwardly attempting to help North Gust. I tapped her shoulder and began when she turned away. “So, do we have a plan for the big one over there?” I nodded toward Jail Break. “I don't know how much of a chance we've got, but I doubt it will improve with him around.” Plume looked down slightly at me and wrinkled her forehead. “I don't like him much either, but I don't plan to leave anyone behind. Until we get supplies and some sort of base camp, I'd rather keep around the muscle. After that, we can talk about it as a group. With luck he'll leave on his own, though I'm not counting on it. Freedom will be nice, but having prey might be tempting too...” “Heh, ya don't need a worry bout me none.” How a giant, bright Orange pony can sneak with far beyond me, but he pulled it off. “I'ma be off the second dis door's open, an I'd 'preciate ya all letin me go.” Plume considered, eying the two foals, me and Recall. None of us had the 'muscle' she was looking for, that was for sure. She wasn't all that buff herself. She responded, “I don't entirely like it, but I'm not going to stop you.” What further she was going to say was swallowed up by the screeching of gear. The outer door slide out of its place, red lights flashing. North Gust moved Breeze out of the way of the door and a metal arm descended from the ceiling to connect to the thick circular plate. The arm passed directly over Recall, still snoozing. With a ringing Bang, the arm and door connected and the door was rolled to the side, allowing us our first view of the outside world... It wasn't all that impressive, truthfully. A rocky tunnel proceeded, yellow light reflecting off rocks to illuminate our rusted room. Slowly a few small bulbs flickered to life along the walls, hung at head level. Some flying creature could be heard exiting the cave, no doubt alarmed by the noise. Amazingly boring. Then, as the echos of the door began to fade, I heard something else. I periodic squeak, squeak, coming from the exit of the cave. It was slowly approaching, getting slightly louder. Plume looked around for a second before stepping up to the exit and placing a careful hoof onto the earth outside. I didn't want her to have to stand alone, so I took a few steps forward to stand in her shadow. Yep, I sure am helpful! Finally the squeaking noise drew close enough that I could tell it was coming from... the floor? A metal box balanced on a single wheel rolled around the corner. The squeaking stopped as it came to a halt before us. For a second there was silence; we all starred at the unmoving box, not sure whether it was a threat. Then, with an extravagant wave of its arms, the robot, for that is what it was, began to proclaim in a tinny voice. “Hello Stable Dwellers! Welcome to the Wasteland! I am mmmmm, known by my locally designated name of mmmmm. I am here to present each of you with a standard Pipbuck upgrade, provided free of charge by my creators, the mmmmm corporation! If you would please turn you Pipbucks to channel CT and press accept, you will receive your gift!” Perhaps it was shock. Perhaps it was the sheer absurdity. Perhaps it was Plume reaching toward her Pipbuck. Regardless, we all followed suit, twiddling with our Pipbucks and receiving the promised download. North Gust took a few seconds of poking at his daughters smaller Pipbuck 2000 before he got everything correct and nodded to the bot. I looked back to my Pipbuck. Code (I assume) began scrolling past the screen for moments before everything closed down to a single prompt >Restart to complete installation. Y or N. I hit Y and my Pipbuck shutdown completely. I counted, One... Two... Three... There it was. The start-up screen showed what I can only assume is the mmmmm company logo, before swapping over to a sleek, redesigned interface. “Very good! I have received confirmation of all seven downloads!” I guess Recall was listening. “Now I will lead you to the New-U station! Please keep up!” With that the robot backed up, did a 180 turn, and zoomed off out of the cave with that repetitive squeak. Given a second of respite from the onslaught of new information, we looked at each other “Well, that was unexpected” I started. “Nothing was expected.” Recall turned his head back to face us and got up off the ground. He didn't open his eyes however... strange. “It would be stupid to assume we can have any idea what has been going on outside Stable 56 for the last 200 years. Just because nothing changed in the 1000 years of Celestia's reign doesn't mean nothing has now that the Princesses are dead.” “True” said Plume, obviously warming to her role as unofficial leader. “The important thing isn't what we can't know, however. What is important is that we remain careful of everything, including this little robot, until we have a good handle on what IS going on. Agreed?” I have no idea why she was even asking us, but everypony nodded their head demurely. Well, Recall's nod was less demure and more all-knowing, and Jail Break's nod might have been a nervous twitch, but Plume took it as a consensus continued. “Ok, in the tunnel I'd like Jail Break and myself to lead the group. North Gust will be in back. I can trust you to keep anypony from straying, yes?” North Gust nodded an affirmative. “Good. Everyone ready?” Not like we have to pack or anything... We started along the tunnel. The Stable 56 cave switched back and forth before opening out into.... “Celestia! that is BIG!” At first Plume's body blocked my view out, but when she feel to her haunches looking up, I got a good look. The ceiling of the Wasteland was hundreds of feet in the air. The fact that it still hung there 200 years after the Princess' death... well they must have been as powerful as the stories say to pull off magic like that. The ceiling stretched out, farther and farther, an unbelievable distance. There wasn't a single support either... Just this bumpy mass going on and on. It seemed to be made of steam or something similar, through there was no source in site. Maybe the Princesses kept it hot so that is rose to cover the real ceiling. Still, the sky had to be held up somehow and I doubted the 'clouds' (I study sometimes) were doing it. The mass must be enormous! That had to be the strongest kinetic spell in the history of Equestria. Slowly my gaze was drawn downward from the shifting mass to the borders. Some sort of jagged rocks formed the horizon, rocks of un-imaginable size. Between two, nearly straight ahead of us, shone a yellowish light. The sun? No way to tell but to watch and see if it moved I guess... And down below. I moved forward, passing Plume who was still looking at the cloud things, and reached the end of the rocky platform that the cave opened out onto. I looked down... You know, I've done some stupid things in my life. Most ponies in the Stable thing that all the little incidents are due to my not paying attention, but very few are. Most of the time I'm very... ok, pretty careful. I usually notice before I do something totally moronic. Like look down a 500 foot cliff for instance. You know, it's just that little moment of self reflection which makes all the difference. Vertigo overtook me instantly. I lost my balance and, as my luck is, continued forward over the edge. I watched with horror as I started my final plummet, only to be distracted from certain death from a terrible pain at the base of my tail. Recall, being the kind of buck to notice everything, had a good hold of my tail in his mouth. After a bit of struggle my balance was corrected and I feel backward onto him. “Why, thank you for that Recall. I'm glad my certain death was avoided. Are you okay?” I got off of him, careful not to plant a hoof on anything important. “My teeth hurt, but I will be fine. It IS good is was paying attention, as it seems our stronger members were preoccupied.” Indeed, looking around, they were only now reacting to the incident with divided attention. Plume, facing us but looking elsewhere, said “you'll be fine, ok. We should get going.” “Perhaps after everyone is willing to look where they are walking,” suggested Recall sarcastically. I took the time to continue my study of the land below, this time from a few steps back. The Wasteland seemed to be a dirty, dry sort of place. Directly Below us were hills. I saw a few farms that seemed unsuccessful scattered about. The were connected by small, deserted paths which came together and lead out to a larger path made of a black material. The distance made it hard to tell, but that path looked a bit wider; maybe a road? It connected to a collection of house and then moved out to the middle of the valley. The middle of the valley was split by a crevice in the ground running perpendicular to our mountain. I saw a bridge across it; there might have been more to the edges. Built next to the crevice, fairly centered in the valley, as a small city. I didn't pay it much attention. Normally I would claim to know a small city from a large one, but I had a great example of the later in view. On the far side of the crevice, a bit to our right as we faced out, was a city or massive proportions. It was more than 100 times the size of the other, made of blocks and blocks. It was too far for me to make out the condition of the buildings and roads. I could see a few taller buildings near the center of the city. Also obvious was a large well, offset from the center to the far side. It was too far to be sure, but I don't think any building remained in that portion of the city. Bombs indeed. A few minutes passed with nopony looking interested in leaving, but then the robot returned. Its squeaks were not as a apparent outside of the Stable Cave, bouncing outward into the massive space of the valley. He came around the corner and said, “Come on! Over Here!” He waved his arms comically and turned down a path to the right. Weary from the sight of the valley, our group slowly rose and followed the bot down. His encouraging shouts of, “Over here!” were all the conversation we heard. At one point in the twenty minute walk I thought Black Eye was going to attempt a conversation, but one look and she returned to walking head down. In single file we proceeded to whatever lay below. You might be surprised how hard it is to walk down hill. No, you aren't fitting gravity. But you are fighting your own acceleration. Truthfully, unless you are willing to run you are going to be taking a constant pounding on your knees. I wasn't about to run and, with any of my luck, go flying off an edge. Instead I kept on down the sloped surface, an ache growing in my four knees with every step. Eventually Black Eye got bored of the silence and decided to enjoy herself. This enjoyment took the form of a weird little tip-hoof step. I looked back at the unusual sound. Her legs were nearly blurring as she took huge number of tiny steps, swaying back and forth in some indeterminable pattern. At first she stumbled often, but she did less and less as I watched. Of course, then I stumbled and was forced to keep my head straight. Within a few minutes the pony had caught up to me using her little tip-step. She saw me looking a smiled before zooming off ahead. “Wait a second there, Black Eye.” I cautiously sped up to catch her and ended up sliding as I tried to slow down. She gave me that smile again as I wave my tail in a vain attempt a balance. I picked myself up as she continued by. “So, whats with the dance you've got going there? You're going to tire yourself out if you keep that up.” “Maybe, its much safer and faster than those giant steps you're taking. When I miss a step, I'm already getting ready for the next one anyway so I don't lose much balance. And I can speed up without risking my balance further.” “huh” I tried shortening my steps. Sure enough I got more stable, but I could tell that ten minutes of doing that would leave me unable to walk. I lengthened up a bit more as I responded. “Interesting theory. Where did you learn to that?” “I taught myself in the Stable, of course. Too many ponies take walking for granted. I'm gonna master it!” With a little nod of her head she scooted off ahead to catch up to Plume. The other ponies slowly began conversations. We weren't all that near to the bottom yet when we turned a corner to see a green-grey mare sitting on a wooden chair knitting. The process looked like quite an ordeal, involving three legs and her teeth, but I don't get a chance to watch as she put the half-finished piece down in shock. Mmmmm wave to her and introduced us. “Stable Dwellers! This is Mama Patches! She is will lead you to Welcome City! I must so do very important things, but you can see me later!” Turning to Mama Patches, he said “Make sure to take them to the New-U station!” With that, he turned an left us with the surprised mare. Mama Patches got to her feet. “Well hello there! We weren't expecting you for another few days, so I apologize for the lack of a welcoming party.” She picked her sewing up and opened a stone-looking door. Her voice continued on as she moved around her, well I assume it was, house. “Normally we have the openings well timed out and we have a welcoming party for new Wastelanders. Some food and friendship, and a place to stay for a few nights while you get accustomed. I make a delicious Rad-rat pie for it. Well, have to hurry to set something up anyway. The yearly party is one of the few bright points around here. Damned Calender should've let us know! Might be drunk again...” She returned out the door, now wearing a sweater and saddle bags. The sweater looked ugly; leather pads had been attached to the front and sides, totally at odds with the gray and black diamonds. Strapped to one side was a pink and white pistol. Black Eye ogled the weapon as Mama Patches turned to follow the long gone robot. I was interested myself as to why she needed that kind of protection. More evidence that we weren't in our Stable anymore. We continued down the mountain as she talked. “Now, I wasn't Stableborn myself, so I don't know exactly what you'll need to know about the Wasteland. The most obvious thing is to be careful. If you don't know what something is, leave it alone; the less attention you draw the better. If you want to stay safe, you'll find a nice town to settle down in, and when you travel between places you'll stay with a caravan. We're safe up here of course, but the valley roads aren't all that safe.” “But Miss Patches. We aren't going to stay out Here! Now that we know it's safe, we have to go back to tell the Stable so that they can all come out!” Mama Patches gave Black Eye a look of pity. “Honey, I know how nice that'd be, but it's not going ta happen. I've been living on this path for twenty years and every other some Stablepony goes back up to spread the good news to her friends. Every time, them come back down a few hours later, disappointed. Them Stable ponies don't want to hear it, I guess. Now, you don't need to worry about them any more, okay? The Wasteland ain't such a bad place, long as your careful 'bout your step.” “And its Mama Patches, honey. I ain't no spring filly to my going around called Miss.” Finally, we turned a corner and could see a small town below. The place seemed to be made entirely of rust and aluminum siding, with maybe 10 houses in all. It fit back against the cliff of the mountain, covered on all sides except one. The path we were on curves around to back, where a series of switchback led down to the back entrance. Finally, after two hours of walking, we reached the small town. Sign over the back entrance was painted with “Welcome to Rubble, Stableborn!” The white paint was turning a dull orange on the edges, showing its age. Beneath the sign was a small welcoming party. “The bot told us you were bringing some more along. I'm gonna kick Calender for this,” said a tall orange earth mare standing in the middle. She wore cracked glasses and had a open scroll Cutie Mark. Local Overmare, no doubt. She turned and smiled at our group. “Welcome to Rubble! My name is Mayor Mare,” Ooh, originality. “I'm sure Mama Patches has given you a bit of information about Rubble and the Wasteland, but we can talk more about that tomorrow. For now, we are going to have a little party, courtesy of the mmmmm corporation.” Ok, this mmmmm corporation was now officially annoying. What, did they pay off every pony in the Wastes to spout their name twice a minute? Each of us was given what I could only guess was an escort. Mine was a cute blue unicorn buck with a mmmmm cutie mark. “Hey there, what's your name handsome,” I asked. Mmmmm The blue buck blushed a pleasant shade of purple. “mmmmm. I'm your guide for the next few days, and your guard in case of an emergency.” “My own special protector! What an honor! What sort of things might I need protecting from out here?” The purple deepened. “Well, bandits mostly. They set up a camp half a mile east of here a month back and we haven't cleared it out yet. I'm also suppose to protect everyone else from you, if you, you know, end up crazy or something.” He smiled apologetically. “That happen often?” I was too interested to keep up the teasing. “Often enough. Five years back, a stablepony buckshot old Calender in the leg when a Giant Radroach crawled in his tent. He killed the thing, and then shot the mare back for the trouble... Back then we gave new stable ponies guns when they got out. Don't anymore, which is why we assign guards to keep you safe. Even in Rubble, things can get nasty sometimes.” “So, no guns for us?” “Once Doctor Nettle passes you you'll get your mmmmm gun. Til then, we just hold onto them.” “That mmmmm corporation, I keep hearing about them. What are they.” mmmmm shook his head. Was that fear? Respect? I couldn't tell. “You can learn all about that later in class. We're here for the party.” Class. Yep, the Wastelands was fulfilling all my requirements for suck. Danger from bullets, check. Danger from local wildlife, check. Danger of being forced to class by a cute gun wielding unicorn, check. The 'Party' was held inside the rusty Town Hall, a two story affair containing a large table. Large is relative, I guess; The table wasn't even the length of one of Stable 56's cafeteria tables. Still, it sat the seven of us, along with ten Rubblites (yeah, really). Apparently large group had gone out a day previous to clear out the local dangers before the planed date of our release. We wanted Rubble safe for our guests,” said Mayor Mare. The meal consisted of what was on hand, apparently. About half was various types of recycled goop. Apparently Rubble had some sort of organic processor; throw in plants and meat, receive nutritious goop. The attempts to flavor it all failed in my opinion, although I wasn't willing to try more after my first two tastes. The other dishes were a mix of food WELL past its expiration date and local cuisine. I ended up eating a bowl of Sugar Apple Bombs dry. The glass water picture was no longer clear, but the water was mostly clear. It didn't taste Bad at least, although the fact that it had a taste was slightly disturbing. After we had eaten our fill (I assume the others found something decent) the Mayor Mare stood up for a toast. Wow, I wanted what she was drinking; the tall mare was having trouble staying on her hooves. “To our honored guests! *hic* May you enjoy the rests of your respective lives in the Wasteland!” “Here Here!” The Mayor drank while leaning on a light gray pony, than sat down hard. The gray pony turned to us and said, “Would the escorts please lead the newcomers to their beds. We will continue tomorrow.” He nudged the Mayor Mare and supported her out. Mmmmm poked me. He didn't look all that sober himself. Where had they gotten the alcohol? I'd wanted to try it since I'd heard of the moonshine project back in Stable 56, but no one wanted to invite the worlds unluckiest pony to a secret gathering. Maybe they'd server more for breakfast? “Come on, I'll take you to your bed.” I ended up taking the blue buck in the direction his pointed, eventually coming to a small, one-room, metal shack containing a bed and some shelves. “If you need to relieve yourself, just go out back. Otherwise stay in here 'til the morning call. You leave and I get in trouble, so don't. He bounced off the doorframe on his way out. “Oh escort.” he looked back. I gave his my best Bedroom Eyes and said sweetly, “Wouldn't you like to keep me company to make sure I don't go anywhere?” He turned that shade of purple again, but mumbled “I don't think that would be appropriate, Miss.” He shuffled off as I quietly shouted, “Call me Hex.” He waved a hoof in acknowledgment, lost his balance and fell over. So very cute, that one. I'd have to work on him more. Sleeping on the rocks my mattress must have been stuffed with wasn't easy. Eventually I reached an uneasy equilibrium of waking up every twenty minutes to shift around. I should have followed mmmmm to his house. Surely the locals slept on better mattresses than this! Eventually I heard some pony walking around outside and decided that talking would be better than this futile endeavor. The air outside was cold, making me painfully aware that I still lacked clothes. I guess the Princesses couldn't keep the entire Wasteland warm 200 years after death. I added clothes to my Pipbucks to-do list. As I finished poking at my arm, I heard the hoofsteps stop. The pony had just come around the corner of the building next to mine and was silhouetted by the lights of the Town Hall beyond. He... it was mostly Pony shaped, but seemed to have horns coming out of his mane and back. The strange pony turned to look at me, lit up in the light from the Hall. He lifted a hoof to his mouth and whispered “shhhhh....” Then his hoof when back down to raise a shiny tube. Now, I know I'm a stable pony. I know that there are plenty of things I have no idea about, plenty of dangers that I won't even notice until it was too late. But even I recognize the danger from a pointed gun barrel. I did the only thing I could the circumstance; I slammed the door to my shack with a clang and began screaming. Like I would follow the advice of a pony holding a hand gun. Even I'm not that stupid. “FFUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK!!!!” I shouted as the door began to take hits. I threw myself to the back of the room, trying to curl up under the heavy mattress Still screaming. “GUNS! BANDITS! FIRE! AHHHHHHHHH!” I dunno, at least one of those should have awakened the locals, right? There was the sound of buzzing as bullet hit the door, swinging the unlatched sheet open. A few penetrated the curvy metal, bouncing around inside the room with deceptively quiet *tink*s. Then the door opened and the bullet swept back and forth. It was strange, but I couldn't hear the sound of gunfire. Surely I wasn't screaming that loudly. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Ah, there it is. As if by chain reaction, more guns began upening up, a cacophony of sounds mixing into the sounds of a warzone. Small, fast gunfire mixed with the slower, loud percussion of rifles. Interspersed was the BANG of a shotgun going off. Celestia's tits, this was going to hell damned fast. I mean, there is hearing about fighting a few bandits and then there is HEARING a fight with a few bandits. The sound was overwhelming, within minutes my ears could hear little but the waves of gunfire. Minutes!? It couldn't have been that long... I realized my little room was no longer under fire. I risked a quick peek over the blankets to see out the door. The entire city was lit up by bright floodlights hanging above the buildings. The area directly ahead of me seemed clear enough, but I could see flashes reflected off the buildings. I peeked my head out and searched for a better spot to bunker down in. Across the dirt street was one of the metal prefabs. Its metal garage-like door was open and the interior lit by a dying bulb. Not particularly better than where I was, unless I could get that door shut. If I could though, nothing short of an explosive would get through the thick barrier I had to give the Rubblites props, they knew how to fortify a town. I was hesitant though. Suppose I couldn't get the door closed. Running across the street would put me in the open and I had No idea as to the danger that could pose. Of course, if the fight went bad this little shack would be less than worthless. Still pondering, I noticed something which changed my mind. A gun was hanging on the back wall of the house, in between gardening implements and brooms. I couldn't tell what is was from this distance, but any type of armed was better than nothing. I poked my head out once more, gave a quick look around, and then bolted for the open doorway. I got a few steps in before the first whizzing bullet passed through my mane. I couldn't even here the discharge over the other sounds of battle, and nopony was in sight. Sniper? I dodged a bit to the left and right. Just as I reached the door, another bullet whizzed by, accompanied by a burning pain in my back leg. I stumbled the last two steps into the safety of the house and feel to the floor behind a workbench. Gun first, then leg. I looked up at the gun hanging on the wall. I moved to stand on three legs and reached out, knocking it with my nose but failing to grab it. I collapsed. Ok, leg first. Let's see, bleeding, but not too badly. I needed to wrap it soon though. The bullet had cut a furrow in the back of my leg, but it wasn't deep enough to fully cut the muscle. I'd still be able to walk when it healed, thank Celestia. Ok, cloth. Clean cloth. So many drawers before me, one must contain Something. There are times in my life where I've hated myself. Most of the time it's only a mild dislike, like when my luck decides I haven't screwed anything up in a while. Or when someone blames me for an accident on principal. But there are time when the dislike turns into full fledged self loathing, a good example being right about now. “Fucking broken horn! Open the damned shelves. I, the one you are attached to, orders it!” Yes, I realize that the normal method of unicorn/horn interaction does not involve unidirectional yelling matches. But you have to understand, my horn and I have a very special relationship. I don't try to focus to hard, and it doesn't give me three day migraines. It's a mutual non-aggression pact which is only occasionally broken when I REALLY need a gun and can't move to GET the damned thing myself. “Come on, come ON. Just a little kinetics, PLEASE.” I focused my will as Noon Shine had taught me, pushing at it for a bit of glow, so sort of movement, Something. I could feel the headache building, but damn I would succeed this time. I scrunched my eyebrows and focused on magicy thoughts, but to no avail. My concentration was broken by a THUD nearby. I looked over my shoulder to see a metal apple rolling along the floor. “What the Hay?” The apple beeped twice, then jumped into the air and exploded into balls of flaming liquid which pored downward. I was surprised and had the apple not been on the other side of the room, I would no doubt have been melted as well. As it was, I ducked under the workbench as the fire spread to the few pieces of wood in the room. The shelving when up instantly and the table began to heat up as the liquid burned atop it. With a crash, the things on the wall began to fall, flaming brooms and burning mops knocking against the table. Please, please... YES! The gun fell too and I grabbed the metal contraption to pull it toward me. My hooves burnt on the hot steel as a slid it toward the door and began to follow it out. Again, magic would nicely useful to pick up a hot gun, but at some point I was going to have to take the pain and deal with it. I blew on my hooves for a second before putting the gun into my mouth. It was big to be trying to hold that way, but I would need all my remaining legs to move, so I had no choice. With difficultly, I raised my head and walked out into the firefight. The corner was clear, but who knew where that sniper pony was. The light killed any chance I had of spotting him on the dark hills to the east, or anywhere outside the town for that matter. Instead of proceeding down the street, I turned around the corner of the house and walked as best I could into the garden it shared with four other houses. The garden itself was empty, but I could see a pony hiding ahead in the few feet opening on the other side. Hiding and shooting, I amended as the area in front of him lit up. I couldn't really tell which side the stallion (definitely a stallion) was on; he wasn't one I recognized. The flashing light didn't give me a good idea of his clothing, but I did notice spikes sticking out of his barding. Heehee, so you thought I was safely dispatched to turn our back so nicely. We'll see about that. I pointed my head precisely and fumbled with the trigger. It tasted nasty, like Oil and gunpowder, but that was hardly unexpected. Finally, to my surprise, I hit it correctly and a spray of bullet rushed toward my enemy. Ok, ouch. This thing kicked like an applebuck to the mouth and my accuracy was instantly shot. Bullets ricocheted around the stallion who, stuck between surprise fire and a coverless area, choose to run out into the open. I barely got my eyes back down in time to see him hit twice in the side, the rounds penetrating his barding and throwing him to the ground. Was of a good stallion, that, no that I felt bad of getting the bastard killed. I moved up to his firing spot, peeking out in to what seemed to be the majority of the fight. One one side, firing out of their houses were a couple of Rubblites. Plume had a rifle too and was putting her Security training to use. On the otherside were five raiders. They hugged behind buildings mostly, one was up in the water tower, using his long sniper to keep the locals pinned. All of them were out of my range, however; firing would give away my position and do little else. As I watched though saw Plume take aim an put a bullet through the snipers head. He fell backward as his gun tumbled over the edge. I took a few steps back from the corner. Better to find a way around to the Rubblite line. That or maybe I could flank the pricks and give something back. I turned around and went back into the yard. Something was off. I looked around, saw nothing, but then heard the snap of a plant to my right. I turned in time to be facing the oncoming shovel. I went down hard and blacked out. I woke up in the dark. Same night? Next day? Maybe we were just inside. I had no way to know. I moved around. My rear legs had been cuffed at the ankle, but my forelegs seemed fine. Okay, either somepony's got a nasty kink or I'm in enemy territory. Resource check. My Pipbuck was still online and seemed unharmed. It registered that I was wearing cuffs and had no other inventory. Great help that. It also pointed out that my back leg was “at 50% health.” It did still throb, but somepony had rapped it. Friendly or enemy? I felt around the small... cell. Yep, definitely enemy, unless Mayor Mare had run out of beds suddenly. Ok, time for some preemptive strategy. The cuff wouldn't be much use, but if I could get some pony on the ground maybe. I wish I had taken that personal defense class. Most of what I could come up with was from the few actions flics the Overmare showed. I mean, I suppose I could choke somepony with the chain, but how the hell was I supposed to get them in a position where that would be even remotely possible? My deliberation was cut short but approaching hooves. Ok, tackle and choke it is. I prepared to jump as the door opened... And instantly reconsidered as the first thing through the door was a nasty looking gun barrel. Plan B it is; meek and worthless. Three ponies entered, two in barding and carrying rifles. The third was a blue-gray unicorn floating a suitcase next to himself. “... and damned Maskers couldn't even take down twenty back-country ponies! With the silencers and that sniper, they should have been able to drop a minor Enclave outpost, let alone that backwash. And only one prisoner! I heard six ponies came out of the Stable and they could only find one! I swear, we have got to stop working with amateurs.” “Indeed, sir” mumbled one of the guards. He eyed me meaningfully. “Oh, don't worry about that one. We'll have her memory wiped after this is done. So, morning honey.” He looked me over, backed in the corner of the room as I was. “If you wouldn't might terribly, I'd like to ask you a few questions about Stable 56.” One of the guards set a chair down and motioned for me to sit. “In here?” I asked, looking around. “Seems a bit cramped.” “Yes, well, there isn't a better place right now. Unless you'd like to hold this outside with the raiders ogling you?” It was suddenly apparent I was the only pony not wearing clothes. “I thought not.” He nodded to the guards and they left the room. It was dark again, but then the unicorn lit his horn, a bluish glow illuminating the room. The unicorns face was kept in shadow, however; somehow he was angling the light to point only toward me. Skilled unicorn, check. He opened his mouth to speak, only his outline and the bobbling of his horn showing the movement. “Now, I'm a nice unicorn most days, but I really need some straight answers today. Toward that end, I'm going to cast a spell on you. Don't worry, it won't hurt. And afterward you'll be released into the Waste, free as you like. Of course, I'll have to make sure you forget this conversation as well, but that won't hurt either, so don't worry at all.” He flashed me a charismatic smile. “Now, the spell will work better if you cooperate, of course. If you do not, I might be forced to use other techniques to keep you in line. Neither of us would like that.” He flipped his suitcase open a removed a notebook, pencils, and a beautifully bound book. “A spellbook, really. Don't you find that a bit archaic?” I asked. He shook his head sadly, “You aren't the first pony to say that, but you'd be surprised how much we can still learn from the old texts. Now then, Lets begin.” The glow on his horn doubled as a layer of overglow formed. There was No way I was going to let this happen. I jumped forward. Guards gone, Tackle plan activate. I got about halfway out of my seat before another layer of overglow appeared and I was lifted off the floor. Then a Fourth layer appeared. Dear Celestia and Luna, how the hell did he get that much power! Small beads of sweat were appearing on his brow, but he was holding all four layers stable. “oh... okay.” Yep, definite strain. Not that it helped me in the least. With magic of my own there was no way to stop him. “I've stopped any magic you could try, so don't try” In his state, even a minor power might have broken one of his spells. Of course, he could just drop the light spell and you'd still be screwed, but his asking was fairly transparent. “Now, to start with, what defenses does your Stable have against invasion.” A sort of wave passed over me as he asked. It was calming, like a nice massage, and I suddenly felt much more at ease with the stallion. I wondered idly why he would ask as I said, “one hundred security ponies armed with shocksticks and tonfas. The are some turrets in the interior of the vault door. Also, there is a small armory on the second floor with twenty of so guns. Nopony has been in there in years, but supposedly they all work. Do we need more than that?” “Please don't ask questions, just answer. Now, how many ponies live inside.” “Six hundred, but sometimes it goes higher. Anytime somepony has a baby we have to throw another pony out to keep it balanced. I got thrown out this time. They didn't like me much inside, I caused too much trouble. Do you like me?” I hoped so. I didn't like all the mean ponies. “Stop, with the questions. Now, when exactly to they release the extra ponies.” His light spell started to go out, but the other spells emit enough to keep the room visible. “Well, once every year. Its the same day every year, the Exploration Day. It's a very happy day, but everypony is sad too, because the explorers never come back. Are you feeling well mister, you don't look to good?” “I'm fine, now stop asking q... questions!” His voice didn't sound very nice. I don't think he liked me... “Why?” “Because the true spell goes both ways it could... STOP ASKING QUESTIONS! The spell should be keeping you calm, damn it.” Yep, definitely a mean pony. I hated mean ponies. “I don't want to stop and you can't make me.” “Oh, don't bet on it.” I dropped to the ground suddenly. “I'll just have to punish you for being such a bad pony.” My coat started to itch suddenly, but... something wasn't right. Why was the bad pony asking me about the Stable? Why did he keep yelling at me? What was he trying to punish me? Slowly my confusion solidified. It didn't matter, he was being mean. It was his magic that was doing all this stuff to me. The itch, the truth thingy. No, it needed to “STOP!” He jumped with surprise, but the itching kept building into a weak pain across my whole body. Well if he wouldn't stop... I pushed forward. His lift spell had been turned into a barrier which blocked my way, but I didn't give up. I pushed harder and slowly my hooves began to slide through. It was like pushing through jello, but as I just my hooves father in it started to soften. Soon I was walk-swimming toward him, the pain building. He struggled to keep his face composed as I moved through his no-longer solid magic. The sweet face from his entrance was twisted into rage. He focused to bring forth another barrier behind his previous. I ran into it, now bathing in his magic, but it stopped me. I had to end this somehow. If I didn't I'd be writhing on the ground. Already my legs shook. But what... I didn't have magic... That small thought was all it took and twenty years of unused magic came to the fore. My horn, so long dormant, blazed into a black glow. Glow is the wrong word perhaps; the black was more like an ink, seeping out and swirling in the air. Where it touched the blue magic it began to mix with it. The swirling chaos moved down from my horn inside the wall, and when it reached my hooves the solid mass disappeared. Like an acid, my magic began to eat at the other. Where it touched me, the pain disappeared; where it touched the wall, it dissolved. I would have spent more time being impressed if there hadn't been a stallion in need of a serious ass-kicking in front of me. The fucker had tried to mind control me! He'd dared to put me under bonds and threaten me. I'd show him some threat! “Oh... oh shit.” He started at me wide eyed, the triple glow of his horn slowly fading with the presence of his magic. “guards. GAURDS!” He stumbled backward to grab the door, fumbled trying to open it, and then kicked it with all his strength. The buck bent the door, but achieved no more than to lock it in place. A dark smile lit my face. “It about time my luck hit someone else. No, lets have a little talk, yes? I promise it won't hurt unless you struggle.” My anger and rage built and the black fog built with it. The last of the blue sparks were engulfed and darkness fell. My wild pounding of the unfortunate buck was ended but the guards finally shooting down the door. It was much to late for their leader by that point. I'd smashed down onto his chest to flatten his ribcage. Pieces of his bone sat like splinters in my hooves and his blood covered my front and face. My cuffs had been of use after all, a lengthy process of pulling them across his neck have split ended when his spine snapped and his head lay broken to the side. The guards, seeing their charge dead, opened fire. Point blank range, I should have been dead, but the black fog pored out the door and clouded their vision. With the lights of fire and metal streaming past, I ducked between them and passed behind. I kicked out the back legs of the one on the left, and as he fell grabbed the pistol from his saddle. The black fog clarified at my gaze and I saw the second turning to see my form rising from the smoke. This time there was no difficulty or hesitation; I put a bullet through his head, then fired twice more. The other buck, scrambling at my feet, received the rest of the clip. Finished, I tossed the wasted gun away and lifted their rifles in my magic instead. I turned to look out at a milling crowd of bucks and mares, clad in spiked barding and hockey masks. One by one, they aimed there weapons elsewhere. “The name's Nightmare. Welcome to the Wasteland.” SS4: Introduction of Ru57Level 1 energy report: Array 1: <1% Array 2: <1% Array 3: <1% Array 4: <1% Array 5: 2.4% Array 6: <1% Array 7: 14.7% Threshold reached. Initiate level 2... Level 2 status report: Battery Level: 0.07% + .00063% per min. Cooling system: minimally functional Core function: minimally functional Stage 1 memory: 27% intact startup v*memory_fix_1 at high priority Evaluation: Stable. Initiate level 3... >--------------------------------------------------< So many years ago, that great war. Ponies, realizing the power of coal, started down the road of industrial revolution with a fury. To feed the growing demands, made a pact with the zebra tribes to the south. Coal for jewels was the agreement and with that trade both prospered. Convenience and innovation became the key points of the new societies. New and bigger, the ponies and zebra pushed their respective sciences to their limits, and when they reached those limits, they invented new ones. But not all that is new is good. So high did they climb with their technology and advancement that they left their old morals behind. Soon the push for more and better became to great, the demand outstripping supply for both civilizations. And when peaceful methods failed, the new concept of war was employed. At first limited, with the tragedy of Shattered Hoof neither side wished for peace. The war became a good thing, something to be continued, a unifying beacon by which progress was spurred and advancement directed. And in the end, their advancement did save some of them from the destruction they had created. The mutual destruction which was sure to come fell most heavily on Equestria, but the ponies had prepared. A small number escaped total annihilation by hiding in Stables, beneath the now scorched land. For a time, Equestrian soil lay empty, only the wayward ghoul able to live on. The Equestrian Waste was a desolate place. What few towns existed were spread distant from one another. Barely traveled roads spanned the distances between them, bisecting the burnt face of the once green countryside. Between these lanes laid lawless expanses of irradiated fields and blasted crags. What animal life remained became mutated beyond previous recognition. It was in this land that Ru57 spent his first two decades. A lonely robot, made for a battle that ended without him. His programming did not allow him to stop with it, so he hunted on. When zebra proved to be in short supply, new targets were found: rad-roachs, mmmmm, and zombies. It was a long time before he could tell ghouls and zombies apart; one ran away from him, the other toward. The wastelands emptied around him, either by his gun or their own will. Still, Ru57 walked on, through mud and dirt and snow. >--------------------------------------------------< Level 3 report: RFleg: immobile. LFleg: immobile. RBleg: immobile LBleg: 10% mobility. Attempting motion in LBleg... Level 1 reports array 7 @ 23% power. Repeating. Level 1 reports array 7 @ 25% power and array 5 @ 3% power. Repeating... Level 3 report cont.: Core function @ 13%. Stage 1 memory: 47% intact. Pending v*memory_fix_1... Primary motherboard integrity... confirmed Initiate Level 4. Level 4 report: Primary sensor grid: 10% intact Secondary sensor grid: 17% intact. Stage 2 memory: 10% intact. startup v*memory_fix_2 at high priority Internal generator: nonfunctional Secondary generator: nonfunctional Evaluating options ... ... ... ... ... Conclusion reached. Initiate level 2 internal clock, 100 tick timer. Starting internal repair talisman on battery power... pulse power as per counter. Level 2 report battery holding stable over time... continuing. Initiate Level 5. >--------------------------------------------------< As all machines do, Ru57 began to wear down. An internal repair talisman cannot fix everything. Nor did his programming require he power it for the long period that would have been required. Ru57 learned slowly, when at all, and it wasn't something he noticed. After all, with his kill count it was expected to have some damage. In fact, his kill count was far beyond his programmed expectations, a success, to be sure. Eventually, though, even he was forced to admit a need for help. His solar cells had become covered in dust, not something the talisman could fix. Normal wear and tear were fine, but near constant sand scouring and intermittent rain were damaging things that could not be repaired. He had been made for sun and battle, not the hard conditions that existed then. It took a while for Ru57 to locate a suitable site. My ponies simply ran if he approached their town. Other began firing on him, which usually ended with them dead and him continuing to break. Eventually, fed up with so much failure, he began attempting other variations of the situation. Once, he shot first, while asking for help. Another time he sneaked into town at night, and waited in the center to ask. But it wasn't until, running short of ideas, he came to a giant city and just refused to leave. He asked the guard, who wouldn't let him in, for help, but was told no. So he sat in front of the guard office asking for help once every day. Then once an hour, and then once a minute. They tried to push him, but they could not move something of his weight. When they brought ropes, he very precisely shot them to pieces. Then they tried at night, no knowing, perhaps, that he stored solar power in a battery for night work. They tried shooting him in the end, but he simply ignored the bullets. It was unlikely he would make it to another town anyway. Finally, the guard brought the mayor. After a very careful discussion about times of departure and costs for support given, a bargin was struck and Ru57 was brought to the best mechanic in the area. Eighty years of dust and carbon scoring were removed, a nice oil bath taken, and he was let on his way. Ru57's portion of the bargain was twofold. First, to clear out a nearly Stable which had been troubling the townsfolk. Secondly, he was to leave to immediate area, not to return for fifty years. This seemed fair to him. He was, no doubt, the best fighter in the area, so the clearance should naturally fall to him. It was unlikely he would need another maintenance in the next fifty years, so the option of returning was not removed either. >--------------------------------------------------< Level 5 final report: Level 1 through 4 operating correctly. Core functional Memory Stages 1 and 2 functional Memory Stage 3 attempting recovery Sensors minimally functional Internal generators, nonfunctional Solar panel dependance cleared Memory Stage 1 and 2 backed up onto Stage 3. Memory Stages 1 and 2 cleared All systems ready for Core boot. Initiate stage 6. Level 6 initiated successfully. Activating sensor banks. High pressure along front, side, and top sensors. Zero pressure along rear sensors. Slight motion noted along back left flank, pattern matches wind. Medium temperature along all sensors. Noise levels at -10 deci-Bucks. Air composition shows large deviation from norms: +2% Rust -.3% Oxygen -1.7% Nitrogen Electrical field minimal. Magnetic field nominal. North located. Magical field minimal. Pressure readings suggest potential urgency... Initiate Level 7. >--------------------------------------------------< The Stable was numbered 24. Stable-Tec records listed it as an 'experimental' Stable, which could mean anything. Most Stables were labeled experimental, only a few labeled control instead. Further information was classified. Ru57 noted the motions in the ventilation, the slight sounds only audible do to the silence they interrupted. He continued deeper into the Stable, looking for an access point. He located multiple. At each one he followed the same procedure. Open and spray in both direction before the abominations could run. He left the covers off, in the hopes that a few stupid individuals might exit the vents. Eventually he came to the atrium. Rotten flash covered the ponies along the floor, holes blown out along their bodies. At first Ru57 suspected large caliber weaponry, but it proved to by some sort of biological problem. More importantly, the small beasts were starting to gather. Where as he'd seen a few previously, now a population of forty seven grouped. Smart enough for a combined assault? Indeed, they came forward en mass. His energy rifle opened up, splitting scaly bodies left and right. Plenty made it to him, but their fangs and claws had no effect on his metal body. Accurately and efficiently, he dispatched the rest. As he left, Ru57 closed the door to the Stable. Even the few left would die from starvation, assuming nopony opened the door again. He considered informing the mayor, but kept to the contract. Again he was off, looking for new enemies. >--------------------------------------------------< Level 7 initialized. Weapon status, in-operational. Visual status, low operational. Combat status, low. Avoid combat of danger 2 or greater Visual analysis begun... Zero light conditions noted, Visual analysis ended. Minor neck motion has not cleared vision. Initiate Level 8 for further instructions. Level 8 initiated successfully, starting new log. Internal clock mistake (beyond bounds) noted, restarting. Log Date: 00000000y:000000000d:00000h:000000m:000010s Warning: Massive memory loss due to oxidation. Warning: Large amounts of data lost during reboot. Log: All operation critical data saved, most operation dependent data saved. Warning: Nearly all non-essential data lost or dropped during reboot. Warning: sensors reporting failure. Danger: generators reported as failing. Warning: potential danger in area. Log: All systems clear for high-level restart. Initiate Level 9. >--------------------------------------------------< Ru57 wandered for another forty years, now much more careful about his own maintenance. He collected a set of saddlebags, in which he began to carry extra components, stripped from defeated mechanical targets. One of his eyes went out, and he spent a full month attempting to make another. Later, a knee servo snapped. Unable to find a suitable replacement, he modified both his rear legs to take a more severe model he could find. No as efficient, but undoubtedly more powerful. He spent those years skirting the edge of the Mojave, eventually coming to the western edge. Here he reached the edge of his map. Attempts to access the central database were unsuccessful; the local radio towers had decayed as well. He chose to go South, rather than continue without or return the way he'd come. Into the Mojave the lone robot walked. His end came suddenly. Walking along the base of a canyon, a rock wall gave way. Ru57 dodged the first boulder, and the second, but the continued barrage forced him to toward the crumbling cliff. Eventually he could dodge no longer and was caught beneath a way of rock and silt. When his attempts at movement proved ineffective, the robot closed down, leaving only his lowest process monitoring incoming energy. He hoped that the panels might one day be uncovered and power restored, allowing him to walk the Wasteland once more. >--------------------------------------------------< Level Nine active. Checking logs... come to alert. Potential danger. Sensors indicate high pressure. Low power noted. Attempting to back into clear area. Activate rear leg servos at full. Checking... increased movement achieved. Reversing... Pressure dropping along front sensors. Continue... Pressure dropped to reasonable on front and side sensors, top sensors still report high pressure. Activate visual and scan. Rubble obstructions present. Attempt climbing pattern... Immediate danger averted. Initiate Level Ten. >--------------------------------------------------< A rock drops from the canyon wall, taking a layer of sand with it. In the sliding sand, a metal surface gleams. It protrudes of the hill slightly, the sand settling around it. Then a shaking and the sand picks up speed again. More and more of the surface is revealed, the plated rear end of a pony-shaped robot. Noses begin to sound within, electric crackle and magical powering. Suddenly, the legs kick and sand is thrown in every direction. More and more, the mound slides down. Then the metal disappears, sliding further into the sand. For minutes, nothing. Then the metal head appears, now much higher, coming from between two rocks. The body follows soon after. Rust orange, sand still sliding from its metal hide, the pony survey the surroundings. The last of the sand finally slips off, revealing the engraving that stood in place of a cutie mark. Ru57 finally stands again. >--------------------------------------------------< Level Ten Initialized. Welcome back, Ru57. Log Date: 0000y:000000000d:00000h:110011m:100110s Location: Unknown (map corrupted) Objective: Unknown (memory corrupted). Defaulting to 'Discover Previous Objective'. I looked across the desert waste to the North. I couldn't remember much... I'd taken heavy damage to long-term memory. But I thought I'd come from the desert. I had plenty of memory space purportedly allocated to those memories. The path went North-South, with a mountain to the east and the canyon to the west. I turned South and considered. It looked similar to the north, but less sand and more dried dirt. I couldn't see far due to the path's curve and the intervening mountains. I needed repairs. I added that to my Objective list. I also needed weapons, now the third objective. The desert to the north had been... empty? My map was nonfunctional... I had no way to be sure. Just the corrupted shadows of memories hinting Not worth returning to. Better to head South. I took one last scan of the area, charting the geography add mapping it to my memory. Better to have a local scan than nothing at all. Content, I proceeded South, determined to get in a few miles before the sun set and I was forced to stop. Once more for the Princess and Equestria's honor. >--------------------------------------------------< Eventually the sun dropped behind the mountains and I was forced to battery power. I put in another 3 miles before that had reached dangerously low levels. Having little other choice, I set myself down on the far East edge of the trail and shut down, waiting for the morning sun. It was with much surprise that I reawakened. My lower levels had been perturbed by something. Level 7 report: Danger: Magical field approaching. Magical Power: low-grade megaspell. Well, that would do it. A Zebra superweapon tends to override anypony's idea of 'safe'. I lit my eyes and stared at the path. A white figure, pony sized, approached. My eyes were malfunctioning... I could not determine much about it. Probably carrying the megaspell. I checked my power (Battery Level: 0.57). Enough for maybe one good applebuck off the edge. I'd have to be careful about power use though. I turned off my eyes, relying on my field detector to keep tabs on the ponies location. It stopped a few feet in front of me. Damn, I'd hope to attack when the pony was forced to pass between me and the canyon drop. Other options... “Not be alarmed, my good robot. I mean you no harm.” The light, lilting voice was... comforting? Vocal analysis needed a Serious retune if it thought a megaspell-carrying pony was trying to be comforting. I replied from where I lay. “I doubt your words. Please, citizen, maintain a twenty foot distance while I decide upon a course of action.” The white pony backed up. Damn, what did I say! Somewhere between my thoughts and my speech centers a wire or two was crossed. My speech processing units duly informed me that I was speaking unintelligible gibberish. From her new position, the pony began again. “I will need your help soon. If you continue along this path, you meet a strange little pony. Help her, and she will help you find repairs. Once you are ready, look for my symbol. I have a great deal for you to do.” I began again. “I fear I cannot aid you, my lady, for by my oath to Equestria I must defeat all those found carrying megaspells. Prepare yourself.” Again, she was backing up! I would have to do this quickly. I got to my feet and ran at her full tilt. With a leap, my servoes screeching, I tackled... thin air. I was so surprised I quit paying attension to my landing, but level 9 took over at the last second to keep me from falling off the cliff. Now below minimum power, I shut down all systems accept for auditory. I set it to record and dropped to level 4. I'd hear the words when the sun rose. Assuming I was still intact... Level 4 routing all audio to Level 8 logging buffer. Level 2 reports battery at: 0.22% -.00002%/minute Forced shutdown of Level 4 in 3 hours... SS5: Introduction of Plumemmmmm stood with his head pressed agianst the metal door to the infermary. His wife, mmmmm, was inside. So to, he hoped, was his first son or daughter. The sound had died down... that was good right? But no crying. Was the baby ok? It should be crying, right? He struggled for a moment, considering breaking down the door. It would be difficult, but that wasn't the point. He needed to know! “Mister mmmmm! Please take a seat!” The nurse shouldered him off the door and into a seat. Then she went inside, shut the door in his face before he could glimpse inside. “I want to see my wife. I should be allowed in. Maybe if I go find somepony... no. What If they come out while I'm gone! Oh goodness, something must be wrong.” The worried stallion gnawed at his hooves. Finally the door opened again. The nurse nodded to him as she walked out, gesturing to him with a hoof. “well? Go see!” The mare's oddly disapproving tone bounced right off the potential father he bounded in, tripping over his questions. “Is she, everything, alive, happy, good, yes?” Doctor Twoheart raised an eyebrow and nodded to the already sleeping baby and smiling mother. “Congratulations,” he said. “You are the father of Stable 56's first pegasus.” Growing up as a pegasus in a world designed for only earth ponies and unicorns was awkward, in a blaring obvious, trumpet blast to the face sort of way. Everyone had heard about me, of course. The Chosen 500 radio channel took care of that before I'd eaten my first meal. My rather public flight around the atrium my second year kept everyone well aware. I don't even remember the darn think; my first memory is my mother tying my wings down before sending me to class, years later. It wasn't until my eighth year that they finally quit doing that, more because I'd outgrown even the atrium than because they trusted me. By that point, I was used to checking earth pony on forms. As nice, kind, and goodhearted as my parents were, they never quite came to terms with my wings. They were Stableborn. for them, average was the only safe place to be. They constantly worried about me being picked on or treated unequally, but I think they were more worried for themselves. I never had problems with teachers or friends; I was smart enough not to show off. It was only when my parents intervened that I really had problems. They pushed their worries onto others, forced them to assume the role. By my thirteenth year I was ready to get out. The fastest path to get out of school was security. Not because they wanted dumb ponies, rather the opposite. The security ponies were some of the best trained, often working both as security and in another position, and they had additional schooling which kept me out of the house. Even more important, students were given first priority on new rooms. I worked hard to start at the top of my class and was awarded with my own room my fifteenth year. Security had another benefit to it, one I hadn't anticipated. Security ponies had a respect from the Stable crowd. Ponies started looking at my barding rather than my wings. It was specially modified to minimize their profile of course. It was at the end of my Security training that I first aspired to something greater. My teacher, good old One Eye, shook my hoof at the graduation cerimony. He nodded to my wings and said kindly, “so, you have any plans to use those?” I was pushed off the stage by the next graduate, and thus had two days to think of a response before I could talk to him again. “Yes. Can you teach me how?” The veterine laughed. “You're still thinking like a student, Plume. Think like an Officer. Where inside this Stable can you put your wings to work?” “Well... I can't really think of a place, sir. Maybe if somepony tried to pull something in the atrium, but otherwise...” “Good, you've got the point then. Nowhere inside will do. So, what are your other options.” “Um, I suppose there is the outside, sir. But nopony volunteers to go outside! Beside, what would my parents think.” “Well, I don't know what they'd think. And in the case of your future, I don't really care. They've done their best to protect you from imagined threats, but it was you who got yourself into Security. It was your determination and skill that got you the recognition you wear. So you'll forgive an old stallion for beleiveing it's you who will find yourself a place to be fully you.” “It was you who brought this up,” I noted rhyly. “Why, so it was. I'm known to have good ideas from time to time.” One Eye winked. “If you're interested, meet me in my office this afternoon. We can call it post-graduate study if you like.” I began studying directly under One Eye. I read every book we had on Equestria and Phoenix, the nearest town. Many were simple filly's books, others were detailed archiological maps and technical diagram. I read them and more, strange texts of the world after the war. The Wastelands, as it was called now. I've no idea how One Eye had obtained them and I didn't ask. They never left his study. One Eye taught me other things as well. He made mockups of animals out of protein bars and carpet so that I could learn to skin and cook. He brought out samples of plants, talked at length about their properties. He took me to the training room for sparing, where he taught me styles totally outside the normal for a Security officer. Techniques meant to maim and kill, do deal with armed opponents when unarmed, to deal with multiple attacks at once. I had trouble with it all. I wasn't all that smart, despite my grades; it was dedication that had earned me my place then and it was with dedication that I pulled through now. Slowly, I read, learned, and understood. Two years later, at the age of twenty, I volunteered for the Exploration Party. It was held once yearly. The extra population of the Stable was kicked out into the Wasteland under the pretense of scouting. None had come back, which scared me until One Eye explained. The Overmare had received plenty of messages that it was livable outside, but none to convince her it was safe. Our refuge relied on keeping the doors closed, and so we did. But I would not die the second I hit wasteland soil. One Eye, of course, laughed when I admitted the fear to him. “You really think I would have spent the last two years training you in all that if thought you'd die? I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place!” “And here all this time I thought I was the one who came up with going outside.” He's constantly reminded me of that 'fact' when I struggled with a form or thick text. “Well, I suppose you are right of course. My memory must be going.” He gave me another conspiritorial wink. The party was standard, as far as such things went. Few ponies besides the chosen seven were present. Of them, only myself and an earth pony named Recall had an family to say goodbye to. The Overmare chose smartly in that way. My Parents were both bawling, of course. Something about how their one child was leaving them. I tuned it out. If they'd wanted another child, they could have had one, but the two of them were to scared to 'have to play favorites'. Not that I didn't love them, but five year out of the house had not been enough time to entirely quell my dissatistfaction. One Eye, on the other hoof, was determined to spend the party quizing me and cramming any fact he might have forgotten into my head. I answered idly, getting darn near most of the questions correct. Reallizing my preoccupation, he gave up. “Worried about it.” “Nothing so concrete. Apprehensive, more like. I know I'm probably the best prepared pony to leave Stable 56 since its creation, but that doesn't alleviate my fear of something extraordinary happening.” “Oh, something will.” One Eye asserted certainly. “It all ways does. But you've go a brain about you and plenty of spunk. You'll see yourself through.” “You sound like I'm going to take a walk in your backyard. So, you've been there?” I'd never asked before, though he knew I suspected. I mean, where else do you get that much Wasteland related material? “Well know, that would be telling. I will say this. Don't be so sure you're the best prepared pony to leave Stable 56.” He gave me another wink, but before I could respond the Overmare to the stage and began proceedings. Even that wouldn't have stopped me, had I not been the first pony called up and congratulated. By the time I'd returned to my seat, One Eye had left. In his seat sat a note, and stack of books, and my barding. 'I bargained the Overmare into letting you take these out with you. Took quite plenty of pulled strings, lots of applied leverage, and a not insignificant quantity of Wonderglue. It's not the weaponry I was hoping for, but it will give you a definite advantage. As best you can, protect the others. Even if they won't travel with you, having companions living in the Waste can be a big help. And quit worrying! You're going to find your wings and I'd better hear about it when you do.' The note was unsigned, of course. The Exploration Day banquet was massive, as always. Explorers were given first choice of food and tradition dictated that they stuff themselves. Last meal of the dead and all. I ate until I was full, but no more. One Eye would have shot me himself if I'd done otherwise. The banquet ended and we were sent back to sleep one last night. Strange to have us eat so much, we'd just be hungry again in the morning. I had stolen enough scraps to fill myself in the morning too. I dreamed of flying that night. SS6: Introduction of OmniWhen the war first started, Queen Chrysalis knew within hours. The changeling spy network had spies on both sides, of course. We'd heard of the tensions over coal and gems, the hunger of both empires for their favored resource. In fact, a changeling had been directly involved drafting in the first trade agreement. The loosened borders agreement allowed us better access into zebra lands, and we spent the next 10 years studying them. But after the Massacre at Littlehoof, things started to go down hill. The casualties on both side spread grief throughout the kingdom of Equestria. The zebra side fared worse, their massive losses leading them to construct greater machinations to make up for lost soldiers. But sides focused their gaze more totally on the annihilation of their enemy. Hate and mourning reigned supreme. Those were bad times for the changeling race. The love which we needed to live off became more and more scarce. We were still having trouble feeding from zebra and soon our spies abroad were forced to return. The Queen looked into other options. Surely there was a source of love somewhere. But of those few places unaffected by the war, all were populated by races outside our ability to emulate. It would take generations of breeding to become compatible, but we didn't have the time. Bereft of other options, our Queen reduced the size of the swarm. When shortages continued, she called in the only contact she had left, a past enemy who just might have the heart to help the dying race. The meeting between Queen Chrysalis and Princess Celestia was carried out in the utmost secrecy. By this point in the war, Luna held the throne, but Celestia's knowledge of the workings of the new government was significant. Somehow, a pact was formed. Changelings were given secret positions in the Ministries of Peace and Moral. In the ministry of Peace, they took the form of loved ones to comfort patients. Their love was enough to sustain the agents, and in turn others in the swarm. Of course, the agents were closely monitored by the ponies. Authorization was not given without long deliberation. Any changeling caught in an unplanned visit was sent back, and soon the Queen had to rein in her subjects before they broke all trust. In the ministry of Moral, changeling agent were given two taskes. Some were charged with infiltration of suspect groups. Here, our previous skill as spies was put to best use, and soon Pinkie Pie herself commanded the most elite group. Our other command was to replace ponies secretly in custody. While both were chellenging, enjoyable work, neither provided the level of love which the swarm required. The swarm continued to shrink. The Queen was desperate, but there simply wasn't enough left in a wartorn world to support our race. Our numbers dropped to ten thousand, then five thousand. The end of our race looked near. The Queen, in a last attempt, laid eggs for one hundred new queen. Such a thing was not done. Normally, even a dying queen would lay only five, to let them struggle for dominance. In this way the race was made stronger. But the hundred eggs were laid, each covered in a thick web and the queen-to-be put into a deep sleep. The eggs were given to the remains of our spies and spread throughout the lands of Equestria and zebra-kind. With love, the eggs would open and the new Queens emerge. Until then, each egg would sleep for centuries, a millennium if necessary, as long as it took for ponies and zebras to reestablish themselves. Then the Queen prepared to fight us to fight to the last one, hoping to scratch a out a survival. The bombs fell. The ponies disappeared into their stables, the zebra retreated back into their land. A very few changeling made it into Stables under false identities, but it was obvious that the lifeweb which bound us together would soon fail. It was then that Queen Chrysalis realized her mistake. The swarm was built around her, its purpose to do her wish. The swarm of the Changeling had always been centered on a Queen, just as our lifeweb was centered in her being. Without her, the current swarm would die; but the eggs had been laid to make future swarms. This constant matriarchy had caused her to forget one thing... even a Queen needs mates. With hours left to live, the Queen performed her final spell. She took her life and shattered the lifeweb, but by doing breaking it intentionally she achieved what no Queen had before. The males were left alive after the death of their queen. The loss of the lifeweb hurt immensely, and their ability to fed from their fellow in the Stables was lost. But with this abandoning came a new freedom to act independently and to die independently. The Queens last wish echoed in our hearts. Live on, my sons, as many of you as can. Find the eggs, nurture them, and bring back our race. Do whatever it takes. -Excerpt from The Verbal History of the Changelings, as recorded at Tenpony Tower one hundred years after the war. The first 20 years after the war had not been that bad. Yes, the radiation was terrible and you had to stay to the mountains. But for the most part, the Wastes were devoid of the horrors which came later. The radiation monsters and the enervation fields hadn't spread yet. The raiders and psychos weren't really out in force yet. On the whole, the Wastelands was mainly deserted. Not that deserted was any less deadly to my kind. We spread out, trying not to fight over reasources. A few settled down in the valleys between the old Equestria and zebra lands. The hill folk there still lived and the radiation wasn't bad. I arrived too late to secure myself a spot though. The temptation to fight over the remaining ponies was great, but our Queen's last message was strong. I left the lucky ones to their feast. Even more attempted to infultrate the Enclave. Many of our previous Ministry of Peace and Moral were able to use their old identities to get through the clouds (although quite a few added wings to their old bodies). Others of us tried to break through the cloud barrear, but less of us were successful there. After seeing a friend struck by lightning, I decided to move on to other prospects. Eventually I found a small settlement far to the north. The climate was freezing, especially for my race. My wings wouldn't work in the harsh landscape, so I took the for of an earth pony. For twenty years I was hungry, feeding off the edges of the camp's companionship. Finally, however, I had to leave. I could not age my copied body, so I left before suspicion forced me out. I returned south to find an Equestria regrowing. Regrowing in every way possible to an glowing dirt clod, that is. Rad roaches were everywhere. Rad-rats were the only mammal still around. Plants... nope. An still, the Wasteland was empty of food for my kind. I traveled south to the mountains, but if any of my kind remained in the Highland population, they did not recognize me. I lived there for ten years, in a small corner house. My cover was as a Stableborn, which turned out to be a mistake. The Highlanders never fully trusted me, in part blaming My Kind (stableborn, not changeling) for the war. Eventually I left there as well, never having made contact with a brother. I traveled east this time, finding nothing but ruins. This was the center of old Equestria. The mmmmm Forest was darker than ever. The pink cloud still spilled from Canterlot. Manehatten and Fillydelphia were nothing but waste. The farther East I traveled, the worse an idea this looked. Finally, I realized I could not make it back to the Highlanders. I had spent too much. On my last legs, I searched the landscape below for something and came upon a ghoul settlement. I had no idea wether it would be possible to fedd off them or not, but I had little choice. A changeling feeding off a ghoul is much like what I assume a pony feels when feeding off a corpse. There's something there to eat, of course; ghouls have bonds just as ponies do. Well, they are ponies, but you get my meaning. But their love is rotten, like they have just been repeating that love for years without any progression. Even their new relationships taste stale. And you can be sure that what you're feeding off is poisoning you somehow. Those were a bad few months. Every now and then I'd get sick and loss my ability to hold form. I'd have to hide myself for days, starving in the hope that I'd be well enough to feed soon. It was a vicious cycle that I'm sure would have killed me, if not for a newcomer to the camp. The blossoming new relationships were what originally pulled me out of my illness. The were fresh...er than the others. They were strong enough that I could feed on them without having to leave my one-room. I gathered my strength and one day made it out to meet the stranger. His name was Eternity and he was unlike anything I'd seen before. The zony wore metal wings which were screwed into his back. His stripes were orange, the product of a thirty year old re-coloration spell favored during the war. He carried himself with dignity and exuded self-confidence. More importantly, he was kind. He went among the ghouls, lending a hoof, giving appreciation and warmth. For me, he was like a twelve course banquet after 30 years of starvation. I nearly puked. He didn't plan on staying, of course, but neither did I. When he left, I accompanied him. Somewhat against his wishes, I'll admit, but I wasn't about to let him go. His happiness in the face of Wasteland dangers was astonishing. He had some unending inner hope which kept him going. Eternity and I traveled for thirty years. We battled monsters pony and otherwise. We suffered radiation sickness, enervation, and pink cloud. We looted mines and graves, offices and ministries. And everywhere we met ponies, we worked to make a better world. I'd told him what I was nine years after we met following a very suspisious breakout. I expected to be rebuffed, but he was more than accepting. We made use of my abilities after that; I'd seen and copied so many ponies by this point that I was practically a library of the Wastes. To often, the ponies whose form I took were dead. By the end, Eternity was pretty ripped up inside. Despite all the good we were doing, he couldn't deal with all the atrocities we'd had to commit. Massacres to make somewhere safe. Assisted suicides and witnessed rapes. Death haunted his thoughts too much. He thought of himself as a dying breed, one of many who needed to leave the Wasteland so that it could rise above the dark necessities. He was a optimist. I disagreed with him, sometimes violently. The stables were beginning to open, one by one. Someone needed to lead the new ponies, make sure they didn't repeat the mistakes they'd stayed locked on the other side of the door from. The raiders were subdued, but their ideas would always be present. But he was done with it all, content in what he'd accomplished and hopeful for a world without him. I'll admit, I loved him. The last twenty years, we had become lovers on occasion, but it was always a 'one time thing'. He had kept me happy and healthy far beyond the longest recorded age for my race (Queens excluded). He had taught me how to return love, how love strengthened when shared rather than drawn from. Eternity had introduced me to a world foreign to changeling kind. One day, he disappeared. I searched, of course, but Eternity was the best tracker in the wasteland. He his steps, had taken off in the opposite direction from his path, even bathed to hide his smell from my slightly more sensitive nose. I followed his path to the Ocean, but never found him. Perhaps he just kept flying into the beautiful sunrise... I returned to our camp to break the news to our traveling companions. They were all for continuing his previous mission, but I was done. I wanted to go find death myself, but I could not leave my race abandoned. For days I wept, until five days after the disappearance, a small robot approached me. I watched with interest as the flying bot traveled the flat, wasted land I sat in, definitely coming for me. That was how I first met Watcher. “I'm a friend of Eternity's. I've been watching you for almost forty years, from when you first returned to Equestrian lands. I've seen your dedication, and It tares at me to see you hopeless. I have something to show you...” The little bot opened and released Eternity's note to me. 'My Dear, I have decided to go on, but I do not wish you to stop your quest on account of me. I have a request for you, and two gifts.' 'First, a collection of my memories and a reader. I told you much of my past, but not everything. When you have time, use the reader. I hope you will understand after you've seen my life during the war.' 'Second, a copy of my research notes. My diary, if you prefer. There are sections on our friendship that I think you will find useful.' 'Lastly, I would ask that you not go back to your old ways of feeding on the unwilling. I am dead, yes, but there are many others out there. Find a new partner and nurture a relationship.' 'Celestia's blessings,' 'Eternity' It was hard, going on. I was aging in mind, if not in body. A certain depression and cynicism grew in me as I watched the Wasteland return in full force. The stable ponies bred, their offspring learning the methods of torture and insanity once again. The settlements we had built slowly crumbled, some by violence and some by neglect. The hope of a new Equestria dried-up. The new, struggling population was not the only change. New horrors began to emerge, the product of one hundred years of irradiation and breeding. The products of the Ministries' Projects, mutants and metal monsters, established themselves. Unity reared it's head, the Steel Ranger's rebuilt as recruits became available. The hand guns of the past gave way to larger calibers and explosives. Gangs formed and claimed land, raiders became more vicious and brutal. DJ Pon3's broadcast area shrunk to nearly nothing, the other stations died out entirely. I watched Eternity's memory, finding that I could take sustenance from them. But eventually they were depleted, their recordings gray and empty. I learned much about him, but nothing surprising. An assassination gone wrong had killed a few hundred zebra, due to a mistake on his part. Another incident, twenty dead. Accidentally causing the death of a Stable when he broke out into a poison cloud. Certainly there had been death on his conscious, but at no point could I okay the bastard's leaving me... His diary was less interesting in terms of story. What it did contain, the reason he had given it too me no doubt, was extensive notes on the changeling feeding and storage process. It wasn't much, but it gave me idea's. He had proved, for example, that the slow adaptation process carried out by the lifecycle of queens could be accelerated. In fact, it could be carried out by a single individual if giving time. In the margins, was a single note, my name attached. “If you try, you can learn to love anyone.” By this time, the Day of destruction was ninety years past. It had been eigthy years since I'd last seen another of my kind. The loneliness of the lost lifeweb, so long smothered, was slowly eating at my youth. It was then that I found a queen egg. Hiding from a Bloodwing, I backed into a cave to catch a whiff of the unique smell. The egg was planted in a wall farther in, its purple casing adhering to the stone. With care, I pulled it down and began a new chapter of my life. Another thirty years of famine, searching for a place to raise the queen. My mind was filled by my Queen's order; I fed when and where I could, ignoring Eternity's wishes. I sourced the Wasteland twice, from the coast to the Mojave and back, but no where was suitable. The levels of danger were too great for a growing queen, even in the most love filled sites. Finally, out of other choices, I brought the egg to the zombie city of Paradise (far to the northwest of the more commonly known town). There I warmed the egg, broke the web, hatched it. I still do not know what went wrong. Perhaps thirty years dragged through radiation and enervation had permeated the stasis. Perhaps the zombies lacked the sustaining companionship to feed to newborn queen. Perhaps the previously untested cocoon was not sufficient to hold an egg dormant for that long. Regardless, the queen came forth mutated beyond recognition. Her legs were stunted and bent, her head held too many horns. Her wings were flimsy and bled liquid. I could not kill her, but I refused to raise such a monster. I left the infant near death and fled. To this day, I wish I had just killed it. I heard, years later, than the entire city had been wiped out by some black monster. I can only assume she grew into maturity, but without a mate couldn't do any more than kill. The area was avoided for years afterward, and too this day I'm not sure of the false queen's fate. My involvement in Wasteland life was minor after that. I moved from town to town. Years of hunger had reduced my need to eat. I learned how to spend little energy, how to save up enough to move to another city. I ate from the fringes, from acquaintances and the infrequent friend. I wasn't until Flank that I started to remember my life with Eternity. I came into the town as I did any other: tired of life but unwilling to let go. Flank was fairly standard for the Hoof, a rundown collection of buildings economically centered around a few stores. The drug business was booming, with 5 mobs competing to addict the most ponies for the longest time. It was dangerous to be too involved, but I ended up setting up in Stable 69 (89, technically). It wasn't great. There isn't a lot of love going around, but there was plenty of happiness. Of the drugged out of your mind variety. Another new flavor, the aura of excess tastes sickly sweet. I was becoming a master disguise by this point, and I found work as a specialty consort. The Boss thought I was just good with makeup; I was careful to never go change too much in his presence. In the bedroom, though, I kept my clients happy, becoming whatever they desired. I prefected my disguises; after years I was able to emulate ponies based only on description, including details like cutie marks and freckles. It wasn't a good life, but it wasn't bad. It sheltered me from the Wastes. The drug cloud of enforced happiness might have affected my mind as well. The years became a decade, then two. Finally, the old Boss died and his son took over. A greedy twist, he took over by strong-hoof tactics and kept in power through beatings. He was powerful though. He knocked over one competator (there were seven by this point), then another. I looked like he would have a monopoly on the market with five years, so nopony was willing to leave his employ. We weren't treated great, by enemy personnel had it worse by far. At length, I'd had enough. One night, the bastard came to my room, hoping to have some fun. Wanted to beat his father, I could pull that look off right? He didn't notice the needle until he'd dropped. I hid the body and took his place. I emulated the cruelty well, and of course my appearance we perfect. No one questioned what had happened to the specialty whore, on my order. I made sure I had trust, and then I started to make changes. I stopped the beatings and kicked out half the twisted guards. I hired professionals and cleaned the place up. Sure, there was competition, but it wasn't so bad that mercilessness was required. I worked hard to make Flank a bit better. Even ponies deserve more. Maybe it was having gotten out of the bedroom and into the workroom that had cleared my head. One way or another, I'd changed. I barely felt like a changeling anymore. Most of the time, I just though of myself as a pony with some effective illusion magic. I started eating as if it was what was really sustaining me. Even as a pony, I wanted to get out of Flank. The despare that colored every emotion, the pain and death so close and constant. It was worse for me, I could feel the emotions of every pony around me. I have to get out, find somewhere better. I'd done all I could. I stepped down quietly after a few years. I handed control over to one of the consorts, an incredibly smart mare named Caprice. She had a business head like nopony I'd seen before. Last I heard, she had bought out half the competition and was browbeating the other half. I wandered aimlessly at first, but eventually I moves with purpose out to the Mojave. The crossing was difficult, bouncing from town to hovel, but the solitude was like a fast. I cleaned my body of two hundred years of toxins and waste. I focused my mind and considered the future. It is time to rebuilt the changling race. Pony kind has returned, and if anger runs high, so too does passion. There is sustenance for us again in Equestria. But this time, we will not fall into the pettiness of our past. I have learned from our mistakes. It was a mistake to try to feed by breaking bonds. It was a mistake to focus our entire race in a single, egotistical being. It was a mistake hold ourselves apart from our food, as if we were superior. I was a mistake to think of ponies as only a food source and not also a source of friendship. I will find another egg and raise the next queen. I will raise her with love, but apart from a society in which she might gorge. I will teach her my skills: near perfect replication, creating one's own masks, judging the emotions of others through taste, building a network of friendship with other races, and feeding off other races. I will teach her how to hold up one side of the bond of love without turning the other end into a chain. All of this I will teach her and when she is ready we will remake the changelings. This time, however, we will live with the ponies and zebras, among them, as friends and companions and lovers. Secure in myself and my quest, I reached the far side of the Mojave. Following a river south through the mountains, I came to Phoenix Valley and began my search. SS7: Introduction of MassacreGuns have been the life of my family since before I was born. Before the war even, if my father is to be believed. Back then, my great-great-(add some more)-great-grandfather was working in the Ministry of Wartime Technology. And my other great(s)-grandfather. And a few of my many times removed Grandmothers. Hell, I was probably related to a good third of that ancient Ministry. Earth pony ingenuity, back as far as you cared to trace. On my father's side anyway. He was a younger son of mmmmm, the head of mmmmm(Jakobs) industries. They'd taken every scrap of Wartime Technology documentation they could out of the Hoofington database many years ago and continued on. Their guns had the most 'Buck' of any on the market. They got the job done fast, and that prestige had kept mmmmm in the market for a good many years. Of course, firing one would announce your presence to everypony this side of the mmmmm(canyon, big) river. “No subtlety,” as my mother would say. My mother, on the other hand, was the heiress of mmmmm(Maliwan), a competing business run entirely by mares. Unlike mmmmm(Jakobs), they produced mostly specialty and niche weapons. They were the local inheritors of the Ministry of Arcane Science. Energy weapons, weapons that auto-enchanted ammo, nearly silent guns; these were their specialties. My parents occasionally had arguments over which style was better, more for their amusement than any other reason. My parents' marriage had been arranged. The two companies had no intention of combining, but neither did they want to compete outside the economic arena. The pact was formed for mutual benefit, and it was thus far successful in heading off any armed conflict. Let the others fight, we will prosper. Or something like that. They did love each other, in a way. But throughout my childhood the tension was always present. Luckily, I had plenty of siblings to keep me company. That was one thing that could be said of their marriage; it was damned prolific. I was raised by my brothers and sisters. We learned gun safety with dart shooters by the time we were potty trained. Procedure was, if you got shot with a dart you had to act like it was real. Scared the crap out of the little ones; they learned not to aim a bodies you didn't want dead. And gave all of us older kids a great time 'killing' each other. When we got to old to notice the little darts every time, a few of us got together to make an electrified dart. Hurt like a bee sting and you couldn't miss it if you were truly hit. Last I heard, Mom was selling a variant as training ammunition. We were given our first Real gun at age 8. The earth ponies were also given battlesaddles for their peashooters, the unicorns were expected to have mastered telekinetics well enough to carry their own. The family ranch (minus actual animals, of course) had a large firing range, with stationary and moving targets. There was a family competition once a month, rotating by weapon and ammunition type; I tended to score average. First prize got a cake and a choice of that weapon type from the armory. I remember when Deadeye got his own room, just so that he could fit all his guns on the walls. Bazooka too, although in his case it was the number of rocket launchers. By 14, I could take apart any weapon in the family arsenal blindfolded. And reassemble it the same way. I knew how to clean and maintain both guns and their ammunition. How to assemble my own weapon from an assortment of parts. How to pour bullets and mix different varieties of gunpowder. Re-power energy packs, or rig them to explode. This was all standard for my family though. I was actually looked down upon occasionally, for not being able to name a weapon on sight or knowing how to build a remote mine (it was the remote part). There were plenty of extra classes I didn't take, and even a few I had to take twice. It wasn't until I found an implant catalog that I really came into my own. I had to save my allowance for months, but eventually I got down to mmmmm labs. I told them what I wanted and then helped with the specifics. I had a general chemistry and circuitry knowledge, and I was clear with them when something wasn't right. A full year after first hatching my plan, I received the MAD-1 (Magic, Adrenaline, mmmmm) prototype implant. The only one ever made; that had been part of the contract. I took all the research notes afterward. I returned to the ranch with my head held high that day. I took another two hours, with help from the butlers, to lay everything out. Then, one-by-one, I convinced the whole family to show up. I'd picked my name, I said. “Before earning your cutie mark?” my father asked worriedly. “Yes.” I assured him. “You'll see.” I donned my special, 5 mount battlesaddle. Too much, you say? Well... yes. I'd had to wear practice weights for months before I could wear it loaded. My earth pony brother who'd helped me make it laughed when I first laid out the design. “Thats too much for a unicorn. You won't be able to walk!” “I won't have to.” (Yes, simplicity in speech is family virtue) Finally, dressed for battle, I walked out to meet my family. All twelve were there, along with what butlers could spare the time. They eyed me as I slowly walked to the stage, painfully climbing the steps. “Is she trying to become a tank?” my mother stage whispered. I grinned grimly. Funny, yes. Painfully close to the truth... that too. Well, I'd pulled this off before during testing. It was time for a show. “Hey there everyone. I know you are all terribly busy, but only wanted to do this once. No need to waste ammunition.” My father smiled as I used his favorite phrase. “As you know, I've spent the last year working with the ponies from mmmmm on a new implant. It's complicated and a bit dangerous to get installed. I've come to the conclusion that it can not be made market efficient.” My mother's face darkened slightly at that. I hadn't FULLY explained where that money was going, and she was a sticker for usefulness (of the sell-able variety). “However, I did have one successful test subject. Myself.” Whispering at that. No one in the family had implants. Most thought it was bad sport, just like using S.A.T.S. “I promise, I didn't make and install it to beat you in the shootout. I'd need more then this to catch Deadeye anyway.” Laughter. “Okay, here goes.” I turned around to look at the firing range. Nearly every target was standing, from those very close, all the way back to the sniper's targets at 3000 feet. With a press of a button, half began moving back and forth on their tracks. I had 5 rifles attached to my harness, of various type. Spread out before me was a selection of weapons from the armory. Nothing explosive, but I one of everything that wasn't. The fact that no two weapons were the same was part of the show. Just as uneven battlesaddles were hard to fire full auto, it was difficult for a unicorn to fire multiple varieties of weapons simultaneously. Assuming you could aim multiple; plenty of ponies had trouble with that part. “Come on sis, let's see some action!” Yep, time to stop thinking and start doing. I stepped onto a raised platform so that my under-chest rifle had a clear line. Then, struggling, I began to raise weapons. It wasn't about finesse, it was all about bulk mass. Twenty more guns raised around me, pointing mostly forward. Pistols, SMGs, Rifles, larger machine guns, shotguns, energy weapons. It wasn't easy to split my magic into that many lifts, even if they weren't THAT heavy. “There is NO way.” “She wouldn't try it!” “I don't care how good that implant makes her aim, that ain't gonna happen.” “Just using that battlesaddle will throw her off.” The doubt... I started up my implant. It was a slow process, but then it was a big implant. The piece overlay my spine from top to bottom, connecting to organs along the way. Hormones started flowing as I initialized the system. As it started, I smiled, then began laughing outright. This was going to brilliant! I kicked my hind legs, activating spikes on my battle harness. They smacked into the ground, holding my back legs in place. Braces tightened down around my body. Goggles came down over my eyes, specially made to darken under heavy light. The four guns mounted, two to either side, loosened in their mounting, only the bases staying attached. I floated the front ends; they could aim anywhere within 45 degrees of my facing. I laughed harder and louder. “YOU WANT A SHOW!” With shakes from adrenaline pumping through my body, I felt the magical increase begin to move up my spine and onto my horn. Three... Two... One... I hit SATS at the last moment, just as it reached the tip. In S.A.T.S., I gave instructions to each of the twenty-five guns, one at a time. Firing instructions, reload times. It took far beyond the time of a normal S.A.T.S. activation, from my point of veiw. Of course, it wasn't a normal S.A.T.S. activation. I double checked, making sure I had every target tagged. Then I released the spell and the world roared. Those guns I could barely float? As one, they snapped to a ready position. Slides were pulled, hammers cocked, and rounds chambered. Then they started firing, switching from target to target, pausing as needed to reload. The guns at my sides did the same, unloading expanded clips of 60 rounds each rounds each. The kick forced my light frame back, the braces only able to take so much. But I held, pushing against the spikes. The muzzle flares turned into a wall of fire. The friction of so many bullets in such a small area superheated the air. Heat lightning began to ripple in front of me, the heat wave passing backward toward me to warm my exposed face. It was glorious, it was deadly. Exactly 16 seconds later, every gun went silent. They dropped from the air, falling to the ground. Mom and Dad weren't going to be happy about that. But as I looked at the field ahead, I didn't care. It wasn't perfect. I hadn't hit everything, especially the farther targets. Likely some of that was do to the techno-spell's time limit; I'd have to take firing time and spell time into account in the future. But hundreds of targets registered hits. I'd wiped out a field in (a bit more than) ten seconds flat. Carefully, I kicked the pegs out of the ground. The braces loosened a bit; it felt like the right side might have bent a bit. The mounted rifles returned to their stock position. Goggles came up, head phones off. I shook my head a bit, then turned to face the family. You know, sometimes you don't realize what you're scared of until you've beaten it. I'd spent my life so far being scared of failing my family. I wasn't the best gunsmith, or sharpshooter, or all that great with explosives. I was bad with mortars and gun recognition. Even when I'd finished creating the implant, it wasn't something I was sure they would be proud of. But when turned, I saw the happiest family in the world. They were taking off headphones, smiling to each other, chatting excitedly. And when I turned, they gave me a standing ovation. My father came forward first, meeting me as I struggled off the platform. “You were right to only do that once. I'd hate to waste the ammo.” I grinned sheepishly. Next same my mother. “Honey, that was brilliant. You've made the whole family proud. Now are you sure this wouldn't be profitable?” I shook my head bemusedly. “We'll have to talk about it later.” She patted my shoulder and moved out of the way. Then came the gang. In a cooperative dogpile. I should have expected it, really. What better way to congratulate me and simultaneously show off how immobile I was? It was a good thing the barding was so reinforced; ten siblings can be a lot of weight. “Well?” my father asked once they'd all gotten off. I looked at him inquisitively. “You were going to tell us your new name.” my mother explained. Ah yes. I grinned even more widely. “My name is Massacre.” It wasn't until much later, tired of congratulations, they I shed my armor and noticed the new Cutie Mark beneath. A ring of eight different guns, all pointing outward. That seemed about right. For a while, mom totted me around for weapon testing and showcasing. I could fire literally anything on the mmmmm lineup. Once, for example, I was asked to fire the cannon of a tank by a misunderstanding tech. I think he expected me to get inside or something... I just picked it up and fired it from ten feet off the ground. The accuracy and damage was awesome! but I didn't feel like asking mom for one after I'd broken the suspension like that. Seriously... ten foot drop. How was I supposed to know a tank couldn't take that? It was a tank! I also did weapon showcases. For the most part I'd just magically lift and fire the weapons normally. Only at the end was I allowed to go full tilt, as a way to scare the crap out of the high bid crowd. Mom received many requests for copies of my implant, but she turned them all down by my request. I think doing so caused her physical pain, but I wasn't backing down. When you find something that makes you unique, you don't go and teach everyone else how to do it. But eventually the shows and guns became work. It was too repetitive a life for me. I considered going home, but my brothers and sisters were leaving, finding jobs that fit their skills and personalities. So I began to look for other options. After asking around a mmmmm, I finally hit on something. The mmmmm tech division had a small, military arm known as the Tech Hunters. They worked as both intelligence and procurement from the company. Their job was, more specifically, to obtain the plans of competing company's new products, and to locate old weapons for research. I signed on, the family name doing much to speed me through the process. The only class I couldn't pass immediately was 'old tech recognition', but after four months at the company college I was off. I hate an monthly budget, to spend as I pleased, and so of the more high-tech equipment mmmmm could provide. Happy with my new job's freedom, I wandered out into the waste. Shorts introductionInitiating Boot Sequence... Booting... Boot... Complete. Accessing Level 2 Memory... Retrieving system data... Scaning for viable nodes... Nodes found: 20 Listing nodes... Node list requires clearance: ******************** Grade 1 Clearance accepted. Listing Nodes Available to Grade 1... Introduction Foundation Access Node: Introduction Accessing Introduction... Corruption detected... Corruption Analysis Complete. Limiting access to 'safe' files. Running Preset Start Path ToC... intro.pmo opened! Hello there! Please, don't be alarmed. if you are, at least, which you may not be. If you are alarmed, try not to be; otherwise, continue being unalarmed and most likely bored by this point. What you have accessed is the combined memory banks of a rather famous group of ponies. Each one of them brought something new to the wastes, and shaped the waste as best they could until they were ended. One built a computer system by which the knowledge of the past might still be kept. Another fashioned weapons of precision and power as had not been attempted since the Great War. Still another built a government from the ideals of republic. Their projects have influence ponies across generations, though not all are remembered for their goodness. Still, As diverse as this group was, all of its members held one thing in common. They all kept rather good care of their memories, such good care that even now, years after their passing, we have a detailed account of their every action. year upon year of memories, sorted and kept safe now inside this machine, ready to be accessed by those of real worth. Only those of true worth to the world will be given access to these memories. They hold power and wisdom not meant for everypony. Rather, the curious and dedicated can gain access to these archives through their own work. By viewing this page, you have been given the right to experience some of the magic that these memories hold. Should you continue in your curiosity, more memories may be provided, subject to a reevaluation of your Grade. Now, let me end these tiresome legalities so that we make speech about the real reason you are here. There are currently 48 memory banks stored on this station. Each details the life of one individual who's projects have left an indelible mark on the rest of ponykind. Your grade of 2 gives you access to the personal files of Arch/Nexus, a zebra born a mere 12 years previous to the Great War. His diverse experiences previous to and during the Great War provide a fantastic view into life as it was. Early records are a bit scarce, but as we approach the Great War the memories become more consistent and allow one to experience entire months. Eventss are arranged in chronological viewing order where ever possible. Sections of interest to you will be highlighted specifically. Please, enjoy your use of the Eternity Memory Bank System. Thanks to Kkat for opening up his universe to fanfics, to Somber for inspiring me to write, and to mimezinga for giving me a standard to strive for. SS2: Error's EscapeShort Story 1: Chapter 1: Normal Day "It's Present Week!" I jumped out of bed, hitting my head on the ceiling of my spartan bunk. Rubbing the soon to be bump, I turned to see the eye of a large pastel orange pony peering excitedly into my refuge. "Comeon, comeon, comeon! Get up and be excited with me! Oops." the orange face slide down across the aperture of my bed, the pony herself apparently having overbalanced in an attempt to see me. I slid out enough to watch her flow across the indented surface down to the floor nearly 5 feet below. Apparently she was able to poke every pony as she made her way down, as a chorus of groans followed in her wake. Mandarin had mastered the art of the alarm clock, that much was certain. "Good Morning! Good morning. good Morning. Hi there Sandy! Good Morning!" "Darn it Mand'rin!" "Can't I sleep in today?" "We have a full hour 'til Class!" I'd learned long ago that once Mandarin was up, we should all be up. If she woke me up early, it was worth it. Knowing today would be a special day, I moved out of my bed and slowly, carefully made my way to the steep staircase which was the correct way to exit our condensed sleeping section. As I moved into the Class E communal showers and began my shower (shockingly cold as always). I thought back. It was Present Week. Present Week was a yearly occurrence in Stable 70. Built off TunnelWay access 30A-70F-C370, Stable 70 was one of the many Stables built by Stable-Tec during the later years of the war. The Zebra Legions had been developing ever more powerful weapons, and it was decided that a fall back should be made to keep alive the Equestrian culture should the worst come to past. over 100 were made, not nearly enough to house the entire populace. I had been just lucky enough to get myself a spot, although I can't remember how I procured a place. I couldn't remember all that much really, but that's why I was in E class. Pony were classified by their knowledge when they first entered the Stable. A through J depending on how well they could function. The Overmare had been given a number of ponies she could allow to live in the Stable and given clearance to drop the lower groups if their was not enough resources to keep them. She hadn't expected to have to use this power, but it quickly became apparent that the automated Stable door accepted passes for any Stable at all. In the end, over 4 times the sustainable population had arrived. Thus the J group had to be dropped. then the I. and so on. E was the lowest group still remaining, but the last removal had been 3 years ago. There was enough food for everyone now, so they were trying to reclaim us. Still a bit less space then we might want, but everyone had to make sacrifices. I knew this because they taught us in school. Basically, E group was the group who operated at 60% (of what, I don't know). Most of us hadn't held jobs supporting the Stable yet; those that had for a long time had been moved to D. The rest of us had the same schedule every day. All of us, regardless of age, went to school for the first half of the day. Then we apprenticed for the second half of the day. More on that later "And don't forget everyone, this week is Present Week. As I understand it, many of you have not received a present in the last 4 years. That makes this your year! I heard from the Overmare herself that the last of the presents are all ready, so keep an ear out for your call this week!" Joyous Link, out teacher, awoke me from my stupor. I couldn't remember moving from the shower, but no one was looking at me funny, so I guess I'd done ok over the last... 4 hours. That was all of breakfast and class. I did hate it when that happened... and Mandarin had even woken me up early. I'd hoped I'd remember all of today. As we filed out of the classroom, a deep navy unicorn with a blue mane came right up to me. She poked me in the cutie mark and smiled before speaking. "You remember me today Error?" "Um, Sky... something?" I smiled back hopefully. "Nope. Good guess though. I'm Turquoise. Before you ask, it's my name too." I had been about to ask. "So, is this your present year?" "Yep, and I think I'm really excited. I don't know what it will be, but I'm sure everyone will enjoy seeing all the new things." "Are you sure it's your present year?" We were in line for lunch now. "Yep. Mandarin woke me up extra early to tell me!" I thought about it a second. "It will be today too, since she wouldn't have reminded me otherwise." "Error, you know that Mandarin can't know that, don't you?" "Of course she can! She's Mandarin. Hey, I'm hungry too. Oh. Plate." I started eating. After lunch, I went to see Cog. That wasn't his real name, but I never could get it right. I was his apprentice, and had been for as far back as I could remember (not very long). I had been shuffled around a lot previous to that, since I was Very forgetful and all. The only thing I had ever really liked was the constructor's sector, but after I ignored a few safety signs to finish faster they had told me to leave. I'm pretty sure I wasn't in danger, but I'm probably wrong. Anyway, this was a predictable day with Cog. He hooked me up to his magic machine, and asked me questions. Usually his questions were about remembering things, like what I learned in class, or what he showed me in a book a few minutes earlier. Sometimes he would ask me different things though, like what the Tunnels were like or if I believed in pegasi. Silly questions most of the time. This time was one of those weird question times. "Have you ever thought of something and then had it come true, Error Message?" "What, like wishing that they'd serve cookies for dinner, and then eating cookies for dinner?" "Yes, but something less common. They serve cookies every dinner you know." "Cookies for dinner!" "Quiet. I can see you're already offtrack. Let's try this a different way. I heard that this is your present year. Do you remember what your present will be?" "Of course not! (PRESENTS)" "Since you don;t know, what do you predict your present will be?" "I think it's gonna be a sparkly toy which everyone will like. They will all want to share with me, and I'll get to use their toys for a little while but I'll get to keep my sparkly and sleep with it forever." "So your present will sparkle and make you happy. Is that fair to say?" "Of course! Everyone is happy when they get their present!" Cog started to do his mumbly thing again, so I went over to the toy stack and started playing. Usually it took quite a bit longer before he'd let me go play, but whenever he started mumbling he would ignore me for the rest of the day. That meant toy time! Chapter 2: Called to the Office "Error Message, you are needed in the Overmare's office. Please drop what you are doing and come immediately." The voice over the intercom sounded very serious, but then again it always sounded serious. Everything to do with the Overmare was serious, but I knew better than to be scared by the voice. They were calling me to get my present, and no amount of formality was going to get in the way of my enjoying it. Cog jumped a bit when he heard my name on the intercom. He had stopped mumbling, and was taking notes on his terminal. I'd asked him what he was doing, but most of his words had gone over my head. Something about being a psychicologist and helping everyone stay sane. He didn't let me help very much for being his apprentice. "Well, it looks like today is your present day! Come, let us discover whether your present is as shiny as you hoped." With that he climbed from his chair and began leading me to the Overmare's Office (at least, I thought so, but I'd never been so bad as to have o go there before). We pasted the E section door and entered the CDE general corridor which lead to the Great Auditorium. It was really, REALLY big. I'd been there a few times during the Drilling Festival and the Celestial Celebration (All Praise to the light goddess), but E's weren't supposed to go there without a teacher or a Level C (or higher) leading them. I looked around, but so much was unfamiliar and interesting that I couldn't really get a sense of the place before Cog pushed me through side door and into a pretty hallway with granite siding and really small carvings everywhere. Again Cog wouldn't let me stop to look, so i just had glimpses of ponies with drills and hard hats, then swords, then guns, then lasers. The end had a BIG picture of an explosion in the biggest cavern ever (I could tell it was big cause the ponies were so small). At the end of the hall were big doors of clay and metal. They opened to let Cog and me into the Overmare's Office. The room had lots of other double doors and lots of really nice marble tables and chairs, all matching. It must have taken quite some digging to get all of the raw materials, especially with how rare marble was. There was an elderly mare sitting at a desk, with a disapproving look on her face. "I assume you have an appointment." "This is Error Message. I brought him as quickly as I could." The mare looked at me with disapproval on her face. "I didn't realize he would require an escort or I would have sent one. You may leave now, we will provide him with a guide back." She turned from Cog, assuming he would comply. "As for you, please go through those doors. and don't touch Anything but the doors, we clear?" "Yes, miss mare" I started skipping toward the door when I was surprised by the near growl coming from the desk. "You will call me by my Title and level, E. Do it now." Her face was very red. It was only then that I noticed the Orange A floating right between her eyes. How could I have missed that she was a Level A. They were alway sticklers about rank and titles and such. "Um, yes Mrs. Orange Secretary of the Overmare!" She was still very angry looking so I ran through the door and into the next room. It was a library. not like the library in our classroom though, which was very colorful and had one book shelf. This library was big, bigger than big, and all of the books were yucky colors. They were thick too. I walked over to a shelf and was about to pull one down when I heard the door handle creak. Thinking the Mean Secretary was coming to scold me for touching something, I jumped under one of the big chairs dotting the room and hid. "Yes, Overmare, I feel he can handle presents this year. He has improved drastically over the last 4 years." Two ponies came through the door, which I could see through the legs of the chair. The big stone thing had very thick legs though, so they soon passed out of my vision. Still, I was able to recognize Cog talking to none other than the Overmare herself! The Overmare was wearing a purple dress, mostly transparent, which hardened miner's plate underneath. She also wore a hardhat modified to look like formal wear. Considering how heavily it was based off of protective mining gear, it looked surprising good. Not that I am such a good measure of that. It didn't look like something Twice Scarlet would wear, but it did look nice. "But he still isn't E class level, is he. What did the last hand test place him at, G?" "Yes, but we should talk about this later..." "No, it needs to be discussed now. Cognizance, we still don't know why the initial scan placed him in A class, when he is so obviously unable to function. The initial scan has always agreed with the hand test, in every case except for his. I would not be surprised by a few mistakes, but for its one mistake to be so severe. I mean, the poor colt should have been dropped off with the Fs, but the recycling system wouldn't accept him! It still thinks he is M class, despite all attempts to override. We can't even change his name! All we get is the same error message that was displayed when he first passed testing!" The voices finally stopped moving around the room to settle directly above me. Overmare was sitting in the very chair I was hiding under! "When I asked you to solve the problem three years ago, you said it would be a snap. What went wrong, why aren't you done?" "I don't think this is the best time..." "NOW" "ok, ok. Error Message is not his name for no reason. The stallion breaks medical equipment simply by being near it, and the attempts at physical procedures have yielded little results." "Stallion?" "Well, yes. Despite his size and maturity, Error Message is somewhere in his 30s. He seems to have suffered from growth problems from a young age, although we cannot find any examples of viral or bacterial agents. Although again, most of our methods of checking for that sort of thing don't work near him. I've asked Doctors Bloodbank and Kindhoof for advice, but they have been as perplexed as I. He doesn't respond to drugs as expected, but he seems to ignore all of he common ones placed in the level E food, so we haven't had to do anything there." "What about his memory?" "Without the drugs, we've fallen back to Psychotherapy, which is almost entirely ineffective when the patient forgets sessions entirely twice a week. Frustratingly slow seems to best describe our progress. But we have made some progress. I can recognize when he has forgotten things now. And he seems to be happy now, as happy as he has been since you moved him from construction." "You know why I had to." "I understand your reasons and agree. It still would have been better for Him if he had stayed." "I guess what I really need to know is this; can we trust him with his 'present.'" "Everypony responds differently to their present. We never gave one to an F or lower, so I don't have much to work off of, but as far as I can tell he will do just fine with it. He's been looking forward to it for a long time. Haven't you, Error?" "What are you..." I knew my cue. As weird as Cog was, he was nice. So when he used the all clear words, I knew I'd be safe to come out. "Hi there Miss Overmare! Are you going to give me a present. I can't wait for my shiny present! I really have been looking forward to it for a long time and i just know it will be amazing and ..." I stopped for a breath and noticed that the Overmare wasn't even looking at me. She was scowling at Cog, who seemed quite pleased. "Of course she will Error, now that I've backed her into a corner." "Cognizance, don't you try to decide this for me! You knew he was there?" Cog pointed to my forehead. "How many chairs could you own with a Purple M underglow?" Then with a smile had led me to another Big door, labeled 'Present storage.' Chapter 3: Present Party "Ok, Error" The Overmare pulled out some keys from her pocket and after a second placed the correct one into the lock. It was a Really big key, but then she had a really big mouth, so it would be hard to use otherwise. After unlocking the door, she turned to stop me from going through. "Your present is through this door. But I need you to be patient. We need to test you a bit as we give you them, so just be still and do as your told. If you don't, you don't get a present. Are we clear?" I nodded vigorously. "Ok, lets get this over with." The Overmare led the way into a medium sized room, about half the size of the library. There was a big table in the middle, as well as Cog's chair and a weird looking pedestal that the Overmare laid on top of. It looked really comfortable... But not as awesome as the presents on the table! I started bouncing on all four hooves right where I stood. There were a bunch of them, more presents on that table than half of the Es combined possessions. There were cases and satchels and boxes. Almost all were closed, but they were sure to hold amazing things! "Ok Error, your first present is this case. We want you to open it." The case was shiny black, with a strip of silver running around it and two hooks for attachment to a saddle. At first it looked like I could just pull on the silver part and it would fold open, but when that didn't work I looked up to the Overmare. "Can't you just open it?" "No, Error. You have to open your own presents." Cog was right of course. Now to think, think, think. After a second, I got it. I pulled on both of the hooks until they touched and BAM, the case snapped open. The hooks shocked me so that I dropped the case, and the contents came spilling out. "You couldn't figure that one out, huh?" "Sush, Cognizance" Chapter 4: Awakening I must have memory gapped again. Felt like it had been a long one too, since I felt tired. My eyes were shut, but I couldn't open them. Not good. Suddenly my eyes did open, though not because of me. It was like someone else was controlling my body! I was staring a blank wall though, so I still wasn't sure where I was. “Is it working?” It felt myself say in a deep voice. I didn't even know I could speak that low. “Yes. It is worked.” The other pony sounded funny, like his tongue wasn't working right. “You can turn now.” My body spun on it's chair and I realized I must have been out for a LONG time. I was sitting in a chair next to the biggest wall I'd ever seen. It just kept going, up and up, but when it got to where the ceiling should be, it just disappeared. Instead of the tunnel roof, there was just a giant blackness, far enough away that the spotlights nearby didn't light it at all. Around me was a camp, spread out in this massive room. There were tents and a small wall on the outside, fitting up against the big wall behind me. All around the camp were zebras, working and talking. I would have fainted right then if my body would let me. Zebras! I was surprised they hadn't killed me already. If there was one thing I learned about Zebra's from class, it was that they killed everypony who wasn't like them, especially little ponies like me. Right in front of me was a skinny grey zebra staring at glowing which, as far as I could tell, were being projected from a rock. He was still speaking with that accent. “Well, the scanner say it working. Pony tech is … strange, so I not … sure. Gah, pony language is strange too! How do speak it Nexus?” “Experience. Experience that you will have to catch up on if you wish to make the assault team. You have only this month to learn, or cope as you might see it. I must leave now though, no reason to wear this stupid thing longer than the training requires.” My name was Nexus now? Why did the evil zebra not kill me? My every instinct and teaching said to hide in a corner, but my body just strode right through the camp. I didn't talk to any of the other zebras, probably because they looked so scary. Eventually I walked to the biggest tent and went inside. The tent was much like the auditorium from the stable. The center was an oval platform filled with sand, and around it were stands so that everypony (or every zebra I guess) could see the center. But instead of a lecturer or band, the platform was empty but for a single zebra and a TON of weapons. They were organized in racks on either side, all types of blades and hammers and things I didn't recognize. I walked right up to the zebra in the center, who was stretching her legs and back. As I walked up she stopped and looked quisically at my forehead. “That is the memory talisman?” “Yes. We think it is worked, but we won't know until after this first test. Considering how costly they are, our first test is supposed to be usable as a sparring lesson as well. Thats why I asked you here.” “Are you certain it isn't because you wanted to see me alone?” The world spun suddenly. I was not prepared for my eyes to roll like that! “You are the best melee fighter in the camp and you know it. That is the only reason. Now then, have you stretched enough?” “You are such a bored soldier sometimes Nexus. To much honor, not enough personality.” “And you are just trying to gode me now, Klymax. Are you ready?” “More ready than you. Is the talisman active?” “It shouldn't be. If you are ready I'll activate it now.” I … um, lets just say Nexus for my body, until I figure this out … put his forehoof to his forehead and suddenly things shifted. Time sped up, so slowed, but for a few moments everything blurred. Then things cleared, and Nexus was in the middle of a fight. Nexus had two blades attached to his forehooves, which would have stuck out to the sides were he was standing normally. Ahead stood Klymax, a big blade held in her mouth. She charged and turned her head to bring the edge down between Nexus' ears, but he had fallen back and crossed his hooves, using the two knives on his legs to catch the sword. For a second he was on two legs, but Klymax slid in and kicked one of them out from under him. Nexus fell forward, his knives sliding along the sword toward Klymax, who was forced to turn her head back across her body. Nexus' knives slide just passed her, but in the process she had left her sword point first in the sand. Thuroughly unarmed, Klymax rolled away from Nexus, who took a second to uncross his hooves and rise. As he turned toward, Klymax reversed her roll and in a cyclic flurry, pushed off the ground with one hoof and spun toward Nexus. Unable to get his blades above his head in such a short time, he ducked and crawled forward underneath the tornado of blows. I felt pain as he was struck multiple times, but where I would have cried out, he simply stood and turned, readying to buck the now fleeing Klymax. Only she wasn't fleeing. As soon as she neared the ground, the agile mare planted a hoof and spun, somehow keeping her momentum as she reverse direction. Nexus was ready this time though, and what followed was a series of action and reaction faster than I could follow. Hammer blows pounded along my legs and neck, although most of them seemed to be from blocks. What a full hit would feel like I cringed to imagine. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bout ended with both combatants taking a few measured steps backward. I could see that Klymax was bleeding for her lip and crest. From the pounding on my (Nexus') face, I probably was too. “Well? Good enough for a practice run?” Nexus seemed about to respond, but before he did his pushed a hoof to his forehead again. Again the world swirled, time stretched and compressed. This time though, when I returned, it seemed no time had passed at all. “I hope so. I wouldn't wish 10 minutes of that on any trainee. I hope this will prove the usefulness of the memory storage as a training method. I have some ideas for correct operation's policy now.” “What could anyone want with memories of you getting trampled for 10 minutes anyway?” “Good Question. I don't see anyone learning from random sparring. Maybe if we listed off the techniques previous to using them... I'll need to talk to Sparks before he demos this to the superior. I promised I'd make this work for him, and he has done me more favor than I care to count.” “Well, I know one thing he shouldn't do. Force the superior to watch that disgrace you call technique from the Losing point of view.” With that, Klymax cantered out the entrance, nickering as she went. Nexus seemed to ignore her exit, instead going through a few moves before pressing a hoof to his forehead again. I expected the shift this time, but this time it lasted longer than before. Things slowed so much I thought I would fall asleep... Chapter 5: Unexpected Consequences When I awoke, I was relieved to see I was back in the small present room. Mayor Mare was gone, but Cog was still here. He had a hoof on my neck when I opened my eyes, but he quickly back up. Funny, he had looked really unhappy there, but now he was back to normal Cog...ni...sense (I try sometimes). “Error, are you ok?” “Hnuglrsh” I mumbled confidently. After some coughing and a sneeze I tried again. “Hungry.” What? I was hungry. “Well, that's good, I think. Mayor Mare sent for a doctor to see what your present did to you.” I looked around quickly. I never did see what the present looked like. But the table was empty, and the case wasn't on the floor anymore. They weren't going to give me my presents after all. It was too much. The zebras, the memory jumps, the pain, all of those I could deal with. They had been scary, but they had already happened. Not getting my present though... that was just one step to far. “Oh. Oh shit. Error? Its ok Error, it will be ok. Everything will be fine.” “No present!” “It was a bad present Error. You don't want a bad present, do you?” “I just want my shiny present!” “We'll get you a shiny present, ok. It will be very shiny and you will be able to share it with your friends and everything. But I need you to stop crying Error. It's, uh... it's making your letter turn different colors.” I didn't know what he was talking about, and I didn't want to. Instead I just buried my head under my hooves and cried. As I shifted, one of my hooves hit my forehead, just above my eyes, and the world slid away as the time shift took hold. Chapter 6: Life's Tutorial Again I ended the memory shift in a different place than I entered. I still wasn't sure wether I was going forward or backward in time with these jumps, but I seemed to be able to get back to the present afterward, so I didn't worry too much. This time, I was in a small room with wavy brown walls. They looked kind of like an Tiger's Eye, but nowhere near as shiny. Beside the walls, there was a door of the same material and a Big mirror on the opposite wall. The mirror showed the room, and Nexus. I knew it was Nexus now because he didn't look anything like me. He was a zebra, for one, mostly a pale yellow with grey stripes. I think he was small, but it was hard to tell with as little references as the room had. He was wearing nothing but a braclet and a strange black stone suspending just between and above his eyes by woven straps. As I watched he lowered his hoof from the stone and placed it on the ground. Then he began to speak in a language I couldn't understand. (translated)”Welcome to the Nexus training program. If you would prefer to hear this tutorial in pony, speak now.” “Huh?” I couldn't understand a word of it. As soon as I'd spoken, however, he started talking normally. “Welcome to the Sparky-Nexus training Program. If you would like to swich back to Latin, speak now.” I stayed very very quiet. After a second, Nexus continued. “This is your first time using the program, so I will give you a quick tutorial.” He pointed to the mirror. It lit up from behind, and suddenly runes appeared floating in front and around it. More and more appeared, spiralling out of the mirror to move about the room until every wall was covered by them. They glowed in different colors and sizes, but one by one they resolved into words, some of which I could read. Thank goodness for all the time I'd put into reading in class, otherwise I'd have been totally lost. “This program is the result of nearly 40 zebra-years of work and contains everything necessary to train you in the various skills of warfare against the ponies. Very few apparatus have been made, due to the rarity of gems required, so use your time wisely. Most of your activities in this module have been time compressed to allow for longer periods of use. Still, you must be careful not to stay inside longer than required, since time will pass while you train. Always keep an eye on the wall clock, which will tell you how long you have been inside,” Nexus gestured to a glowing clock floating to the left. “For more information on safe use, see the Safe Use Library.” another symbol to the left, this one a thick circle. “The memory libraries are sorted by subject, and then by sub-categories. As an example, the culture category' “And he touched a word near the mirror. The symbols began shifting, only those on the left staying the same. Soon new words littered the room. “is further broken down into such sub-categories as language and celebrations.” Nexus pressed the back key and everything returned to the last set. “As you have probably noticed, you are not in your normal body. This body is Nexus, your avatar while you run this program. Since it is based of off memory storage, the program can only access avatars created previous to its finalization. All of your avatar's movements are prerecorded, so you will be limited in the number of actions you can preform while in this program.” With that, the tutorial ended. I waited a second to see if Nexus said anything more, but after he did not, I tried to move. Sure enough, Nexus moved the way I wanted to. I tried walking, and found that I had no problem walking around the room. I wasn't sure what the limitations were supposed to be, but I seemed fine. So, now what. The door might let me go out, or it might not. I didn't want to hit my forehead on the off chance I was forced to leave. This place was cool! Yes, I was in a scary zebra body, and yes most of the lessons were on evil zebra things. But I bet the culture part had all sorts of cool things! I could check up on my spelling anyway. I took a look at the clock. I must have been reading it wrong, because it said it was 12 seconds after noon. Maybe the library would have something on clocks! I started pressing buttons to find out. Best present ever! Chapter 7: Chapter 8: Claustrophobia Chapter 9: Field Failure Chapter 10: Entering the Tunnelway This fanfiction is based on Fallout Equestria by Kkat; a familiarity with the source material may aid your understanding. You can read Fallout Equestria by Kkat on Equestria Daily The Fallout: Equestria logo used above was designed by DotRook, who, according to the original deviantArt page, allows usage in supplementary materials created for and associated with the series. Images really do make a difference, so he has our eternal gratitude and respect. If you enjoy Fallout Equestria Side Stories, you will want to check the Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan The Ponychan group is also a hatching ground that you can join if you want to share your experience, writing or comments with us.
SS1: Forgetting EternityFallout Equestria: An Eternity to Rebuild Prologue: Forgetting Eternity #Spike// RUN memwipe.x -warnings ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Memory Wipe Ver.1_7 By Eternity Research and Development Based on Original by Eternity Initializing... Broken Hoof tapped away at his keyboard. The light from the monitor radiated out, casting a shadow on the far wall of the cave. There it twisted and danced as the text flashed by, distorted by the uneven surface of the wall. The tapping of the large, hoof sized keys rebounded across the domed room, deflecting back from various angles and distances, traveling down side tunnels and reappearing from others. The constant rattle had changed from distinct clicks to a wave like rattle, rising and falling as the pony typed on. From the side cave entered a snake-like head. scales glistening purple, the head was followed by the long body, wings, and finally tail for a dragon. With a slightly irritated glare, the dragon approached the lone pony, drawing near enough to see the miniscule words flashing across the screen. "I really wish you didn't have to run that here." The dragons voice was deep, as is to be expected from a dragon of multiple centuries. Yet despite its age and maturity, it still contained a hint of the annoying whine the had characterized it so long ago. The pony barely reacted, perhaps having heard the dragon enter (not particularly difficult considering its bulk). The typing never faltered, nor slowed in the slightest as the pony responded. "You know I don't have much choice Spike," the dragon grimaced slightly, but didn't interrupt. "Only three Crusader mainframes were ever built, and this beauty is the only one worth working from. Unless you want me to make the stab at Stable 23 again." The pony's voice stayed monotone throughout his speech, grey as the remnants of his coat. If Spike had not known Broken Hoof for Quite a long time, this would have been more concerning. But right now he could recognize the total dissociation from the world. Broken Hoof was tired of trying, tired of striving against an inevitable fate. It had taken a decade, but the Wastelands had broken him and only the last pieces of instinct drove him to continue. "I suppose not, considering last time. But couldn't you just go back to the Ministry of Awesome? Even if your relationship with the Enclave is tense, they still respect you. And they can't deny a war hero access to their own records." "I tried Spike," another twitch from the dragon, "but they canceled my clearance a generation back. Apparently having a hero who eventually left the clouds was a bit too inspiring and was causing some ponies to actually DO something. Not to mention, they've cut off all remote access since the Enclave Remnant fiasco." "You could still ask." taptaptap. "Or I could use the machine I can get direct access to with mostly no hassle," the pony shot an empty glare vaguely in the dragons direction. "I'd have to come here afterward anyway, since I can't send out the orbs myself." "I just hate having to see you like this. it's like seeing..." The dragon cut off as the pony quit his typing and turned around in the chair, a bloody glare dominating an unholy head of crackled leathery skin. The pony's distraction had been replaced by rage. "Like seeing what! A Dying Friend‽ A acquaintance returned from the grave‽ You know Spike, as much as you watch you'd think you'd know more about reality! But your century of hidden solitude has robbed you of your sense of importance! You watch your screens as if you were watching a fiction, as if all those deaths and all that pain was just someone's idea of good television. It's not surprising I guess. I mean, who could keep caring, keep feeling for decades of pain, let alone centuries‽ But it doesn't excuse you for acting the part of a goddess. it doesn't ... Doesn't..." the pony's glare and anger began to fade as quickly as it had begun. "Fuck, who cares. Nopony depends on you enough for it to even matter." The gray pony turned back to the monitor, ignoring the dragon once again. The dragon stood in place for a minute, then two, unable to think of something to say. As he thought, the echos of anger bounced around the cavern of his mind. Slowly the drone of tapping replaced it and with a resigned glace the dragon left the pony to his solitude. System Diagnostic... Charge Matrix.....stable Central Computing Matrix.....stable Transfer Matrix.....stable Orb feed..... functioning Memory feed.....viable source found System Diagnostic complete. A new room now, this one dominated in the center by a giant pillar of computational equipment. The Crusader was one of the pinnacles of Arcano-tech engineering, allowing for massive calculations to be performed. This one was programmed with the functions for mass magical manipulation, which Broken Hoof was grateful for. A previous attempt with another mainframe had required him to write his own version of half those functions, and the time commitment had not been pleasant. Not that he really remembered it that clearly. After a few minutes of downloading and preperations, the pony stood and pressed enter. For a second nothing happened, but then his mane began to slowly rise from his neck, defying gravity for a moment before begining to emit sparks of arcane energy. With a yelp, the pony ran from the mainframe, fearful of causing it harm. The sparks were still erupting when Spike entered a moment later. "Gah! Spike, help me! this darned brace is throwing sparks around inside my neck!" Spike, seeing no other option, grabbed the pony by the neck, using his bulk to ground the pony momentarily. Looking closely at Broken hoof's crest, he reached a single talon in and pressed a protruding button gently. instantly the ponies body went limp and the sparks ceased. "Guh, i hate that feeling... like your entire body going to sleep. Almost the same as taking a bullet through the neck, but without the painful reminder that you're still alive." "Aren't you supposed to keep a fuse in here?" asked Spike, poke around between the ponies shoulder blades. Where one might expect muscle, or in the case of this ghoul, torn ligaments, Broken Hoof instead had a giant metal plate. Shaped to be unnoticeable, Spike knew the center bar replaced Broken's spinal column. It made for an interesting way to interface with computer's but given Broken's current state it was obvious he wasn't following safety procedures. " Nah, I just need something better then my spine to ground it. Mind sticking around?" "Well, I suppose i could. I was going to be in the viewing room, but..." "Just leave you tail in here. I promise you won't feel anything." Spike could barely pay attention to the monitors for those next few hours. Checking Available Resources... Memory Orb count.....7836 orbs Magical Charge stored.....395083 transfer years Max Access speed....27.4 transfer days per hour Max Save speed...11.3 transfer days per hour Transfer Matrix availability.....12.7 year storage Available Resources logged. "Where do you want me to leave you this time?" The pony sat with Spike in the viewing room, eating some war food from the smaller tunnels. He was wearing battle barding and a battle saddle loaded with two multi-barrel laser weapons. The entire thing would strain the muscles of an Earth pony, but the ghoul ignored the weight against gravities wishes. Both he and the dragon continued to watch the screens as they talked. "Preferably somewhere that isn't radioactive or tainted. Other than that, I don't care. Take your best pick." "I already have. I'm out all my best options these days. Not many places left with both ammunition and an open-mind." "Maybe a ghoul settlement?" "It works, but there's always the chance you won't leave. I don't think you want to be left out of the events of the next few years." "What I want doesn't really matter. Truthfully, you shouldn't be asking me in the first place. Spike, you've watched the Wasteland for over 200 years. I know that where ever you choose will be perfect." "I still want to take your wants into consideration!" "My wants are too caught up with such stupidities as pain and sorrow. You managed to overcome such useless burdens and can thus choose with total impartiality." There was a pause as Spike considered his next words. "You aren't corrupt you know. Just because you've lived through unjust times doesn't make you any less worth saving." "Wrong word there Spike. I've died through unjust times. I've been dying for twenty years now, and I'll be dying for the next twenty, assuming I don't kick the bucket early. Even before the Tempest, before Eternity, even before Nexus, I have always been dying. And when I finally finish dying, the only person who knows me for who i am will put all my pieces back together and have a little pitty party. Quietly, where no one else can hear, so that no one is tempted to retrace my steps. in the end, the entire project of my life will lay as unrecognized as your contributions to the Wastes." "But it will still be there. It's effects won't end with you, they'll last up to eternity. you said that once and I still believe you." "I didn't say that Spike! I'm not your friend of old. heck, I'm barely your friend at all! You're just another useful tool to my sick inventor," this was somewhat unsettling to hear from a monotoned, un-emotioned pony. "I will never be Eternity again Spike. You know it too. You think I don't notice how you flinch every time I say your name. You know I'm not really a friend, that I'm just using your name because i know who you are. You never told ME your name. Truthfully, you're still Watcher to me." "Perhaps you could just call me that then." Setting System limits... Max transfer length.....99517.2 years Max time per orb..... 24630.1 minutes (17.1 days) Limits set. Initialized. "What do you want me to do with this time's arsenal?" Broken hoof was shoving a thick granite chest across the uneven floor, straining for every inch. Still, the strain could not have been to hard, for his voice betrayed not a hint of it. "I'd like you to keep it for now. If you are right about the next few years I'll need it back some day. You still have space in that giant weapon chest don't you." "Nope. You filled that one up quite a while back actually, But I've got 4 more in the caves." "really! I don't remember ever bringing that many back here..." "It was an interesting time. Perhaps you'll find out about it this round?" "meh, maybe. i probably won't care when I do though... stupid curse." The dragon watched the pony struggle across the ground, moving toward the lower tunnel into which Spike could barely fit these days. Spike could have offered help, but either stubbornness or determination had kept the pony from asking. Regardless, the last hours of the last day were always difficult for Et... that pony. best let him spend it as he wished. Starting main program... Selecting Only Available Memory Feed: MF2.5-Z1beta (2 channel mode) Memory Feed.....stable. "You know, Broken hoof, what I said about losing a friend is the truth. Every time you do this, its like you dying all over again. And even if we haven't been on the best of terms, I don't enjoy seeing anyone die, despite what you might think." "But I won't be dead. I'll keep living on, helping out until I'm beaten down again or end up as mental as a raider. The I'll come back and you can unweave the basket to my case all over again." "It doesn't help though. You will still stare at my sprite-bots in confusion. You'll still walk into my cave in awe. It will still be years before you'll trust me, and still more before you speak to me like an equal. And by the time we've finally worked everything out, you'll want to quit. You have any idea how many times I've convinced you not to suicide? How many times I've pleaded with you to put on a brave face and go out again? Do you know how many times I've asked you to stay you, regardless of who that currently is?" "No, and I don't want to. Truthfully, I'd rather just quit this and be done with undeath. My project will fail in the end, so why stick around. I don't really know, i guess I'm just working on routine right now." "You're much to old to be deceiving yourself like this." "What do you mean? I'm only 20." Transfer options... Start date: NOW -32y End date: NOW Separate Awake-Sleep Ops:Y Awake: Separate Awake by emotion (option still in beta):N Keep trivial:N Keep daily:N Keep Important:N Keep Integral:N Save trivial:N Save daily:N Save Important:Y Save Integral:Y Sleep: Separate Sleep by emotion (option still in beta):N Keep sleep-time:N Keep dreams:N Save sleep-time:N Save dreams:N Time per orb:EVENT Add another instruction set:N WARNING: The options you selected will significantly impact the personality of the subject. In extreme cases this can result in permanent memory loss or death. Please change your options! WARNING: The options you selected will require more than a week of constant processing. During this period, the subject will be unable to eat or drink. Please change options to ensure patients full recovery. Change command list #: 1 What part of this command will you change: OVERRIDE full ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Override level:full Override command: SET warn_flag_death = 0; SET warn_flag_week=0; Override authorization: ******************************** Override accepted... overriding current warn_flag_death value. overriding current warn_flag_week value. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Commands loaded: list1 Memory removal ready... Execute memory removal:Y Are you sure:Y "What are you going to do with the orbs, Spike." "I explained that to you once. You tried to shoot me seconds later. On the off chance the two were connected, I think I'll keep quiet." After a moment, the pony turned and looked Spike in the eyes. his own Eyes had changed hue, both the iris and pupil swirling into a little blue. Taking a deep breath, Eternity spoke. "Thank you Spike. Thank you for keeping the promise. Thank you for keeping me going all these years. Despite everything I've said, the Wasteland wouldn't be here without you. So keep your chin up and eyes on the screen. If you do, maybe one day I'll release you from that promise and we can be friends for real." "We are friends for real. You just haven't seen it yet." But the moment had already passed. Turning away, Broken Hoof got to his feet and climbed the small platform set up near to computer. The Element of Magic lay on a podium the dominated the platforms center, and Broken hoof pressed against it's side to fit. "Well Spike, I had something planned, but it seems you've ruined my speech." The pony's shape crumpled to the ground. "I've already heard that speech." Memory removal initiated... Running analysis..... Saved Time: 24days 13hours 57minutes 13seconds Required Orbs: 328 Estimated Time: 12.8days Beginning Memory Removal and Saving... Blue and Gold lines of magic formed, waving around as they emanated from the ponies neck, thickening slowly until, with a blinding blaze and sharp crack, they snapped onto the computer and began to pulse. The pulses seemed to hold images, a video blurring with speed, rewinding. Spike watched for an hour when a slight pop caught his attention. A single Memory Orbs rolled across the floor from the small hole in the computers case. Starring, the watching dragon picked it up and with a sigh of resignation picking up the orb between his talons and with a *puff* sent it off to destinations unknown. This fanfiction is based on Fallout Equestria by Kkat; a familiarity with the source material may aid your understanding. You can read Fallout Equestria by Kkat on Equestria Daily The Fallout: Equestria logo used above was designed by DotRook, who, according to the original deviantArt page, allows usage in supplementary materials created for and associated with the series. Images really do make a difference, so he has our eternal gratitude and respect. If you enjoy Fallout Equestria Side Stories, you will want to check the Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan The Ponychan group is also a hatching ground that you can join if you want to share your experience, writing or comments with us.
SS3: Welcome the Nightmare(Author's Note: This was an attempt at a new storyline that I will likely continue. While I liked many of the concepts involved, I do not like how the character and plot turned out. I've gone back to the drawing board, but you may see a large portion of this text show up in my latter work. Also, the mmmmm is a placeholder for names I had not yet come up with.) Character Introduction – Hex Unicorn Mare Stableborn Strength 5(-3) 2 Perception 6(+1) 7 Endurance 10(-2) 8 Charisma 6 6 Intelligence 7 7 Agility 5 5 Luck 1 1 (Magic) 5 5 Coat: Deep Purple Mane: Star Blue Eyes: Sky Blue Likes: Getting away with It, Cute Bucks, Strategy games. Dislikes: Her Luck, Her current (lack of) Magical Ability The seven of us stood in an uneven group between the two massive doors. The briefing claimed the transfer took only a few minutes before switching to the outside air, but as we eyed each other cautiously, time seemed to stretch on and on. The briefing had been positive of course. We were sure to get along great, the outside was sure to safe now, all we had to do was set up a camp, explore to prove it was safe and come back. “If you confirm an all clear, We'll send out a professional party to see your work! When they give the all clear, I'll open the Stable and you will our heroes!” The Overmare had sounded entirely convinced of their soon to come success, giving smiles and hoof-shakes. Such a glorious day for Stable 56! The ceremony was identical to the one presented last year of course. Stable 56 sent out ponies Every year to explore the waste. And the studiously ignored fact was that never, not once, had the Overmare sent out a 'professional team.' Most ponies assumed those sent outside just died, but a few of the more cynical ones believed the Overmare was ignoring reports. Cynicism with a bit of backwards optimism thrown in. I hoped they were right. Find out in a few minutes... I looked around at the ponies I would be stuck with for the rest of my potentially short life. To my right was Recall. The small, light blue earth buck had a mane which started the color of his coat but turned black at the ends. He still had a bit of cake on his muzzle from the Happy Exploring feast. The whole Stable knew him for his fantastic memory. Also know for his Inflated ego and tendency to brag. He did great back in school, jumping two classes. Ended up finishing the entire curriculum before even getting his cutie mark, an old-style camera. I hadn't heard much about him since he graduated, but he must have done something to piss of the Overmare. She wasn't one to throw out the kind of talent on a whim. As I watched him, his flat blue eyes met mine. He was scoping out the room too, no doubt writing us all off as useless. If I could get in as his friend early... nah. I'd never be able to stand his attitude. Next to him stood Breeze and North Gust, Breeze digging her head into her Father's side. North Gust was a strong Earth Stallion from Maintenance His cutie mark, a cross wrench above a heart, perfectly fit his role as a loving and hardworking father. His coat was a dark brown and his mane a slightly lighter shade. His dark eyes looked only at his daughter; he seemed to be whispering to her, no doubt trying to reassure her in the new setting. Breeze, in stark contrast to her father, had a pure white coat and mane. Her eyes were the only part of her with color, being a light brown which matched her father's mane. The poor unicorn was shivering against her father, trying to burrow her head farther into his side. It must have hurt him, her digging her horn in like that, but North Gust showed no sign. I could guess why they were here. Breeze was born to Polaris and North Star a few years back and while people wondered at her unusual coloring, so unlike her parents, they had kept to themselves. The doctors initially though she was albino, but her eyes changed from red within the first few weeks and everything seemed to be going great. I don't listen to the Lucky 500 too often, so I didn't hear most of the baby stories (and other crap) that might have kept me informed of the foals early years. It was a few years after Breeze's birth that I heard her name again. Apparently she hadn't spoken yet, at an age when her peers wouldn't stop talking. Doctor Twoheart eventually said she was just shy, give her a few years, etc. Long story short, she never started talking, or really interacting. No doubt the Overmare had chosen to throw her out when Five Paragraph had proclaimed her unteachable. North Gust wouldn't leave his child for the world; ten to one odds he had volunteered to accompany her. Over in the far corner was Jail Break. The Earth Stallion's coat was an obnoxious neon orange, and his mane pure black. His eyes were a deep black as well, the coloration making it difficult to tell where he was looking. The Stallion had been punished so many time by the Overmare, is was a surprise he hadn't been thrown out years ago. One rumor said he'd blackmailed the Overmare, and another claimed he was her, um, special someone. Whatever the truth, he was with us now and I was none too happy about it. Hopefully North Gust could keep the convict in line. Now looking to my left, I spotted Black Eye. She was a growing earth pony, still without her cutie mark. It was unusual for the Overmare to send out ponies so young, but Black Eye's mother had died in an acid leak down in Maintenance years back. Her father, who had stayed unnamed on her Stable Birth Report, never showed up to claim her, so maybe he was dead to. Left without a family to care for her, she was an obvious choice. The Pale yellow pony had purple-to-blue splotches that earned her her name. She was rather coltish for her age, although she'd have to be to keep the other ponies off her. She seemed focused on Jail Break, eyes wide, perhaps contemplating what he could do to her spine. Last was Plume, another freak birth. Plume was the, and I mean THE, Stable pegasus. She hid her deep red wings beneath a modified Stable 56 Security barding, the only clothes of our entire group, and eyed us with the gaze of a trained security pony. Of course the Overmare wouldn't let us take anything out of the Stable, as 200 years of ponies leaving would have stripped the Stable of everything Plume must have fought hard to get that barding. She'd completed the Security training not a month ago and immediately volunteered for the next exploration party. She was, unsurprisingly, keeping a yellow eye on Jail Break, but I really doubted she could take him unarmed as she was. Hooves crossed we never found out. The silence continued to stretch, with only the soft murmurings of North Gust and the background noise of the rusty circulation fans providing a sense of time passing. Bored, I sat down with a thump, drawing looks from all but Breeze. North Gust snorted and when back to his child. Recall rolled his eyes, lay down, and apparently began to nap. Some ponies... Jail Break seemed about to say something when the fan sounds changed. The air began to leave the room, the wind proceeding upwards toward the vents. My ears popped once, then again. I took a deep breath as instructed, hearing repeats around me. The air continued out, the Stable reclaiming every last bit it could before repressuring the air lock from outside. It was getting painful. My eyes hurt so I closed them. Breeze was making whimpering noises, muffled by the low air pressure, obviously not holding her breath. It would be terrible if she died before even getting outside! As I began to consider the likelihood of the Overmare simply killing us all, the fans reversed with a loud clanking. IN the walls, various somethings snapped and sealed, protecting the Stable. Then the air began to return. Well, this was it. Time to live or die. As my ears began popping again, I blew out my now stale air and took in a breath of the other world. It smelled... rusty. Not just rusty. There were hints of something else, flavors that I hadn't experienced before. It was noticeably empty of the overpowering odor of Stable air, built up from years of sweating, active ponies and mostly efficient air reconditioners. This new air smelled almost, well, nonexistent. You could almost forget you were breathing, with air of this quality. OK, bad thought. I took another breath, working my jaw to facilitate my ear's struggle against air pressure. Looks like I was gonna make it, anyway. My heart was going a mile a minute, but otherwise I felt fine. I cautiously opened my eyes. Breeze was gasping on the floor, bleeding out of her tear ducts and nose. It looked pretty grizzly, the blood staining her mane. North Gust was doing everything her could, which sadly wasn't much with the tools he had. He stood over her, stroking her coat and wiping her face intermittently. His coat barely showed the spot where he wiped his hooves, the blood and coat blending together. Plume walked over to see if she could help and Black Eye, now left alone next to Jail Break, scooted backwards toward me. “So, what do you think we'll find out there?” She asked skittishly. Trying to buddy up already? When I didn't answer immediately she continued on, “I head some of the Maintenance mares chatting. They said that the bombs probably destroyed everything and there isn't anything but stars out side. That is why the ponies who leave never come back, cause they fall out into the stars and just keep falling and falling. Of course, Five Paragraph said that was rubbish because the bombs couldn't blow up THAT much and if that was the case why wasn't the whole Stable falling too?” She was speeding up as she talked, both excited and frightened. “Instead, he said the reason nopony comes back is because they made a big city and they don't want to come back. I asked him why they didn't come tell us to come out too then, but he said it was because they were all bad ponies, so they kept it a secret. I don't want to be a bad pony, so I promised to tell him if that was true. Do you think it's true?” I nearly started to answer before she continued. “Of course, when I told the Maintenance mares, they told me I was stupid and...” This needed to stop before she ran out of air in the room to speak with. I interrupted, “No, I don't think there is a big city out there.” Black Eye was stumbling over her words, trying to finish another sentence before listening (I hoped). “I think there are a bunch of burned out cities, dead ponies, and little else. Now, IF you don't mind, I'm going to plan with Plume. A good filly would keep quiet while the adults talk.” With that I walked off, leaving the crushed gal mumbling, “I'm not a filly.” I reached Plume who was awkwardly attempting to help North Gust. I tapped her shoulder and began when she turned away. “So, do we have a plan for the big one over there?” I nodded toward Jail Break. “I don't know how much of a chance we've got, but I doubt it will improve with him around.” Plume looked down slightly at me and wrinkled her forehead. “I don't like him much either, but I don't plan to leave anyone behind. Until we get supplies and some sort of base camp, I'd rather keep around the muscle. After that, we can talk about it as a group. With luck he'll leave on his own, though I'm not counting on it. Freedom will be nice, but having prey might be tempting too...” “Heh, ya don't need a worry bout me none.” How a giant, bright Orange pony can sneak with far beyond me, but he pulled it off. “I'ma be off the second dis door's open, an I'd 'preciate ya all letin me go.” Plume considered, eying the two foals, me and Recall. None of us had the 'muscle' she was looking for, that was for sure. She wasn't all that buff herself. She responded, “I don't entirely like it, but I'm not going to stop you.” What further she was going to say was swallowed up by the screeching of gear. The outer door slide out of its place, red lights flashing. North Gust moved Breeze out of the way of the door and a metal arm descended from the ceiling to connect to the thick circular plate. The arm passed directly over Recall, still snoozing. With a ringing Bang, the arm and door connected and the door was rolled to the side, allowing us our first view of the outside world... It wasn't all that impressive, truthfully. A rocky tunnel proceeded, yellow light reflecting off rocks to illuminate our rusted room. Slowly a few small bulbs flickered to life along the walls, hung at head level. Some flying creature could be heard exiting the cave, no doubt alarmed by the noise. Amazingly boring. Then, as the echos of the door began to fade, I heard something else. I periodic squeak, squeak, coming from the exit of the cave. It was slowly approaching, getting slightly louder. Plume looked around for a second before stepping up to the exit and placing a careful hoof onto the earth outside. I didn't want her to have to stand alone, so I took a few steps forward to stand in her shadow. Yep, I sure am helpful! Finally the squeaking noise drew close enough that I could tell it was coming from... the floor? A metal box balanced on a single wheel rolled around the corner. The squeaking stopped as it came to a halt before us. For a second there was silence; we all starred at the unmoving box, not sure whether it was a threat. Then, with an extravagant wave of its arms, the robot, for that is what it was, began to proclaim in a tinny voice. “Hello Stable Dwellers! Welcome to the Wasteland! I am mmmmm, known by my locally designated name of mmmmm. I am here to present each of you with a standard Pipbuck upgrade, provided free of charge by my creators, the mmmmm corporation! If you would please turn you Pipbucks to channel CT and press accept, you will receive your gift!” Perhaps it was shock. Perhaps it was the sheer absurdity. Perhaps it was Plume reaching toward her Pipbuck. Regardless, we all followed suit, twiddling with our Pipbucks and receiving the promised download. North Gust took a few seconds of poking at his daughters smaller Pipbuck 2000 before he got everything correct and nodded to the bot. I looked back to my Pipbuck. Code (I assume) began scrolling past the screen for moments before everything closed down to a single prompt >Restart to complete installation. Y or N. I hit Y and my Pipbuck shutdown completely. I counted, One... Two... Three... There it was. The start-up screen showed what I can only assume is the mmmmm company logo, before swapping over to a sleek, redesigned interface. “Very good! I have received confirmation of all seven downloads!” I guess Recall was listening. “Now I will lead you to the New-U station! Please keep up!” With that the robot backed up, did a 180 turn, and zoomed off out of the cave with that repetitive squeak. Given a second of respite from the onslaught of new information, we looked at each other “Well, that was unexpected” I started. “Nothing was expected.” Recall turned his head back to face us and got up off the ground. He didn't open his eyes however... strange. “It would be stupid to assume we can have any idea what has been going on outside Stable 56 for the last 200 years. Just because nothing changed in the 1000 years of Celestia's reign doesn't mean nothing has now that the Princesses are dead.” “True” said Plume, obviously warming to her role as unofficial leader. “The important thing isn't what we can't know, however. What is important is that we remain careful of everything, including this little robot, until we have a good handle on what IS going on. Agreed?” I have no idea why she was even asking us, but everypony nodded their head demurely. Well, Recall's nod was less demure and more all-knowing, and Jail Break's nod might have been a nervous twitch, but Plume took it as a consensus continued. “Ok, in the tunnel I'd like Jail Break and myself to lead the group. North Gust will be in back. I can trust you to keep anypony from straying, yes?” North Gust nodded an affirmative. “Good. Everyone ready?” Not like we have to pack or anything... We started along the tunnel. The Stable 56 cave switched back and forth before opening out into.... “Celestia! that is BIG!” At first Plume's body blocked my view out, but when she feel to her haunches looking up, I got a good look. The ceiling of the Wasteland was hundreds of feet in the air. The fact that it still hung there 200 years after the Princess' death... well they must have been as powerful as the stories say to pull off magic like that. The ceiling stretched out, farther and farther, an unbelievable distance. There wasn't a single support either... Just this bumpy mass going on and on. It seemed to be made of steam or something similar, through there was no source in site. Maybe the Princesses kept it hot so that is rose to cover the real ceiling. Still, the sky had to be held up somehow and I doubted the 'clouds' (I study sometimes) were doing it. The mass must be enormous! That had to be the strongest kinetic spell in the history of Equestria. Slowly my gaze was drawn downward from the shifting mass to the borders. Some sort of jagged rocks formed the horizon, rocks of un-imaginable size. Between two, nearly straight ahead of us, shone a yellowish light. The sun? No way to tell but to watch and see if it moved I guess... And down below. I moved forward, passing Plume who was still looking at the cloud things, and reached the end of the rocky platform that the cave opened out onto. I looked down... You know, I've done some stupid things in my life. Most ponies in the Stable thing that all the little incidents are due to my not paying attention, but very few are. Most of the time I'm very... ok, pretty careful. I usually notice before I do something totally moronic. Like look down a 500 foot cliff for instance. You know, it's just that little moment of self reflection which makes all the difference. Vertigo overtook me instantly. I lost my balance and, as my luck is, continued forward over the edge. I watched with horror as I started my final plummet, only to be distracted from certain death from a terrible pain at the base of my tail. Recall, being the kind of buck to notice everything, had a good hold of my tail in his mouth. After a bit of struggle my balance was corrected and I feel backward onto him. “Why, thank you for that Recall. I'm glad my certain death was avoided. Are you okay?” I got off of him, careful not to plant a hoof on anything important. “My teeth hurt, but I will be fine. It IS good is was paying attention, as it seems our stronger members were preoccupied.” Indeed, looking around, they were only now reacting to the incident with divided attention. Plume, facing us but looking elsewhere, said “you'll be fine, ok. We should get going.” “Perhaps after everyone is willing to look where they are walking,” suggested Recall sarcastically. I took the time to continue my study of the land below, this time from a few steps back. The Wasteland seemed to be a dirty, dry sort of place. Directly Below us were hills. I saw a few farms that seemed unsuccessful scattered about. The were connected by small, deserted paths which came together and lead out to a larger path made of a black material. The distance made it hard to tell, but that path looked a bit wider; maybe a road? It connected to a collection of house and then moved out to the middle of the valley. The middle of the valley was split by a crevice in the ground running perpendicular to our mountain. I saw a bridge across it; there might have been more to the edges. Built next to the crevice, fairly centered in the valley, as a small city. I didn't pay it much attention. Normally I would claim to know a small city from a large one, but I had a great example of the later in view. On the far side of the crevice, a bit to our right as we faced out, was a city or massive proportions. It was more than 100 times the size of the other, made of blocks and blocks. It was too far for me to make out the condition of the buildings and roads. I could see a few taller buildings near the center of the city. Also obvious was a large well, offset from the center to the far side. It was too far to be sure, but I don't think any building remained in that portion of the city. Bombs indeed. A few minutes passed with nopony looking interested in leaving, but then the robot returned. Its squeaks were not as a apparent outside of the Stable Cave, bouncing outward into the massive space of the valley. He came around the corner and said, “Come on! Over Here!” He waved his arms comically and turned down a path to the right. Weary from the sight of the valley, our group slowly rose and followed the bot down. His encouraging shouts of, “Over here!” were all the conversation we heard. At one point in the twenty minute walk I thought Black Eye was going to attempt a conversation, but one look and she returned to walking head down. In single file we proceeded to whatever lay below. You might be surprised how hard it is to walk down hill. No, you aren't fitting gravity. But you are fighting your own acceleration. Truthfully, unless you are willing to run you are going to be taking a constant pounding on your knees. I wasn't about to run and, with any of my luck, go flying off an edge. Instead I kept on down the sloped surface, an ache growing in my four knees with every step. Eventually Black Eye got bored of the silence and decided to enjoy herself. This enjoyment took the form of a weird little tip-hoof step. I looked back at the unusual sound. Her legs were nearly blurring as she took huge number of tiny steps, swaying back and forth in some indeterminable pattern. At first she stumbled often, but she did less and less as I watched. Of course, then I stumbled and was forced to keep my head straight. Within a few minutes the pony had caught up to me using her little tip-step. She saw me looking a smiled before zooming off ahead. “Wait a second there, Black Eye.” I cautiously sped up to catch her and ended up sliding as I tried to slow down. She gave me that smile again as I wave my tail in a vain attempt a balance. I picked myself up as she continued by. “So, whats with the dance you've got going there? You're going to tire yourself out if you keep that up.” “Maybe, its much safer and faster than those giant steps you're taking. When I miss a step, I'm already getting ready for the next one anyway so I don't lose much balance. And I can speed up without risking my balance further.” “huh” I tried shortening my steps. Sure enough I got more stable, but I could tell that ten minutes of doing that would leave me unable to walk. I lengthened up a bit more as I responded. “Interesting theory. Where did you learn to that?” “I taught myself in the Stable, of course. Too many ponies take walking for granted. I'm gonna master it!” With a little nod of her head she scooted off ahead to catch up to Plume. The other ponies slowly began conversations. We weren't all that near to the bottom yet when we turned a corner to see a green-grey mare sitting on a wooden chair knitting. The process looked like quite an ordeal, involving three legs and her teeth, but I don't get a chance to watch as she put the half-finished piece down in shock. Mmmmm wave to her and introduced us. “Stable Dwellers! This is Mama Patches! She is will lead you to Welcome City! I must so do very important things, but you can see me later!” Turning to Mama Patches, he said “Make sure to take them to the New-U station!” With that, he turned an left us with the surprised mare. Mama Patches got to her feet. “Well hello there! We weren't expecting you for another few days, so I apologize for the lack of a welcoming party.” She picked her sewing up and opened a stone-looking door. Her voice continued on as she moved around her, well I assume it was, house. “Normally we have the openings well timed out and we have a welcoming party for new Wastelanders. Some food and friendship, and a place to stay for a few nights while you get accustomed. I make a delicious Rad-rat pie for it. Well, have to hurry to set something up anyway. The yearly party is one of the few bright points around here. Damned Calender should've let us know! Might be drunk again...” She returned out the door, now wearing a sweater and saddle bags. The sweater looked ugly; leather pads had been attached to the front and sides, totally at odds with the gray and black diamonds. Strapped to one side was a pink and white pistol. Black Eye ogled the weapon as Mama Patches turned to follow the long gone robot. I was interested myself as to why she needed that kind of protection. More evidence that we weren't in our Stable anymore. We continued down the mountain as she talked. “Now, I wasn't Stableborn myself, so I don't know exactly what you'll need to know about the Wasteland. The most obvious thing is to be careful. If you don't know what something is, leave it alone; the less attention you draw the better. If you want to stay safe, you'll find a nice town to settle down in, and when you travel between places you'll stay with a caravan. We're safe up here of course, but the valley roads aren't all that safe.” “But Miss Patches. We aren't going to stay out Here! Now that we know it's safe, we have to go back to tell the Stable so that they can all come out!” Mama Patches gave Black Eye a look of pity. “Honey, I know how nice that'd be, but it's not going ta happen. I've been living on this path for twenty years and every other some Stablepony goes back up to spread the good news to her friends. Every time, them come back down a few hours later, disappointed. Them Stable ponies don't want to hear it, I guess. Now, you don't need to worry about them any more, okay? The Wasteland ain't such a bad place, long as your careful 'bout your step.” “And its Mama Patches, honey. I ain't no spring filly to my going around called Miss.” Finally, we turned a corner and could see a small town below. The place seemed to be made entirely of rust and aluminum siding, with maybe 10 houses in all. It fit back against the cliff of the mountain, covered on all sides except one. The path we were on curves around to back, where a series of switchback led down to the back entrance. Finally, after two hours of walking, we reached the small town. Sign over the back entrance was painted with “Welcome to Rubble, Stableborn!” The white paint was turning a dull orange on the edges, showing its age. Beneath the sign was a small welcoming party. “The bot told us you were bringing some more along. I'm gonna kick Calender for this,” said a tall orange earth mare standing in the middle. She wore cracked glasses and had a open scroll Cutie Mark. Local Overmare, no doubt. She turned and smiled at our group. “Welcome to Rubble! My name is Mayor Mare,” Ooh, originality. “I'm sure Mama Patches has given you a bit of information about Rubble and the Wasteland, but we can talk more about that tomorrow. For now, we are going to have a little party, courtesy of the mmmmm corporation.” Ok, this mmmmm corporation was now officially annoying. What, did they pay off every pony in the Wastes to spout their name twice a minute? Each of us was given what I could only guess was an escort. Mine was a cute blue unicorn buck with a mmmmm cutie mark. “Hey there, what's your name handsome,” I asked. Mmmmm The blue buck blushed a pleasant shade of purple. “mmmmm. I'm your guide for the next few days, and your guard in case of an emergency.” “My own special protector! What an honor! What sort of things might I need protecting from out here?” The purple deepened. “Well, bandits mostly. They set up a camp half a mile east of here a month back and we haven't cleared it out yet. I'm also suppose to protect everyone else from you, if you, you know, end up crazy or something.” He smiled apologetically. “That happen often?” I was too interested to keep up the teasing. “Often enough. Five years back, a stablepony buckshot old Calender in the leg when a Giant Radroach crawled in his tent. He killed the thing, and then shot the mare back for the trouble... Back then we gave new stable ponies guns when they got out. Don't anymore, which is why we assign guards to keep you safe. Even in Rubble, things can get nasty sometimes.” “So, no guns for us?” “Once Doctor Nettle passes you you'll get your mmmmm gun. Til then, we just hold onto them.” “That mmmmm corporation, I keep hearing about them. What are they.” mmmmm shook his head. Was that fear? Respect? I couldn't tell. “You can learn all about that later in class. We're here for the party.” Class. Yep, the Wastelands was fulfilling all my requirements for suck. Danger from bullets, check. Danger from local wildlife, check. Danger of being forced to class by a cute gun wielding unicorn, check. The 'Party' was held inside the rusty Town Hall, a two story affair containing a large table. Large is relative, I guess; The table wasn't even the length of one of Stable 56's cafeteria tables. Still, it sat the seven of us, along with ten Rubblites (yeah, really). Apparently large group had gone out a day previous to clear out the local dangers before the planed date of our release. We wanted Rubble safe for our guests,” said Mayor Mare. The meal consisted of what was on hand, apparently. About half was various types of recycled goop. Apparently Rubble had some sort of organic processor; throw in plants and meat, receive nutritious goop. The attempts to flavor it all failed in my opinion, although I wasn't willing to try more after my first two tastes. The other dishes were a mix of food WELL past its expiration date and local cuisine. I ended up eating a bowl of Sugar Apple Bombs dry. The glass water picture was no longer clear, but the water was mostly clear. It didn't taste Bad at least, although the fact that it had a taste was slightly disturbing. After we had eaten our fill (I assume the others found something decent) the Mayor Mare stood up for a toast. Wow, I wanted what she was drinking; the tall mare was having trouble staying on her hooves. “To our honored guests! *hic* May you enjoy the rests of your respective lives in the Wasteland!” “Here Here!” The Mayor drank while leaning on a light gray pony, than sat down hard. The gray pony turned to us and said, “Would the escorts please lead the newcomers to their beds. We will continue tomorrow.” He nudged the Mayor Mare and supported her out. Mmmmm poked me. He didn't look all that sober himself. Where had they gotten the alcohol? I'd wanted to try it since I'd heard of the moonshine project back in Stable 56, but no one wanted to invite the worlds unluckiest pony to a secret gathering. Maybe they'd server more for breakfast? “Come on, I'll take you to your bed.” I ended up taking the blue buck in the direction his pointed, eventually coming to a small, one-room, metal shack containing a bed and some shelves. “If you need to relieve yourself, just go out back. Otherwise stay in here 'til the morning call. You leave and I get in trouble, so don't. He bounced off the doorframe on his way out. “Oh escort.” he looked back. I gave his my best Bedroom Eyes and said sweetly, “Wouldn't you like to keep me company to make sure I don't go anywhere?” He turned that shade of purple again, but mumbled “I don't think that would be appropriate, Miss.” He shuffled off as I quietly shouted, “Call me Hex.” He waved a hoof in acknowledgment, lost his balance and fell over. So very cute, that one. I'd have to work on him more. Sleeping on the rocks my mattress must have been stuffed with wasn't easy. Eventually I reached an uneasy equilibrium of waking up every twenty minutes to shift around. I should have followed mmmmm to his house. Surely the locals slept on better mattresses than this! Eventually I heard some pony walking around outside and decided that talking would be better than this futile endeavor. The air outside was cold, making me painfully aware that I still lacked clothes. I guess the Princesses couldn't keep the entire Wasteland warm 200 years after death. I added clothes to my Pipbucks to-do list. As I finished poking at my arm, I heard the hoofsteps stop. The pony had just come around the corner of the building next to mine and was silhouetted by the lights of the Town Hall beyond. He... it was mostly Pony shaped, but seemed to have horns coming out of his mane and back. The strange pony turned to look at me, lit up in the light from the Hall. He lifted a hoof to his mouth and whispered “shhhhh....” Then his hoof when back down to raise a shiny tube. Now, I know I'm a stable pony. I know that there are plenty of things I have no idea about, plenty of dangers that I won't even notice until it was too late. But even I recognize the danger from a pointed gun barrel. I did the only thing I could the circumstance; I slammed the door to my shack with a clang and began screaming. Like I would follow the advice of a pony holding a hand gun. Even I'm not that stupid. “FFUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK!!!!” I shouted as the door began to take hits. I threw myself to the back of the room, trying to curl up under the heavy mattress Still screaming. “GUNS! BANDITS! FIRE! AHHHHHHHHH!” I dunno, at least one of those should have awakened the locals, right? There was the sound of buzzing as bullet hit the door, swinging the unlatched sheet open. A few penetrated the curvy metal, bouncing around inside the room with deceptively quiet *tink*s. Then the door opened and the bullet swept back and forth. It was strange, but I couldn't hear the sound of gunfire. Surely I wasn't screaming that loudly. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Ah, there it is. As if by chain reaction, more guns began upening up, a cacophony of sounds mixing into the sounds of a warzone. Small, fast gunfire mixed with the slower, loud percussion of rifles. Interspersed was the BANG of a shotgun going off. Celestia's tits, this was going to hell damned fast. I mean, there is hearing about fighting a few bandits and then there is HEARING a fight with a few bandits. The sound was overwhelming, within minutes my ears could hear little but the waves of gunfire. Minutes!? It couldn't have been that long... I realized my little room was no longer under fire. I risked a quick peek over the blankets to see out the door. The entire city was lit up by bright floodlights hanging above the buildings. The area directly ahead of me seemed clear enough, but I could see flashes reflected off the buildings. I peeked my head out and searched for a better spot to bunker down in. Across the dirt street was one of the metal prefabs. Its metal garage-like door was open and the interior lit by a dying bulb. Not particularly better than where I was, unless I could get that door shut. If I could though, nothing short of an explosive would get through the thick barrier I had to give the Rubblites props, they knew how to fortify a town. I was hesitant though. Suppose I couldn't get the door closed. Running across the street would put me in the open and I had No idea as to the danger that could pose. Of course, if the fight went bad this little shack would be less than worthless. Still pondering, I noticed something which changed my mind. A gun was hanging on the back wall of the house, in between gardening implements and brooms. I couldn't tell what is was from this distance, but any type of armed was better than nothing. I poked my head out once more, gave a quick look around, and then bolted for the open doorway. I got a few steps in before the first whizzing bullet passed through my mane. I couldn't even here the discharge over the other sounds of battle, and nopony was in sight. Sniper? I dodged a bit to the left and right. Just as I reached the door, another bullet whizzed by, accompanied by a burning pain in my back leg. I stumbled the last two steps into the safety of the house and feel to the floor behind a workbench. Gun first, then leg. I looked up at the gun hanging on the wall. I moved to stand on three legs and reached out, knocking it with my nose but failing to grab it. I collapsed. Ok, leg first. Let's see, bleeding, but not too badly. I needed to wrap it soon though. The bullet had cut a furrow in the back of my leg, but it wasn't deep enough to fully cut the muscle. I'd still be able to walk when it healed, thank Celestia. Ok, cloth. Clean cloth. So many drawers before me, one must contain Something. There are times in my life where I've hated myself. Most of the time it's only a mild dislike, like when my luck decides I haven't screwed anything up in a while. Or when someone blames me for an accident on principal. But there are time when the dislike turns into full fledged self loathing, a good example being right about now. “Fucking broken horn! Open the damned shelves. I, the one you are attached to, orders it!” Yes, I realize that the normal method of unicorn/horn interaction does not involve unidirectional yelling matches. But you have to understand, my horn and I have a very special relationship. I don't try to focus to hard, and it doesn't give me three day migraines. It's a mutual non-aggression pact which is only occasionally broken when I REALLY need a gun and can't move to GET the damned thing myself. “Come on, come ON. Just a little kinetics, PLEASE.” I focused my will as Noon Shine had taught me, pushing at it for a bit of glow, so sort of movement, Something. I could feel the headache building, but damn I would succeed this time. I scrunched my eyebrows and focused on magicy thoughts, but to no avail. My concentration was broken by a THUD nearby. I looked over my shoulder to see a metal apple rolling along the floor. “What the Hay?” The apple beeped twice, then jumped into the air and exploded into balls of flaming liquid which pored downward. I was surprised and had the apple not been on the other side of the room, I would no doubt have been melted as well. As it was, I ducked under the workbench as the fire spread to the few pieces of wood in the room. The shelving when up instantly and the table began to heat up as the liquid burned atop it. With a crash, the things on the wall began to fall, flaming brooms and burning mops knocking against the table. Please, please... YES! The gun fell too and I grabbed the metal contraption to pull it toward me. My hooves burnt on the hot steel as a slid it toward the door and began to follow it out. Again, magic would nicely useful to pick up a hot gun, but at some point I was going to have to take the pain and deal with it. I blew on my hooves for a second before putting the gun into my mouth. It was big to be trying to hold that way, but I would need all my remaining legs to move, so I had no choice. With difficultly, I raised my head and walked out into the firefight. The corner was clear, but who knew where that sniper pony was. The light killed any chance I had of spotting him on the dark hills to the east, or anywhere outside the town for that matter. Instead of proceeding down the street, I turned around the corner of the house and walked as best I could into the garden it shared with four other houses. The garden itself was empty, but I could see a pony hiding ahead in the few feet opening on the other side. Hiding and shooting, I amended as the area in front of him lit up. I couldn't really tell which side the stallion (definitely a stallion) was on; he wasn't one I recognized. The flashing light didn't give me a good idea of his clothing, but I did notice spikes sticking out of his barding. Heehee, so you thought I was safely dispatched to turn our back so nicely. We'll see about that. I pointed my head precisely and fumbled with the trigger. It tasted nasty, like Oil and gunpowder, but that was hardly unexpected. Finally, to my surprise, I hit it correctly and a spray of bullet rushed toward my enemy. Ok, ouch. This thing kicked like an applebuck to the mouth and my accuracy was instantly shot. Bullets ricocheted around the stallion who, stuck between surprise fire and a coverless area, choose to run out into the open. I barely got my eyes back down in time to see him hit twice in the side, the rounds penetrating his barding and throwing him to the ground. Was of a good stallion, that, no that I felt bad of getting the bastard killed. I moved up to his firing spot, peeking out in to what seemed to be the majority of the fight. One one side, firing out of their houses were a couple of Rubblites. Plume had a rifle too and was putting her Security training to use. On the otherside were five raiders. They hugged behind buildings mostly, one was up in the water tower, using his long sniper to keep the locals pinned. All of them were out of my range, however; firing would give away my position and do little else. As I watched though saw Plume take aim an put a bullet through the snipers head. He fell backward as his gun tumbled over the edge. I took a few steps back from the corner. Better to find a way around to the Rubblite line. That or maybe I could flank the pricks and give something back. I turned around and went back into the yard. Something was off. I looked around, saw nothing, but then heard the snap of a plant to my right. I turned in time to be facing the oncoming shovel. I went down hard and blacked out. I woke up in the dark. Same night? Next day? Maybe we were just inside. I had no way to know. I moved around. My rear legs had been cuffed at the ankle, but my forelegs seemed fine. Okay, either somepony's got a nasty kink or I'm in enemy territory. Resource check. My Pipbuck was still online and seemed unharmed. It registered that I was wearing cuffs and had no other inventory. Great help that. It also pointed out that my back leg was “at 50% health.” It did still throb, but somepony had rapped it. Friendly or enemy? I felt around the small... cell. Yep, definitely enemy, unless Mayor Mare had run out of beds suddenly. Ok, time for some preemptive strategy. The cuff wouldn't be much use, but if I could get some pony on the ground maybe. I wish I had taken that personal defense class. Most of what I could come up with was from the few actions flics the Overmare showed. I mean, I suppose I could choke somepony with the chain, but how the hell was I supposed to get them in a position where that would be even remotely possible? My deliberation was cut short but approaching hooves. Ok, tackle and choke it is. I prepared to jump as the door opened... And instantly reconsidered as the first thing through the door was a nasty looking gun barrel. Plan B it is; meek and worthless. Three ponies entered, two in barding and carrying rifles. The third was a blue-gray unicorn floating a suitcase next to himself. “... and damned Maskers couldn't even take down twenty back-country ponies! With the silencers and that sniper, they should have been able to drop a minor Enclave outpost, let alone that backwash. And only one prisoner! I heard six ponies came out of the Stable and they could only find one! I swear, we have got to stop working with amateurs.” “Indeed, sir” mumbled one of the guards. He eyed me meaningfully. “Oh, don't worry about that one. We'll have her memory wiped after this is done. So, morning honey.” He looked me over, backed in the corner of the room as I was. “If you wouldn't might terribly, I'd like to ask you a few questions about Stable 56.” One of the guards set a chair down and motioned for me to sit. “In here?” I asked, looking around. “Seems a bit cramped.” “Yes, well, there isn't a better place right now. Unless you'd like to hold this outside with the raiders ogling you?” It was suddenly apparent I was the only pony not wearing clothes. “I thought not.” He nodded to the guards and they left the room. It was dark again, but then the unicorn lit his horn, a bluish glow illuminating the room. The unicorns face was kept in shadow, however; somehow he was angling the light to point only toward me. Skilled unicorn, check. He opened his mouth to speak, only his outline and the bobbling of his horn showing the movement. “Now, I'm a nice unicorn most days, but I really need some straight answers today. Toward that end, I'm going to cast a spell on you. Don't worry, it won't hurt. And afterward you'll be released into the Waste, free as you like. Of course, I'll have to make sure you forget this conversation as well, but that won't hurt either, so don't worry at all.” He flashed me a charismatic smile. “Now, the spell will work better if you cooperate, of course. If you do not, I might be forced to use other techniques to keep you in line. Neither of us would like that.” He flipped his suitcase open a removed a notebook, pencils, and a beautifully bound book. “A spellbook, really. Don't you find that a bit archaic?” I asked. He shook his head sadly, “You aren't the first pony to say that, but you'd be surprised how much we can still learn from the old texts. Now then, Lets begin.” The glow on his horn doubled as a layer of overglow formed. There was No way I was going to let this happen. I jumped forward. Guards gone, Tackle plan activate. I got about halfway out of my seat before another layer of overglow appeared and I was lifted off the floor. Then a Fourth layer appeared. Dear Celestia and Luna, how the hell did he get that much power! Small beads of sweat were appearing on his brow, but he was holding all four layers stable. “oh... okay.” Yep, definite strain. Not that it helped me in the least. With magic of my own there was no way to stop him. “I've stopped any magic you could try, so don't try” In his state, even a minor power might have broken one of his spells. Of course, he could just drop the light spell and you'd still be screwed, but his asking was fairly transparent. “Now, to start with, what defenses does your Stable have against invasion.” A sort of wave passed over me as he asked. It was calming, like a nice massage, and I suddenly felt much more at ease with the stallion. I wondered idly why he would ask as I said, “one hundred security ponies armed with shocksticks and tonfas. The are some turrets in the interior of the vault door. Also, there is a small armory on the second floor with twenty of so guns. Nopony has been in there in years, but supposedly they all work. Do we need more than that?” “Please don't ask questions, just answer. Now, how many ponies live inside.” “Six hundred, but sometimes it goes higher. Anytime somepony has a baby we have to throw another pony out to keep it balanced. I got thrown out this time. They didn't like me much inside, I caused too much trouble. Do you like me?” I hoped so. I didn't like all the mean ponies. “Stop, with the questions. Now, when exactly to they release the extra ponies.” His light spell started to go out, but the other spells emit enough to keep the room visible. “Well, once every year. Its the same day every year, the Exploration Day. It's a very happy day, but everypony is sad too, because the explorers never come back. Are you feeling well mister, you don't look to good?” “I'm fine, now stop asking q... questions!” His voice didn't sound very nice. I don't think he liked me... “Why?” “Because the true spell goes both ways it could... STOP ASKING QUESTIONS! The spell should be keeping you calm, damn it.” Yep, definitely a mean pony. I hated mean ponies. “I don't want to stop and you can't make me.” “Oh, don't bet on it.” I dropped to the ground suddenly. “I'll just have to punish you for being such a bad pony.” My coat started to itch suddenly, but... something wasn't right. Why was the bad pony asking me about the Stable? Why did he keep yelling at me? What was he trying to punish me? Slowly my confusion solidified. It didn't matter, he was being mean. It was his magic that was doing all this stuff to me. The itch, the truth thingy. No, it needed to “STOP!” He jumped with surprise, but the itching kept building into a weak pain across my whole body. Well if he wouldn't stop... I pushed forward. His lift spell had been turned into a barrier which blocked my way, but I didn't give up. I pushed harder and slowly my hooves began to slide through. It was like pushing through jello, but as I just my hooves father in it started to soften. Soon I was walk-swimming toward him, the pain building. He struggled to keep his face composed as I moved through his no-longer solid magic. The sweet face from his entrance was twisted into rage. He focused to bring forth another barrier behind his previous. I ran into it, now bathing in his magic, but it stopped me. I had to end this somehow. If I didn't I'd be writhing on the ground. Already my legs shook. But what... I didn't have magic... That small thought was all it took and twenty years of unused magic came to the fore. My horn, so long dormant, blazed into a black glow. Glow is the wrong word perhaps; the black was more like an ink, seeping out and swirling in the air. Where it touched the blue magic it began to mix with it. The swirling chaos moved down from my horn inside the wall, and when it reached my hooves the solid mass disappeared. Like an acid, my magic began to eat at the other. Where it touched me, the pain disappeared; where it touched the wall, it dissolved. I would have spent more time being impressed if there hadn't been a stallion in need of a serious ass-kicking in front of me. The fucker had tried to mind control me! He'd dared to put me under bonds and threaten me. I'd show him some threat! “Oh... oh shit.” He started at me wide eyed, the triple glow of his horn slowly fading with the presence of his magic. “guards. GAURDS!” He stumbled backward to grab the door, fumbled trying to open it, and then kicked it with all his strength. The buck bent the door, but achieved no more than to lock it in place. A dark smile lit my face. “It about time my luck hit someone else. No, lets have a little talk, yes? I promise it won't hurt unless you struggle.” My anger and rage built and the black fog built with it. The last of the blue sparks were engulfed and darkness fell. My wild pounding of the unfortunate buck was ended but the guards finally shooting down the door. It was much to late for their leader by that point. I'd smashed down onto his chest to flatten his ribcage. Pieces of his bone sat like splinters in my hooves and his blood covered my front and face. My cuffs had been of use after all, a lengthy process of pulling them across his neck have split ended when his spine snapped and his head lay broken to the side. The guards, seeing their charge dead, opened fire. Point blank range, I should have been dead, but the black fog pored out the door and clouded their vision. With the lights of fire and metal streaming past, I ducked between them and passed behind. I kicked out the back legs of the one on the left, and as he fell grabbed the pistol from his saddle. The black fog clarified at my gaze and I saw the second turning to see my form rising from the smoke. This time there was no difficulty or hesitation; I put a bullet through his head, then fired twice more. The other buck, scrambling at my feet, received the rest of the clip. Finished, I tossed the wasted gun away and lifted their rifles in my magic instead. I turned to look out at a milling crowd of bucks and mares, clad in spiked barding and hockey masks. One by one, they aimed there weapons elsewhere. “The name's Nightmare. Welcome to the Wasteland.”
SS4: Introduction of Ru57Level 1 energy report: Array 1: <1% Array 2: <1% Array 3: <1% Array 4: <1% Array 5: 2.4% Array 6: <1% Array 7: 14.7% Threshold reached. Initiate level 2... Level 2 status report: Battery Level: 0.07% + .00063% per min. Cooling system: minimally functional Core function: minimally functional Stage 1 memory: 27% intact startup v*memory_fix_1 at high priority Evaluation: Stable. Initiate level 3... >--------------------------------------------------< So many years ago, that great war. Ponies, realizing the power of coal, started down the road of industrial revolution with a fury. To feed the growing demands, made a pact with the zebra tribes to the south. Coal for jewels was the agreement and with that trade both prospered. Convenience and innovation became the key points of the new societies. New and bigger, the ponies and zebra pushed their respective sciences to their limits, and when they reached those limits, they invented new ones. But not all that is new is good. So high did they climb with their technology and advancement that they left their old morals behind. Soon the push for more and better became to great, the demand outstripping supply for both civilizations. And when peaceful methods failed, the new concept of war was employed. At first limited, with the tragedy of Shattered Hoof neither side wished for peace. The war became a good thing, something to be continued, a unifying beacon by which progress was spurred and advancement directed. And in the end, their advancement did save some of them from the destruction they had created. The mutual destruction which was sure to come fell most heavily on Equestria, but the ponies had prepared. A small number escaped total annihilation by hiding in Stables, beneath the now scorched land. For a time, Equestrian soil lay empty, only the wayward ghoul able to live on. The Equestrian Waste was a desolate place. What few towns existed were spread distant from one another. Barely traveled roads spanned the distances between them, bisecting the burnt face of the once green countryside. Between these lanes laid lawless expanses of irradiated fields and blasted crags. What animal life remained became mutated beyond previous recognition. It was in this land that Ru57 spent his first two decades. A lonely robot, made for a battle that ended without him. His programming did not allow him to stop with it, so he hunted on. When zebra proved to be in short supply, new targets were found: rad-roachs, mmmmm, and zombies. It was a long time before he could tell ghouls and zombies apart; one ran away from him, the other toward. The wastelands emptied around him, either by his gun or their own will. Still, Ru57 walked on, through mud and dirt and snow. >--------------------------------------------------< Level 3 report: RFleg: immobile. LFleg: immobile. RBleg: immobile LBleg: 10% mobility. Attempting motion in LBleg... Level 1 reports array 7 @ 23% power. Repeating. Level 1 reports array 7 @ 25% power and array 5 @ 3% power. Repeating... Level 3 report cont.: Core function @ 13%. Stage 1 memory: 47% intact. Pending v*memory_fix_1... Primary motherboard integrity... confirmed Initiate Level 4. Level 4 report: Primary sensor grid: 10% intact Secondary sensor grid: 17% intact. Stage 2 memory: 10% intact. startup v*memory_fix_2 at high priority Internal generator: nonfunctional Secondary generator: nonfunctional Evaluating options ... ... ... ... ... Conclusion reached. Initiate level 2 internal clock, 100 tick timer. Starting internal repair talisman on battery power... pulse power as per counter. Level 2 report battery holding stable over time... continuing. Initiate Level 5. >--------------------------------------------------< As all machines do, Ru57 began to wear down. An internal repair talisman cannot fix everything. Nor did his programming require he power it for the long period that would have been required. Ru57 learned slowly, when at all, and it wasn't something he noticed. After all, with his kill count it was expected to have some damage. In fact, his kill count was far beyond his programmed expectations, a success, to be sure. Eventually, though, even he was forced to admit a need for help. His solar cells had become covered in dust, not something the talisman could fix. Normal wear and tear were fine, but near constant sand scouring and intermittent rain were damaging things that could not be repaired. He had been made for sun and battle, not the hard conditions that existed then. It took a while for Ru57 to locate a suitable site. My ponies simply ran if he approached their town. Other began firing on him, which usually ended with them dead and him continuing to break. Eventually, fed up with so much failure, he began attempting other variations of the situation. Once, he shot first, while asking for help. Another time he sneaked into town at night, and waited in the center to ask. But it wasn't until, running short of ideas, he came to a giant city and just refused to leave. He asked the guard, who wouldn't let him in, for help, but was told no. So he sat in front of the guard office asking for help once every day. Then once an hour, and then once a minute. They tried to push him, but they could not move something of his weight. When they brought ropes, he very precisely shot them to pieces. Then they tried at night, no knowing, perhaps, that he stored solar power in a battery for night work. They tried shooting him in the end, but he simply ignored the bullets. It was unlikely he would make it to another town anyway. Finally, the guard brought the mayor. After a very careful discussion about times of departure and costs for support given, a bargin was struck and Ru57 was brought to the best mechanic in the area. Eighty years of dust and carbon scoring were removed, a nice oil bath taken, and he was let on his way. Ru57's portion of the bargain was twofold. First, to clear out a nearly Stable which had been troubling the townsfolk. Secondly, he was to leave to immediate area, not to return for fifty years. This seemed fair to him. He was, no doubt, the best fighter in the area, so the clearance should naturally fall to him. It was unlikely he would need another maintenance in the next fifty years, so the option of returning was not removed either. >--------------------------------------------------< Level 5 final report: Level 1 through 4 operating correctly. Core functional Memory Stages 1 and 2 functional Memory Stage 3 attempting recovery Sensors minimally functional Internal generators, nonfunctional Solar panel dependance cleared Memory Stage 1 and 2 backed up onto Stage 3. Memory Stages 1 and 2 cleared All systems ready for Core boot. Initiate stage 6. Level 6 initiated successfully. Activating sensor banks. High pressure along front, side, and top sensors. Zero pressure along rear sensors. Slight motion noted along back left flank, pattern matches wind. Medium temperature along all sensors. Noise levels at -10 deci-Bucks. Air composition shows large deviation from norms: +2% Rust -.3% Oxygen -1.7% Nitrogen Electrical field minimal. Magnetic field nominal. North located. Magical field minimal. Pressure readings suggest potential urgency... Initiate Level 7. >--------------------------------------------------< The Stable was numbered 24. Stable-Tec records listed it as an 'experimental' Stable, which could mean anything. Most Stables were labeled experimental, only a few labeled control instead. Further information was classified. Ru57 noted the motions in the ventilation, the slight sounds only audible do to the silence they interrupted. He continued deeper into the Stable, looking for an access point. He located multiple. At each one he followed the same procedure. Open and spray in both direction before the abominations could run. He left the covers off, in the hopes that a few stupid individuals might exit the vents. Eventually he came to the atrium. Rotten flash covered the ponies along the floor, holes blown out along their bodies. At first Ru57 suspected large caliber weaponry, but it proved to by some sort of biological problem. More importantly, the small beasts were starting to gather. Where as he'd seen a few previously, now a population of forty seven grouped. Smart enough for a combined assault? Indeed, they came forward en mass. His energy rifle opened up, splitting scaly bodies left and right. Plenty made it to him, but their fangs and claws had no effect on his metal body. Accurately and efficiently, he dispatched the rest. As he left, Ru57 closed the door to the Stable. Even the few left would die from starvation, assuming nopony opened the door again. He considered informing the mayor, but kept to the contract. Again he was off, looking for new enemies. >--------------------------------------------------< Level 7 initialized. Weapon status, in-operational. Visual status, low operational. Combat status, low. Avoid combat of danger 2 or greater Visual analysis begun... Zero light conditions noted, Visual analysis ended. Minor neck motion has not cleared vision. Initiate Level 8 for further instructions. Level 8 initiated successfully, starting new log. Internal clock mistake (beyond bounds) noted, restarting. Log Date: 00000000y:000000000d:00000h:000000m:000010s Warning: Massive memory loss due to oxidation. Warning: Large amounts of data lost during reboot. Log: All operation critical data saved, most operation dependent data saved. Warning: Nearly all non-essential data lost or dropped during reboot. Warning: sensors reporting failure. Danger: generators reported as failing. Warning: potential danger in area. Log: All systems clear for high-level restart. Initiate Level 9. >--------------------------------------------------< Ru57 wandered for another forty years, now much more careful about his own maintenance. He collected a set of saddlebags, in which he began to carry extra components, stripped from defeated mechanical targets. One of his eyes went out, and he spent a full month attempting to make another. Later, a knee servo snapped. Unable to find a suitable replacement, he modified both his rear legs to take a more severe model he could find. No as efficient, but undoubtedly more powerful. He spent those years skirting the edge of the Mojave, eventually coming to the western edge. Here he reached the edge of his map. Attempts to access the central database were unsuccessful; the local radio towers had decayed as well. He chose to go South, rather than continue without or return the way he'd come. Into the Mojave the lone robot walked. His end came suddenly. Walking along the base of a canyon, a rock wall gave way. Ru57 dodged the first boulder, and the second, but the continued barrage forced him to toward the crumbling cliff. Eventually he could dodge no longer and was caught beneath a way of rock and silt. When his attempts at movement proved ineffective, the robot closed down, leaving only his lowest process monitoring incoming energy. He hoped that the panels might one day be uncovered and power restored, allowing him to walk the Wasteland once more. >--------------------------------------------------< Level Nine active. Checking logs... come to alert. Potential danger. Sensors indicate high pressure. Low power noted. Attempting to back into clear area. Activate rear leg servos at full. Checking... increased movement achieved. Reversing... Pressure dropping along front sensors. Continue... Pressure dropped to reasonable on front and side sensors, top sensors still report high pressure. Activate visual and scan. Rubble obstructions present. Attempt climbing pattern... Immediate danger averted. Initiate Level Ten. >--------------------------------------------------< A rock drops from the canyon wall, taking a layer of sand with it. In the sliding sand, a metal surface gleams. It protrudes of the hill slightly, the sand settling around it. Then a shaking and the sand picks up speed again. More and more of the surface is revealed, the plated rear end of a pony-shaped robot. Noses begin to sound within, electric crackle and magical powering. Suddenly, the legs kick and sand is thrown in every direction. More and more, the mound slides down. Then the metal disappears, sliding further into the sand. For minutes, nothing. Then the metal head appears, now much higher, coming from between two rocks. The body follows soon after. Rust orange, sand still sliding from its metal hide, the pony survey the surroundings. The last of the sand finally slips off, revealing the engraving that stood in place of a cutie mark. Ru57 finally stands again. >--------------------------------------------------< Level Ten Initialized. Welcome back, Ru57. Log Date: 0000y:000000000d:00000h:110011m:100110s Location: Unknown (map corrupted) Objective: Unknown (memory corrupted). Defaulting to 'Discover Previous Objective'. I looked across the desert waste to the North. I couldn't remember much... I'd taken heavy damage to long-term memory. But I thought I'd come from the desert. I had plenty of memory space purportedly allocated to those memories. The path went North-South, with a mountain to the east and the canyon to the west. I turned South and considered. It looked similar to the north, but less sand and more dried dirt. I couldn't see far due to the path's curve and the intervening mountains. I needed repairs. I added that to my Objective list. I also needed weapons, now the third objective. The desert to the north had been... empty? My map was nonfunctional... I had no way to be sure. Just the corrupted shadows of memories hinting Not worth returning to. Better to head South. I took one last scan of the area, charting the geography add mapping it to my memory. Better to have a local scan than nothing at all. Content, I proceeded South, determined to get in a few miles before the sun set and I was forced to stop. Once more for the Princess and Equestria's honor. >--------------------------------------------------< Eventually the sun dropped behind the mountains and I was forced to battery power. I put in another 3 miles before that had reached dangerously low levels. Having little other choice, I set myself down on the far East edge of the trail and shut down, waiting for the morning sun. It was with much surprise that I reawakened. My lower levels had been perturbed by something. Level 7 report: Danger: Magical field approaching. Magical Power: low-grade megaspell. Well, that would do it. A Zebra superweapon tends to override anypony's idea of 'safe'. I lit my eyes and stared at the path. A white figure, pony sized, approached. My eyes were malfunctioning... I could not determine much about it. Probably carrying the megaspell. I checked my power (Battery Level: 0.57). Enough for maybe one good applebuck off the edge. I'd have to be careful about power use though. I turned off my eyes, relying on my field detector to keep tabs on the ponies location. It stopped a few feet in front of me. Damn, I'd hope to attack when the pony was forced to pass between me and the canyon drop. Other options... “Not be alarmed, my good robot. I mean you no harm.” The light, lilting voice was... comforting? Vocal analysis needed a Serious retune if it thought a megaspell-carrying pony was trying to be comforting. I replied from where I lay. “I doubt your words. Please, citizen, maintain a twenty foot distance while I decide upon a course of action.” The white pony backed up. Damn, what did I say! Somewhere between my thoughts and my speech centers a wire or two was crossed. My speech processing units duly informed me that I was speaking unintelligible gibberish. From her new position, the pony began again. “I will need your help soon. If you continue along this path, you meet a strange little pony. Help her, and she will help you find repairs. Once you are ready, look for my symbol. I have a great deal for you to do.” I began again. “I fear I cannot aid you, my lady, for by my oath to Equestria I must defeat all those found carrying megaspells. Prepare yourself.” Again, she was backing up! I would have to do this quickly. I got to my feet and ran at her full tilt. With a leap, my servoes screeching, I tackled... thin air. I was so surprised I quit paying attension to my landing, but level 9 took over at the last second to keep me from falling off the cliff. Now below minimum power, I shut down all systems accept for auditory. I set it to record and dropped to level 4. I'd hear the words when the sun rose. Assuming I was still intact... Level 4 routing all audio to Level 8 logging buffer. Level 2 reports battery at: 0.22% -.00002%/minute Forced shutdown of Level 4 in 3 hours...
SS5: Introduction of Plumemmmmm stood with his head pressed agianst the metal door to the infermary. His wife, mmmmm, was inside. So to, he hoped, was his first son or daughter. The sound had died down... that was good right? But no crying. Was the baby ok? It should be crying, right? He struggled for a moment, considering breaking down the door. It would be difficult, but that wasn't the point. He needed to know! “Mister mmmmm! Please take a seat!” The nurse shouldered him off the door and into a seat. Then she went inside, shut the door in his face before he could glimpse inside. “I want to see my wife. I should be allowed in. Maybe if I go find somepony... no. What If they come out while I'm gone! Oh goodness, something must be wrong.” The worried stallion gnawed at his hooves. Finally the door opened again. The nurse nodded to him as she walked out, gesturing to him with a hoof. “well? Go see!” The mare's oddly disapproving tone bounced right off the potential father he bounded in, tripping over his questions. “Is she, everything, alive, happy, good, yes?” Doctor Twoheart raised an eyebrow and nodded to the already sleeping baby and smiling mother. “Congratulations,” he said. “You are the father of Stable 56's first pegasus.” Growing up as a pegasus in a world designed for only earth ponies and unicorns was awkward, in a blaring obvious, trumpet blast to the face sort of way. Everyone had heard about me, of course. The Chosen 500 radio channel took care of that before I'd eaten my first meal. My rather public flight around the atrium my second year kept everyone well aware. I don't even remember the darn think; my first memory is my mother tying my wings down before sending me to class, years later. It wasn't until my eighth year that they finally quit doing that, more because I'd outgrown even the atrium than because they trusted me. By that point, I was used to checking earth pony on forms. As nice, kind, and goodhearted as my parents were, they never quite came to terms with my wings. They were Stableborn. for them, average was the only safe place to be. They constantly worried about me being picked on or treated unequally, but I think they were more worried for themselves. I never had problems with teachers or friends; I was smart enough not to show off. It was only when my parents intervened that I really had problems. They pushed their worries onto others, forced them to assume the role. By my thirteenth year I was ready to get out. The fastest path to get out of school was security. Not because they wanted dumb ponies, rather the opposite. The security ponies were some of the best trained, often working both as security and in another position, and they had additional schooling which kept me out of the house. Even more important, students were given first priority on new rooms. I worked hard to start at the top of my class and was awarded with my own room my fifteenth year. Security had another benefit to it, one I hadn't anticipated. Security ponies had a respect from the Stable crowd. Ponies started looking at my barding rather than my wings. It was specially modified to minimize their profile of course. It was at the end of my Security training that I first aspired to something greater. My teacher, good old One Eye, shook my hoof at the graduation cerimony. He nodded to my wings and said kindly, “so, you have any plans to use those?” I was pushed off the stage by the next graduate, and thus had two days to think of a response before I could talk to him again. “Yes. Can you teach me how?” The veterine laughed. “You're still thinking like a student, Plume. Think like an Officer. Where inside this Stable can you put your wings to work?” “Well... I can't really think of a place, sir. Maybe if somepony tried to pull something in the atrium, but otherwise...” “Good, you've got the point then. Nowhere inside will do. So, what are your other options.” “Um, I suppose there is the outside, sir. But nopony volunteers to go outside! Beside, what would my parents think.” “Well, I don't know what they'd think. And in the case of your future, I don't really care. They've done their best to protect you from imagined threats, but it was you who got yourself into Security. It was your determination and skill that got you the recognition you wear. So you'll forgive an old stallion for beleiveing it's you who will find yourself a place to be fully you.” “It was you who brought this up,” I noted rhyly. “Why, so it was. I'm known to have good ideas from time to time.” One Eye winked. “If you're interested, meet me in my office this afternoon. We can call it post-graduate study if you like.” I began studying directly under One Eye. I read every book we had on Equestria and Phoenix, the nearest town. Many were simple filly's books, others were detailed archiological maps and technical diagram. I read them and more, strange texts of the world after the war. The Wastelands, as it was called now. I've no idea how One Eye had obtained them and I didn't ask. They never left his study. One Eye taught me other things as well. He made mockups of animals out of protein bars and carpet so that I could learn to skin and cook. He brought out samples of plants, talked at length about their properties. He took me to the training room for sparing, where he taught me styles totally outside the normal for a Security officer. Techniques meant to maim and kill, do deal with armed opponents when unarmed, to deal with multiple attacks at once. I had trouble with it all. I wasn't all that smart, despite my grades; it was dedication that had earned me my place then and it was with dedication that I pulled through now. Slowly, I read, learned, and understood. Two years later, at the age of twenty, I volunteered for the Exploration Party. It was held once yearly. The extra population of the Stable was kicked out into the Wasteland under the pretense of scouting. None had come back, which scared me until One Eye explained. The Overmare had received plenty of messages that it was livable outside, but none to convince her it was safe. Our refuge relied on keeping the doors closed, and so we did. But I would not die the second I hit wasteland soil. One Eye, of course, laughed when I admitted the fear to him. “You really think I would have spent the last two years training you in all that if thought you'd die? I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place!” “And here all this time I thought I was the one who came up with going outside.” He's constantly reminded me of that 'fact' when I struggled with a form or thick text. “Well, I suppose you are right of course. My memory must be going.” He gave me another conspiritorial wink. The party was standard, as far as such things went. Few ponies besides the chosen seven were present. Of them, only myself and an earth pony named Recall had an family to say goodbye to. The Overmare chose smartly in that way. My Parents were both bawling, of course. Something about how their one child was leaving them. I tuned it out. If they'd wanted another child, they could have had one, but the two of them were to scared to 'have to play favorites'. Not that I didn't love them, but five year out of the house had not been enough time to entirely quell my dissatistfaction. One Eye, on the other hoof, was determined to spend the party quizing me and cramming any fact he might have forgotten into my head. I answered idly, getting darn near most of the questions correct. Reallizing my preoccupation, he gave up. “Worried about it.” “Nothing so concrete. Apprehensive, more like. I know I'm probably the best prepared pony to leave Stable 56 since its creation, but that doesn't alleviate my fear of something extraordinary happening.” “Oh, something will.” One Eye asserted certainly. “It all ways does. But you've go a brain about you and plenty of spunk. You'll see yourself through.” “You sound like I'm going to take a walk in your backyard. So, you've been there?” I'd never asked before, though he knew I suspected. I mean, where else do you get that much Wasteland related material? “Well know, that would be telling. I will say this. Don't be so sure you're the best prepared pony to leave Stable 56.” He gave me another wink, but before I could respond the Overmare to the stage and began proceedings. Even that wouldn't have stopped me, had I not been the first pony called up and congratulated. By the time I'd returned to my seat, One Eye had left. In his seat sat a note, and stack of books, and my barding. 'I bargained the Overmare into letting you take these out with you. Took quite plenty of pulled strings, lots of applied leverage, and a not insignificant quantity of Wonderglue. It's not the weaponry I was hoping for, but it will give you a definite advantage. As best you can, protect the others. Even if they won't travel with you, having companions living in the Waste can be a big help. And quit worrying! You're going to find your wings and I'd better hear about it when you do.' The note was unsigned, of course. The Exploration Day banquet was massive, as always. Explorers were given first choice of food and tradition dictated that they stuff themselves. Last meal of the dead and all. I ate until I was full, but no more. One Eye would have shot me himself if I'd done otherwise. The banquet ended and we were sent back to sleep one last night. Strange to have us eat so much, we'd just be hungry again in the morning. I had stolen enough scraps to fill myself in the morning too. I dreamed of flying that night.
SS6: Introduction of OmniWhen the war first started, Queen Chrysalis knew within hours. The changeling spy network had spies on both sides, of course. We'd heard of the tensions over coal and gems, the hunger of both empires for their favored resource. In fact, a changeling had been directly involved drafting in the first trade agreement. The loosened borders agreement allowed us better access into zebra lands, and we spent the next 10 years studying them. But after the Massacre at Littlehoof, things started to go down hill. The casualties on both side spread grief throughout the kingdom of Equestria. The zebra side fared worse, their massive losses leading them to construct greater machinations to make up for lost soldiers. But sides focused their gaze more totally on the annihilation of their enemy. Hate and mourning reigned supreme. Those were bad times for the changeling race. The love which we needed to live off became more and more scarce. We were still having trouble feeding from zebra and soon our spies abroad were forced to return. The Queen looked into other options. Surely there was a source of love somewhere. But of those few places unaffected by the war, all were populated by races outside our ability to emulate. It would take generations of breeding to become compatible, but we didn't have the time. Bereft of other options, our Queen reduced the size of the swarm. When shortages continued, she called in the only contact she had left, a past enemy who just might have the heart to help the dying race. The meeting between Queen Chrysalis and Princess Celestia was carried out in the utmost secrecy. By this point in the war, Luna held the throne, but Celestia's knowledge of the workings of the new government was significant. Somehow, a pact was formed. Changelings were given secret positions in the Ministries of Peace and Moral. In the ministry of Peace, they took the form of loved ones to comfort patients. Their love was enough to sustain the agents, and in turn others in the swarm. Of course, the agents were closely monitored by the ponies. Authorization was not given without long deliberation. Any changeling caught in an unplanned visit was sent back, and soon the Queen had to rein in her subjects before they broke all trust. In the ministry of Moral, changeling agent were given two taskes. Some were charged with infiltration of suspect groups. Here, our previous skill as spies was put to best use, and soon Pinkie Pie herself commanded the most elite group. Our other command was to replace ponies secretly in custody. While both were chellenging, enjoyable work, neither provided the level of love which the swarm required. The swarm continued to shrink. The Queen was desperate, but there simply wasn't enough left in a wartorn world to support our race. Our numbers dropped to ten thousand, then five thousand. The end of our race looked near. The Queen, in a last attempt, laid eggs for one hundred new queen. Such a thing was not done. Normally, even a dying queen would lay only five, to let them struggle for dominance. In this way the race was made stronger. But the hundred eggs were laid, each covered in a thick web and the queen-to-be put into a deep sleep. The eggs were given to the remains of our spies and spread throughout the lands of Equestria and zebra-kind. With love, the eggs would open and the new Queens emerge. Until then, each egg would sleep for centuries, a millennium if necessary, as long as it took for ponies and zebras to reestablish themselves. Then the Queen prepared to fight us to fight to the last one, hoping to scratch a out a survival. The bombs fell. The ponies disappeared into their stables, the zebra retreated back into their land. A very few changeling made it into Stables under false identities, but it was obvious that the lifeweb which bound us together would soon fail. It was then that Queen Chrysalis realized her mistake. The swarm was built around her, its purpose to do her wish. The swarm of the Changeling had always been centered on a Queen, just as our lifeweb was centered in her being. Without her, the current swarm would die; but the eggs had been laid to make future swarms. This constant matriarchy had caused her to forget one thing... even a Queen needs mates. With hours left to live, the Queen performed her final spell. She took her life and shattered the lifeweb, but by doing breaking it intentionally she achieved what no Queen had before. The males were left alive after the death of their queen. The loss of the lifeweb hurt immensely, and their ability to fed from their fellow in the Stables was lost. But with this abandoning came a new freedom to act independently and to die independently. The Queens last wish echoed in our hearts. Live on, my sons, as many of you as can. Find the eggs, nurture them, and bring back our race. Do whatever it takes. -Excerpt from The Verbal History of the Changelings, as recorded at Tenpony Tower one hundred years after the war. The first 20 years after the war had not been that bad. Yes, the radiation was terrible and you had to stay to the mountains. But for the most part, the Wastes were devoid of the horrors which came later. The radiation monsters and the enervation fields hadn't spread yet. The raiders and psychos weren't really out in force yet. On the whole, the Wastelands was mainly deserted. Not that deserted was any less deadly to my kind. We spread out, trying not to fight over reasources. A few settled down in the valleys between the old Equestria and zebra lands. The hill folk there still lived and the radiation wasn't bad. I arrived too late to secure myself a spot though. The temptation to fight over the remaining ponies was great, but our Queen's last message was strong. I left the lucky ones to their feast. Even more attempted to infultrate the Enclave. Many of our previous Ministry of Peace and Moral were able to use their old identities to get through the clouds (although quite a few added wings to their old bodies). Others of us tried to break through the cloud barrear, but less of us were successful there. After seeing a friend struck by lightning, I decided to move on to other prospects. Eventually I found a small settlement far to the north. The climate was freezing, especially for my race. My wings wouldn't work in the harsh landscape, so I took the for of an earth pony. For twenty years I was hungry, feeding off the edges of the camp's companionship. Finally, however, I had to leave. I could not age my copied body, so I left before suspicion forced me out. I returned south to find an Equestria regrowing. Regrowing in every way possible to an glowing dirt clod, that is. Rad roaches were everywhere. Rad-rats were the only mammal still around. Plants... nope. An still, the Wasteland was empty of food for my kind. I traveled south to the mountains, but if any of my kind remained in the Highland population, they did not recognize me. I lived there for ten years, in a small corner house. My cover was as a Stableborn, which turned out to be a mistake. The Highlanders never fully trusted me, in part blaming My Kind (stableborn, not changeling) for the war. Eventually I left there as well, never having made contact with a brother. I traveled east this time, finding nothing but ruins. This was the center of old Equestria. The mmmmm Forest was darker than ever. The pink cloud still spilled from Canterlot. Manehatten and Fillydelphia were nothing but waste. The farther East I traveled, the worse an idea this looked. Finally, I realized I could not make it back to the Highlanders. I had spent too much. On my last legs, I searched the landscape below for something and came upon a ghoul settlement. I had no idea wether it would be possible to fedd off them or not, but I had little choice. A changeling feeding off a ghoul is much like what I assume a pony feels when feeding off a corpse. There's something there to eat, of course; ghouls have bonds just as ponies do. Well, they are ponies, but you get my meaning. But their love is rotten, like they have just been repeating that love for years without any progression. Even their new relationships taste stale. And you can be sure that what you're feeding off is poisoning you somehow. Those were a bad few months. Every now and then I'd get sick and loss my ability to hold form. I'd have to hide myself for days, starving in the hope that I'd be well enough to feed soon. It was a vicious cycle that I'm sure would have killed me, if not for a newcomer to the camp. The blossoming new relationships were what originally pulled me out of my illness. The were fresh...er than the others. They were strong enough that I could feed on them without having to leave my one-room. I gathered my strength and one day made it out to meet the stranger. His name was Eternity and he was unlike anything I'd seen before. The zony wore metal wings which were screwed into his back. His stripes were orange, the product of a thirty year old re-coloration spell favored during the war. He carried himself with dignity and exuded self-confidence. More importantly, he was kind. He went among the ghouls, lending a hoof, giving appreciation and warmth. For me, he was like a twelve course banquet after 30 years of starvation. I nearly puked. He didn't plan on staying, of course, but neither did I. When he left, I accompanied him. Somewhat against his wishes, I'll admit, but I wasn't about to let him go. His happiness in the face of Wasteland dangers was astonishing. He had some unending inner hope which kept him going. Eternity and I traveled for thirty years. We battled monsters pony and otherwise. We suffered radiation sickness, enervation, and pink cloud. We looted mines and graves, offices and ministries. And everywhere we met ponies, we worked to make a better world. I'd told him what I was nine years after we met following a very suspisious breakout. I expected to be rebuffed, but he was more than accepting. We made use of my abilities after that; I'd seen and copied so many ponies by this point that I was practically a library of the Wastes. To often, the ponies whose form I took were dead. By the end, Eternity was pretty ripped up inside. Despite all the good we were doing, he couldn't deal with all the atrocities we'd had to commit. Massacres to make somewhere safe. Assisted suicides and witnessed rapes. Death haunted his thoughts too much. He thought of himself as a dying breed, one of many who needed to leave the Wasteland so that it could rise above the dark necessities. He was a optimist. I disagreed with him, sometimes violently. The stables were beginning to open, one by one. Someone needed to lead the new ponies, make sure they didn't repeat the mistakes they'd stayed locked on the other side of the door from. The raiders were subdued, but their ideas would always be present. But he was done with it all, content in what he'd accomplished and hopeful for a world without him. I'll admit, I loved him. The last twenty years, we had become lovers on occasion, but it was always a 'one time thing'. He had kept me happy and healthy far beyond the longest recorded age for my race (Queens excluded). He had taught me how to return love, how love strengthened when shared rather than drawn from. Eternity had introduced me to a world foreign to changeling kind. One day, he disappeared. I searched, of course, but Eternity was the best tracker in the wasteland. He his steps, had taken off in the opposite direction from his path, even bathed to hide his smell from my slightly more sensitive nose. I followed his path to the Ocean, but never found him. Perhaps he just kept flying into the beautiful sunrise... I returned to our camp to break the news to our traveling companions. They were all for continuing his previous mission, but I was done. I wanted to go find death myself, but I could not leave my race abandoned. For days I wept, until five days after the disappearance, a small robot approached me. I watched with interest as the flying bot traveled the flat, wasted land I sat in, definitely coming for me. That was how I first met Watcher. “I'm a friend of Eternity's. I've been watching you for almost forty years, from when you first returned to Equestrian lands. I've seen your dedication, and It tares at me to see you hopeless. I have something to show you...” The little bot opened and released Eternity's note to me. 'My Dear, I have decided to go on, but I do not wish you to stop your quest on account of me. I have a request for you, and two gifts.' 'First, a collection of my memories and a reader. I told you much of my past, but not everything. When you have time, use the reader. I hope you will understand after you've seen my life during the war.' 'Second, a copy of my research notes. My diary, if you prefer. There are sections on our friendship that I think you will find useful.' 'Lastly, I would ask that you not go back to your old ways of feeding on the unwilling. I am dead, yes, but there are many others out there. Find a new partner and nurture a relationship.' 'Celestia's blessings,' 'Eternity' It was hard, going on. I was aging in mind, if not in body. A certain depression and cynicism grew in me as I watched the Wasteland return in full force. The stable ponies bred, their offspring learning the methods of torture and insanity once again. The settlements we had built slowly crumbled, some by violence and some by neglect. The hope of a new Equestria dried-up. The new, struggling population was not the only change. New horrors began to emerge, the product of one hundred years of irradiation and breeding. The products of the Ministries' Projects, mutants and metal monsters, established themselves. Unity reared it's head, the Steel Ranger's rebuilt as recruits became available. The hand guns of the past gave way to larger calibers and explosives. Gangs formed and claimed land, raiders became more vicious and brutal. DJ Pon3's broadcast area shrunk to nearly nothing, the other stations died out entirely. I watched Eternity's memory, finding that I could take sustenance from them. But eventually they were depleted, their recordings gray and empty. I learned much about him, but nothing surprising. An assassination gone wrong had killed a few hundred zebra, due to a mistake on his part. Another incident, twenty dead. Accidentally causing the death of a Stable when he broke out into a poison cloud. Certainly there had been death on his conscious, but at no point could I okay the bastard's leaving me... His diary was less interesting in terms of story. What it did contain, the reason he had given it too me no doubt, was extensive notes on the changeling feeding and storage process. It wasn't much, but it gave me idea's. He had proved, for example, that the slow adaptation process carried out by the lifecycle of queens could be accelerated. In fact, it could be carried out by a single individual if giving time. In the margins, was a single note, my name attached. “If you try, you can learn to love anyone.” By this time, the Day of destruction was ninety years past. It had been eigthy years since I'd last seen another of my kind. The loneliness of the lost lifeweb, so long smothered, was slowly eating at my youth. It was then that I found a queen egg. Hiding from a Bloodwing, I backed into a cave to catch a whiff of the unique smell. The egg was planted in a wall farther in, its purple casing adhering to the stone. With care, I pulled it down and began a new chapter of my life. Another thirty years of famine, searching for a place to raise the queen. My mind was filled by my Queen's order; I fed when and where I could, ignoring Eternity's wishes. I sourced the Wasteland twice, from the coast to the Mojave and back, but no where was suitable. The levels of danger were too great for a growing queen, even in the most love filled sites. Finally, out of other choices, I brought the egg to the zombie city of Paradise (far to the northwest of the more commonly known town). There I warmed the egg, broke the web, hatched it. I still do not know what went wrong. Perhaps thirty years dragged through radiation and enervation had permeated the stasis. Perhaps the zombies lacked the sustaining companionship to feed to newborn queen. Perhaps the previously untested cocoon was not sufficient to hold an egg dormant for that long. Regardless, the queen came forth mutated beyond recognition. Her legs were stunted and bent, her head held too many horns. Her wings were flimsy and bled liquid. I could not kill her, but I refused to raise such a monster. I left the infant near death and fled. To this day, I wish I had just killed it. I heard, years later, than the entire city had been wiped out by some black monster. I can only assume she grew into maturity, but without a mate couldn't do any more than kill. The area was avoided for years afterward, and too this day I'm not sure of the false queen's fate. My involvement in Wasteland life was minor after that. I moved from town to town. Years of hunger had reduced my need to eat. I learned how to spend little energy, how to save up enough to move to another city. I ate from the fringes, from acquaintances and the infrequent friend. I wasn't until Flank that I started to remember my life with Eternity. I came into the town as I did any other: tired of life but unwilling to let go. Flank was fairly standard for the Hoof, a rundown collection of buildings economically centered around a few stores. The drug business was booming, with 5 mobs competing to addict the most ponies for the longest time. It was dangerous to be too involved, but I ended up setting up in Stable 69 (89, technically). It wasn't great. There isn't a lot of love going around, but there was plenty of happiness. Of the drugged out of your mind variety. Another new flavor, the aura of excess tastes sickly sweet. I was becoming a master disguise by this point, and I found work as a specialty consort. The Boss thought I was just good with makeup; I was careful to never go change too much in his presence. In the bedroom, though, I kept my clients happy, becoming whatever they desired. I prefected my disguises; after years I was able to emulate ponies based only on description, including details like cutie marks and freckles. It wasn't a good life, but it wasn't bad. It sheltered me from the Wastes. The drug cloud of enforced happiness might have affected my mind as well. The years became a decade, then two. Finally, the old Boss died and his son took over. A greedy twist, he took over by strong-hoof tactics and kept in power through beatings. He was powerful though. He knocked over one competator (there were seven by this point), then another. I looked like he would have a monopoly on the market with five years, so nopony was willing to leave his employ. We weren't treated great, by enemy personnel had it worse by far. At length, I'd had enough. One night, the bastard came to my room, hoping to have some fun. Wanted to beat his father, I could pull that look off right? He didn't notice the needle until he'd dropped. I hid the body and took his place. I emulated the cruelty well, and of course my appearance we perfect. No one questioned what had happened to the specialty whore, on my order. I made sure I had trust, and then I started to make changes. I stopped the beatings and kicked out half the twisted guards. I hired professionals and cleaned the place up. Sure, there was competition, but it wasn't so bad that mercilessness was required. I worked hard to make Flank a bit better. Even ponies deserve more. Maybe it was having gotten out of the bedroom and into the workroom that had cleared my head. One way or another, I'd changed. I barely felt like a changeling anymore. Most of the time, I just though of myself as a pony with some effective illusion magic. I started eating as if it was what was really sustaining me. Even as a pony, I wanted to get out of Flank. The despare that colored every emotion, the pain and death so close and constant. It was worse for me, I could feel the emotions of every pony around me. I have to get out, find somewhere better. I'd done all I could. I stepped down quietly after a few years. I handed control over to one of the consorts, an incredibly smart mare named Caprice. She had a business head like nopony I'd seen before. Last I heard, she had bought out half the competition and was browbeating the other half. I wandered aimlessly at first, but eventually I moves with purpose out to the Mojave. The crossing was difficult, bouncing from town to hovel, but the solitude was like a fast. I cleaned my body of two hundred years of toxins and waste. I focused my mind and considered the future. It is time to rebuilt the changling race. Pony kind has returned, and if anger runs high, so too does passion. There is sustenance for us again in Equestria. But this time, we will not fall into the pettiness of our past. I have learned from our mistakes. It was a mistake to try to feed by breaking bonds. It was a mistake to focus our entire race in a single, egotistical being. It was a mistake hold ourselves apart from our food, as if we were superior. I was a mistake to think of ponies as only a food source and not also a source of friendship. I will find another egg and raise the next queen. I will raise her with love, but apart from a society in which she might gorge. I will teach her my skills: near perfect replication, creating one's own masks, judging the emotions of others through taste, building a network of friendship with other races, and feeding off other races. I will teach her how to hold up one side of the bond of love without turning the other end into a chain. All of this I will teach her and when she is ready we will remake the changelings. This time, however, we will live with the ponies and zebras, among them, as friends and companions and lovers. Secure in myself and my quest, I reached the far side of the Mojave. Following a river south through the mountains, I came to Phoenix Valley and began my search.
SS7: Introduction of MassacreGuns have been the life of my family since before I was born. Before the war even, if my father is to be believed. Back then, my great-great-(add some more)-great-grandfather was working in the Ministry of Wartime Technology. And my other great(s)-grandfather. And a few of my many times removed Grandmothers. Hell, I was probably related to a good third of that ancient Ministry. Earth pony ingenuity, back as far as you cared to trace. On my father's side anyway. He was a younger son of mmmmm, the head of mmmmm(Jakobs) industries. They'd taken every scrap of Wartime Technology documentation they could out of the Hoofington database many years ago and continued on. Their guns had the most 'Buck' of any on the market. They got the job done fast, and that prestige had kept mmmmm in the market for a good many years. Of course, firing one would announce your presence to everypony this side of the mmmmm(canyon, big) river. “No subtlety,” as my mother would say. My mother, on the other hand, was the heiress of mmmmm(Maliwan), a competing business run entirely by mares. Unlike mmmmm(Jakobs), they produced mostly specialty and niche weapons. They were the local inheritors of the Ministry of Arcane Science. Energy weapons, weapons that auto-enchanted ammo, nearly silent guns; these were their specialties. My parents occasionally had arguments over which style was better, more for their amusement than any other reason. My parents' marriage had been arranged. The two companies had no intention of combining, but neither did they want to compete outside the economic arena. The pact was formed for mutual benefit, and it was thus far successful in heading off any armed conflict. Let the others fight, we will prosper. Or something like that. They did love each other, in a way. But throughout my childhood the tension was always present. Luckily, I had plenty of siblings to keep me company. That was one thing that could be said of their marriage; it was damned prolific. I was raised by my brothers and sisters. We learned gun safety with dart shooters by the time we were potty trained. Procedure was, if you got shot with a dart you had to act like it was real. Scared the crap out of the little ones; they learned not to aim a bodies you didn't want dead. And gave all of us older kids a great time 'killing' each other. When we got to old to notice the little darts every time, a few of us got together to make an electrified dart. Hurt like a bee sting and you couldn't miss it if you were truly hit. Last I heard, Mom was selling a variant as training ammunition. We were given our first Real gun at age 8. The earth ponies were also given battlesaddles for their peashooters, the unicorns were expected to have mastered telekinetics well enough to carry their own. The family ranch (minus actual animals, of course) had a large firing range, with stationary and moving targets. There was a family competition once a month, rotating by weapon and ammunition type; I tended to score average. First prize got a cake and a choice of that weapon type from the armory. I remember when Deadeye got his own room, just so that he could fit all his guns on the walls. Bazooka too, although in his case it was the number of rocket launchers. By 14, I could take apart any weapon in the family arsenal blindfolded. And reassemble it the same way. I knew how to clean and maintain both guns and their ammunition. How to assemble my own weapon from an assortment of parts. How to pour bullets and mix different varieties of gunpowder. Re-power energy packs, or rig them to explode. This was all standard for my family though. I was actually looked down upon occasionally, for not being able to name a weapon on sight or knowing how to build a remote mine (it was the remote part). There were plenty of extra classes I didn't take, and even a few I had to take twice. It wasn't until I found an implant catalog that I really came into my own. I had to save my allowance for months, but eventually I got down to mmmmm labs. I told them what I wanted and then helped with the specifics. I had a general chemistry and circuitry knowledge, and I was clear with them when something wasn't right. A full year after first hatching my plan, I received the MAD-1 (Magic, Adrenaline, mmmmm) prototype implant. The only one ever made; that had been part of the contract. I took all the research notes afterward. I returned to the ranch with my head held high that day. I took another two hours, with help from the butlers, to lay everything out. Then, one-by-one, I convinced the whole family to show up. I'd picked my name, I said. “Before earning your cutie mark?” my father asked worriedly. “Yes.” I assured him. “You'll see.” I donned my special, 5 mount battlesaddle. Too much, you say? Well... yes. I'd had to wear practice weights for months before I could wear it loaded. My earth pony brother who'd helped me make it laughed when I first laid out the design. “Thats too much for a unicorn. You won't be able to walk!” “I won't have to.” (Yes, simplicity in speech is family virtue) Finally, dressed for battle, I walked out to meet my family. All twelve were there, along with what butlers could spare the time. They eyed me as I slowly walked to the stage, painfully climbing the steps. “Is she trying to become a tank?” my mother stage whispered. I grinned grimly. Funny, yes. Painfully close to the truth... that too. Well, I'd pulled this off before during testing. It was time for a show. “Hey there everyone. I know you are all terribly busy, but only wanted to do this once. No need to waste ammunition.” My father smiled as I used his favorite phrase. “As you know, I've spent the last year working with the ponies from mmmmm on a new implant. It's complicated and a bit dangerous to get installed. I've come to the conclusion that it can not be made market efficient.” My mother's face darkened slightly at that. I hadn't FULLY explained where that money was going, and she was a sticker for usefulness (of the sell-able variety). “However, I did have one successful test subject. Myself.” Whispering at that. No one in the family had implants. Most thought it was bad sport, just like using S.A.T.S. “I promise, I didn't make and install it to beat you in the shootout. I'd need more then this to catch Deadeye anyway.” Laughter. “Okay, here goes.” I turned around to look at the firing range. Nearly every target was standing, from those very close, all the way back to the sniper's targets at 3000 feet. With a press of a button, half began moving back and forth on their tracks. I had 5 rifles attached to my harness, of various type. Spread out before me was a selection of weapons from the armory. Nothing explosive, but I one of everything that wasn't. The fact that no two weapons were the same was part of the show. Just as uneven battlesaddles were hard to fire full auto, it was difficult for a unicorn to fire multiple varieties of weapons simultaneously. Assuming you could aim multiple; plenty of ponies had trouble with that part. “Come on sis, let's see some action!” Yep, time to stop thinking and start doing. I stepped onto a raised platform so that my under-chest rifle had a clear line. Then, struggling, I began to raise weapons. It wasn't about finesse, it was all about bulk mass. Twenty more guns raised around me, pointing mostly forward. Pistols, SMGs, Rifles, larger machine guns, shotguns, energy weapons. It wasn't easy to split my magic into that many lifts, even if they weren't THAT heavy. “There is NO way.” “She wouldn't try it!” “I don't care how good that implant makes her aim, that ain't gonna happen.” “Just using that battlesaddle will throw her off.” The doubt... I started up my implant. It was a slow process, but then it was a big implant. The piece overlay my spine from top to bottom, connecting to organs along the way. Hormones started flowing as I initialized the system. As it started, I smiled, then began laughing outright. This was going to brilliant! I kicked my hind legs, activating spikes on my battle harness. They smacked into the ground, holding my back legs in place. Braces tightened down around my body. Goggles came down over my eyes, specially made to darken under heavy light. The four guns mounted, two to either side, loosened in their mounting, only the bases staying attached. I floated the front ends; they could aim anywhere within 45 degrees of my facing. I laughed harder and louder. “YOU WANT A SHOW!” With shakes from adrenaline pumping through my body, I felt the magical increase begin to move up my spine and onto my horn. Three... Two... One... I hit SATS at the last moment, just as it reached the tip. In S.A.T.S., I gave instructions to each of the twenty-five guns, one at a time. Firing instructions, reload times. It took far beyond the time of a normal S.A.T.S. activation, from my point of veiw. Of course, it wasn't a normal S.A.T.S. activation. I double checked, making sure I had every target tagged. Then I released the spell and the world roared. Those guns I could barely float? As one, they snapped to a ready position. Slides were pulled, hammers cocked, and rounds chambered. Then they started firing, switching from target to target, pausing as needed to reload. The guns at my sides did the same, unloading expanded clips of 60 rounds each rounds each. The kick forced my light frame back, the braces only able to take so much. But I held, pushing against the spikes. The muzzle flares turned into a wall of fire. The friction of so many bullets in such a small area superheated the air. Heat lightning began to ripple in front of me, the heat wave passing backward toward me to warm my exposed face. It was glorious, it was deadly. Exactly 16 seconds later, every gun went silent. They dropped from the air, falling to the ground. Mom and Dad weren't going to be happy about that. But as I looked at the field ahead, I didn't care. It wasn't perfect. I hadn't hit everything, especially the farther targets. Likely some of that was do to the techno-spell's time limit; I'd have to take firing time and spell time into account in the future. But hundreds of targets registered hits. I'd wiped out a field in (a bit more than) ten seconds flat. Carefully, I kicked the pegs out of the ground. The braces loosened a bit; it felt like the right side might have bent a bit. The mounted rifles returned to their stock position. Goggles came up, head phones off. I shook my head a bit, then turned to face the family. You know, sometimes you don't realize what you're scared of until you've beaten it. I'd spent my life so far being scared of failing my family. I wasn't the best gunsmith, or sharpshooter, or all that great with explosives. I was bad with mortars and gun recognition. Even when I'd finished creating the implant, it wasn't something I was sure they would be proud of. But when turned, I saw the happiest family in the world. They were taking off headphones, smiling to each other, chatting excitedly. And when I turned, they gave me a standing ovation. My father came forward first, meeting me as I struggled off the platform. “You were right to only do that once. I'd hate to waste the ammo.” I grinned sheepishly. Next same my mother. “Honey, that was brilliant. You've made the whole family proud. Now are you sure this wouldn't be profitable?” I shook my head bemusedly. “We'll have to talk about it later.” She patted my shoulder and moved out of the way. Then came the gang. In a cooperative dogpile. I should have expected it, really. What better way to congratulate me and simultaneously show off how immobile I was? It was a good thing the barding was so reinforced; ten siblings can be a lot of weight. “Well?” my father asked once they'd all gotten off. I looked at him inquisitively. “You were going to tell us your new name.” my mother explained. Ah yes. I grinned even more widely. “My name is Massacre.” It wasn't until much later, tired of congratulations, they I shed my armor and noticed the new Cutie Mark beneath. A ring of eight different guns, all pointing outward. That seemed about right. For a while, mom totted me around for weapon testing and showcasing. I could fire literally anything on the mmmmm lineup. Once, for example, I was asked to fire the cannon of a tank by a misunderstanding tech. I think he expected me to get inside or something... I just picked it up and fired it from ten feet off the ground. The accuracy and damage was awesome! but I didn't feel like asking mom for one after I'd broken the suspension like that. Seriously... ten foot drop. How was I supposed to know a tank couldn't take that? It was a tank! I also did weapon showcases. For the most part I'd just magically lift and fire the weapons normally. Only at the end was I allowed to go full tilt, as a way to scare the crap out of the high bid crowd. Mom received many requests for copies of my implant, but she turned them all down by my request. I think doing so caused her physical pain, but I wasn't backing down. When you find something that makes you unique, you don't go and teach everyone else how to do it. But eventually the shows and guns became work. It was too repetitive a life for me. I considered going home, but my brothers and sisters were leaving, finding jobs that fit their skills and personalities. So I began to look for other options. After asking around a mmmmm, I finally hit on something. The mmmmm tech division had a small, military arm known as the Tech Hunters. They worked as both intelligence and procurement from the company. Their job was, more specifically, to obtain the plans of competing company's new products, and to locate old weapons for research. I signed on, the family name doing much to speed me through the process. The only class I couldn't pass immediately was 'old tech recognition', but after four months at the company college I was off. I hate an monthly budget, to spend as I pleased, and so of the more high-tech equipment mmmmm could provide. Happy with my new job's freedom, I wandered out into the waste.
Shorts introductionInitiating Boot Sequence... Booting... Boot... Complete. Accessing Level 2 Memory... Retrieving system data... Scaning for viable nodes... Nodes found: 20 Listing nodes... Node list requires clearance: ******************** Grade 1 Clearance accepted. Listing Nodes Available to Grade 1... Introduction Foundation Access Node: Introduction Accessing Introduction... Corruption detected... Corruption Analysis Complete. Limiting access to 'safe' files. Running Preset Start Path ToC... intro.pmo opened! Hello there! Please, don't be alarmed. if you are, at least, which you may not be. If you are alarmed, try not to be; otherwise, continue being unalarmed and most likely bored by this point. What you have accessed is the combined memory banks of a rather famous group of ponies. Each one of them brought something new to the wastes, and shaped the waste as best they could until they were ended. One built a computer system by which the knowledge of the past might still be kept. Another fashioned weapons of precision and power as had not been attempted since the Great War. Still another built a government from the ideals of republic. Their projects have influence ponies across generations, though not all are remembered for their goodness. Still, As diverse as this group was, all of its members held one thing in common. They all kept rather good care of their memories, such good care that even now, years after their passing, we have a detailed account of their every action. year upon year of memories, sorted and kept safe now inside this machine, ready to be accessed by those of real worth. Only those of true worth to the world will be given access to these memories. They hold power and wisdom not meant for everypony. Rather, the curious and dedicated can gain access to these archives through their own work. By viewing this page, you have been given the right to experience some of the magic that these memories hold. Should you continue in your curiosity, more memories may be provided, subject to a reevaluation of your Grade. Now, let me end these tiresome legalities so that we make speech about the real reason you are here. There are currently 48 memory banks stored on this station. Each details the life of one individual who's projects have left an indelible mark on the rest of ponykind. Your grade of 2 gives you access to the personal files of Arch/Nexus, a zebra born a mere 12 years previous to the Great War. His diverse experiences previous to and during the Great War provide a fantastic view into life as it was. Early records are a bit scarce, but as we approach the Great War the memories become more consistent and allow one to experience entire months. Eventss are arranged in chronological viewing order where ever possible. Sections of interest to you will be highlighted specifically. Please, enjoy your use of the Eternity Memory Bank System. Thanks to Kkat for opening up his universe to fanfics, to Somber for inspiring me to write, and to mimezinga for giving me a standard to strive for.
SS2: Error's EscapeShort Story 1: Chapter 1: Normal Day "It's Present Week!" I jumped out of bed, hitting my head on the ceiling of my spartan bunk. Rubbing the soon to be bump, I turned to see the eye of a large pastel orange pony peering excitedly into my refuge. "Comeon, comeon, comeon! Get up and be excited with me! Oops." the orange face slide down across the aperture of my bed, the pony herself apparently having overbalanced in an attempt to see me. I slid out enough to watch her flow across the indented surface down to the floor nearly 5 feet below. Apparently she was able to poke every pony as she made her way down, as a chorus of groans followed in her wake. Mandarin had mastered the art of the alarm clock, that much was certain. "Good Morning! Good morning. good Morning. Hi there Sandy! Good Morning!" "Darn it Mand'rin!" "Can't I sleep in today?" "We have a full hour 'til Class!" I'd learned long ago that once Mandarin was up, we should all be up. If she woke me up early, it was worth it. Knowing today would be a special day, I moved out of my bed and slowly, carefully made my way to the steep staircase which was the correct way to exit our condensed sleeping section. As I moved into the Class E communal showers and began my shower (shockingly cold as always). I thought back. It was Present Week. Present Week was a yearly occurrence in Stable 70. Built off TunnelWay access 30A-70F-C370, Stable 70 was one of the many Stables built by Stable-Tec during the later years of the war. The Zebra Legions had been developing ever more powerful weapons, and it was decided that a fall back should be made to keep alive the Equestrian culture should the worst come to past. over 100 were made, not nearly enough to house the entire populace. I had been just lucky enough to get myself a spot, although I can't remember how I procured a place. I couldn't remember all that much really, but that's why I was in E class. Pony were classified by their knowledge when they first entered the Stable. A through J depending on how well they could function. The Overmare had been given a number of ponies she could allow to live in the Stable and given clearance to drop the lower groups if their was not enough resources to keep them. She hadn't expected to have to use this power, but it quickly became apparent that the automated Stable door accepted passes for any Stable at all. In the end, over 4 times the sustainable population had arrived. Thus the J group had to be dropped. then the I. and so on. E was the lowest group still remaining, but the last removal had been 3 years ago. There was enough food for everyone now, so they were trying to reclaim us. Still a bit less space then we might want, but everyone had to make sacrifices. I knew this because they taught us in school. Basically, E group was the group who operated at 60% (of what, I don't know). Most of us hadn't held jobs supporting the Stable yet; those that had for a long time had been moved to D. The rest of us had the same schedule every day. All of us, regardless of age, went to school for the first half of the day. Then we apprenticed for the second half of the day. More on that later "And don't forget everyone, this week is Present Week. As I understand it, many of you have not received a present in the last 4 years. That makes this your year! I heard from the Overmare herself that the last of the presents are all ready, so keep an ear out for your call this week!" Joyous Link, out teacher, awoke me from my stupor. I couldn't remember moving from the shower, but no one was looking at me funny, so I guess I'd done ok over the last... 4 hours. That was all of breakfast and class. I did hate it when that happened... and Mandarin had even woken me up early. I'd hoped I'd remember all of today. As we filed out of the classroom, a deep navy unicorn with a blue mane came right up to me. She poked me in the cutie mark and smiled before speaking. "You remember me today Error?" "Um, Sky... something?" I smiled back hopefully. "Nope. Good guess though. I'm Turquoise. Before you ask, it's my name too." I had been about to ask. "So, is this your present year?" "Yep, and I think I'm really excited. I don't know what it will be, but I'm sure everyone will enjoy seeing all the new things." "Are you sure it's your present year?" We were in line for lunch now. "Yep. Mandarin woke me up extra early to tell me!" I thought about it a second. "It will be today too, since she wouldn't have reminded me otherwise." "Error, you know that Mandarin can't know that, don't you?" "Of course she can! She's Mandarin. Hey, I'm hungry too. Oh. Plate." I started eating. After lunch, I went to see Cog. That wasn't his real name, but I never could get it right. I was his apprentice, and had been for as far back as I could remember (not very long). I had been shuffled around a lot previous to that, since I was Very forgetful and all. The only thing I had ever really liked was the constructor's sector, but after I ignored a few safety signs to finish faster they had told me to leave. I'm pretty sure I wasn't in danger, but I'm probably wrong. Anyway, this was a predictable day with Cog. He hooked me up to his magic machine, and asked me questions. Usually his questions were about remembering things, like what I learned in class, or what he showed me in a book a few minutes earlier. Sometimes he would ask me different things though, like what the Tunnels were like or if I believed in pegasi. Silly questions most of the time. This time was one of those weird question times. "Have you ever thought of something and then had it come true, Error Message?" "What, like wishing that they'd serve cookies for dinner, and then eating cookies for dinner?" "Yes, but something less common. They serve cookies every dinner you know." "Cookies for dinner!" "Quiet. I can see you're already offtrack. Let's try this a different way. I heard that this is your present year. Do you remember what your present will be?" "Of course not! (PRESENTS)" "Since you don;t know, what do you predict your present will be?" "I think it's gonna be a sparkly toy which everyone will like. They will all want to share with me, and I'll get to use their toys for a little while but I'll get to keep my sparkly and sleep with it forever." "So your present will sparkle and make you happy. Is that fair to say?" "Of course! Everyone is happy when they get their present!" Cog started to do his mumbly thing again, so I went over to the toy stack and started playing. Usually it took quite a bit longer before he'd let me go play, but whenever he started mumbling he would ignore me for the rest of the day. That meant toy time! Chapter 2: Called to the Office "Error Message, you are needed in the Overmare's office. Please drop what you are doing and come immediately." The voice over the intercom sounded very serious, but then again it always sounded serious. Everything to do with the Overmare was serious, but I knew better than to be scared by the voice. They were calling me to get my present, and no amount of formality was going to get in the way of my enjoying it. Cog jumped a bit when he heard my name on the intercom. He had stopped mumbling, and was taking notes on his terminal. I'd asked him what he was doing, but most of his words had gone over my head. Something about being a psychicologist and helping everyone stay sane. He didn't let me help very much for being his apprentice. "Well, it looks like today is your present day! Come, let us discover whether your present is as shiny as you hoped." With that he climbed from his chair and began leading me to the Overmare's Office (at least, I thought so, but I'd never been so bad as to have o go there before). We pasted the E section door and entered the CDE general corridor which lead to the Great Auditorium. It was really, REALLY big. I'd been there a few times during the Drilling Festival and the Celestial Celebration (All Praise to the light goddess), but E's weren't supposed to go there without a teacher or a Level C (or higher) leading them. I looked around, but so much was unfamiliar and interesting that I couldn't really get a sense of the place before Cog pushed me through side door and into a pretty hallway with granite siding and really small carvings everywhere. Again Cog wouldn't let me stop to look, so i just had glimpses of ponies with drills and hard hats, then swords, then guns, then lasers. The end had a BIG picture of an explosion in the biggest cavern ever (I could tell it was big cause the ponies were so small). At the end of the hall were big doors of clay and metal. They opened to let Cog and me into the Overmare's Office. The room had lots of other double doors and lots of really nice marble tables and chairs, all matching. It must have taken quite some digging to get all of the raw materials, especially with how rare marble was. There was an elderly mare sitting at a desk, with a disapproving look on her face. "I assume you have an appointment." "This is Error Message. I brought him as quickly as I could." The mare looked at me with disapproval on her face. "I didn't realize he would require an escort or I would have sent one. You may leave now, we will provide him with a guide back." She turned from Cog, assuming he would comply. "As for you, please go through those doors. and don't touch Anything but the doors, we clear?" "Yes, miss mare" I started skipping toward the door when I was surprised by the near growl coming from the desk. "You will call me by my Title and level, E. Do it now." Her face was very red. It was only then that I noticed the Orange A floating right between her eyes. How could I have missed that she was a Level A. They were alway sticklers about rank and titles and such. "Um, yes Mrs. Orange Secretary of the Overmare!" She was still very angry looking so I ran through the door and into the next room. It was a library. not like the library in our classroom though, which was very colorful and had one book shelf. This library was big, bigger than big, and all of the books were yucky colors. They were thick too. I walked over to a shelf and was about to pull one down when I heard the door handle creak. Thinking the Mean Secretary was coming to scold me for touching something, I jumped under one of the big chairs dotting the room and hid. "Yes, Overmare, I feel he can handle presents this year. He has improved drastically over the last 4 years." Two ponies came through the door, which I could see through the legs of the chair. The big stone thing had very thick legs though, so they soon passed out of my vision. Still, I was able to recognize Cog talking to none other than the Overmare herself! The Overmare was wearing a purple dress, mostly transparent, which hardened miner's plate underneath. She also wore a hardhat modified to look like formal wear. Considering how heavily it was based off of protective mining gear, it looked surprising good. Not that I am such a good measure of that. It didn't look like something Twice Scarlet would wear, but it did look nice. "But he still isn't E class level, is he. What did the last hand test place him at, G?" "Yes, but we should talk about this later..." "No, it needs to be discussed now. Cognizance, we still don't know why the initial scan placed him in A class, when he is so obviously unable to function. The initial scan has always agreed with the hand test, in every case except for his. I would not be surprised by a few mistakes, but for its one mistake to be so severe. I mean, the poor colt should have been dropped off with the Fs, but the recycling system wouldn't accept him! It still thinks he is M class, despite all attempts to override. We can't even change his name! All we get is the same error message that was displayed when he first passed testing!" The voices finally stopped moving around the room to settle directly above me. Overmare was sitting in the very chair I was hiding under! "When I asked you to solve the problem three years ago, you said it would be a snap. What went wrong, why aren't you done?" "I don't think this is the best time..." "NOW" "ok, ok. Error Message is not his name for no reason. The stallion breaks medical equipment simply by being near it, and the attempts at physical procedures have yielded little results." "Stallion?" "Well, yes. Despite his size and maturity, Error Message is somewhere in his 30s. He seems to have suffered from growth problems from a young age, although we cannot find any examples of viral or bacterial agents. Although again, most of our methods of checking for that sort of thing don't work near him. I've asked Doctors Bloodbank and Kindhoof for advice, but they have been as perplexed as I. He doesn't respond to drugs as expected, but he seems to ignore all of he common ones placed in the level E food, so we haven't had to do anything there." "What about his memory?" "Without the drugs, we've fallen back to Psychotherapy, which is almost entirely ineffective when the patient forgets sessions entirely twice a week. Frustratingly slow seems to best describe our progress. But we have made some progress. I can recognize when he has forgotten things now. And he seems to be happy now, as happy as he has been since you moved him from construction." "You know why I had to." "I understand your reasons and agree. It still would have been better for Him if he had stayed." "I guess what I really need to know is this; can we trust him with his 'present.'" "Everypony responds differently to their present. We never gave one to an F or lower, so I don't have much to work off of, but as far as I can tell he will do just fine with it. He's been looking forward to it for a long time. Haven't you, Error?" "What are you..." I knew my cue. As weird as Cog was, he was nice. So when he used the all clear words, I knew I'd be safe to come out. "Hi there Miss Overmare! Are you going to give me a present. I can't wait for my shiny present! I really have been looking forward to it for a long time and i just know it will be amazing and ..." I stopped for a breath and noticed that the Overmare wasn't even looking at me. She was scowling at Cog, who seemed quite pleased. "Of course she will Error, now that I've backed her into a corner." "Cognizance, don't you try to decide this for me! You knew he was there?" Cog pointed to my forehead. "How many chairs could you own with a Purple M underglow?" Then with a smile had led me to another Big door, labeled 'Present storage.' Chapter 3: Present Party "Ok, Error" The Overmare pulled out some keys from her pocket and after a second placed the correct one into the lock. It was a Really big key, but then she had a really big mouth, so it would be hard to use otherwise. After unlocking the door, she turned to stop me from going through. "Your present is through this door. But I need you to be patient. We need to test you a bit as we give you them, so just be still and do as your told. If you don't, you don't get a present. Are we clear?" I nodded vigorously. "Ok, lets get this over with." The Overmare led the way into a medium sized room, about half the size of the library. There was a big table in the middle, as well as Cog's chair and a weird looking pedestal that the Overmare laid on top of. It looked really comfortable... But not as awesome as the presents on the table! I started bouncing on all four hooves right where I stood. There were a bunch of them, more presents on that table than half of the Es combined possessions. There were cases and satchels and boxes. Almost all were closed, but they were sure to hold amazing things! "Ok Error, your first present is this case. We want you to open it." The case was shiny black, with a strip of silver running around it and two hooks for attachment to a saddle. At first it looked like I could just pull on the silver part and it would fold open, but when that didn't work I looked up to the Overmare. "Can't you just open it?" "No, Error. You have to open your own presents." Cog was right of course. Now to think, think, think. After a second, I got it. I pulled on both of the hooks until they touched and BAM, the case snapped open. The hooks shocked me so that I dropped the case, and the contents came spilling out. "You couldn't figure that one out, huh?" "Sush, Cognizance" Chapter 4: Awakening I must have memory gapped again. Felt like it had been a long one too, since I felt tired. My eyes were shut, but I couldn't open them. Not good. Suddenly my eyes did open, though not because of me. It was like someone else was controlling my body! I was staring a blank wall though, so I still wasn't sure where I was. “Is it working?” It felt myself say in a deep voice. I didn't even know I could speak that low. “Yes. It is worked.” The other pony sounded funny, like his tongue wasn't working right. “You can turn now.” My body spun on it's chair and I realized I must have been out for a LONG time. I was sitting in a chair next to the biggest wall I'd ever seen. It just kept going, up and up, but when it got to where the ceiling should be, it just disappeared. Instead of the tunnel roof, there was just a giant blackness, far enough away that the spotlights nearby didn't light it at all. Around me was a camp, spread out in this massive room. There were tents and a small wall on the outside, fitting up against the big wall behind me. All around the camp were zebras, working and talking. I would have fainted right then if my body would let me. Zebras! I was surprised they hadn't killed me already. If there was one thing I learned about Zebra's from class, it was that they killed everypony who wasn't like them, especially little ponies like me. Right in front of me was a skinny grey zebra staring at glowing which, as far as I could tell, were being projected from a rock. He was still speaking with that accent. “Well, the scanner say it working. Pony tech is … strange, so I not … sure. Gah, pony language is strange too! How do speak it Nexus?” “Experience. Experience that you will have to catch up on if you wish to make the assault team. You have only this month to learn, or cope as you might see it. I must leave now though, no reason to wear this stupid thing longer than the training requires.” My name was Nexus now? Why did the evil zebra not kill me? My every instinct and teaching said to hide in a corner, but my body just strode right through the camp. I didn't talk to any of the other zebras, probably because they looked so scary. Eventually I walked to the biggest tent and went inside. The tent was much like the auditorium from the stable. The center was an oval platform filled with sand, and around it were stands so that everypony (or every zebra I guess) could see the center. But instead of a lecturer or band, the platform was empty but for a single zebra and a TON of weapons. They were organized in racks on either side, all types of blades and hammers and things I didn't recognize. I walked right up to the zebra in the center, who was stretching her legs and back. As I walked up she stopped and looked quisically at my forehead. “That is the memory talisman?” “Yes. We think it is worked, but we won't know until after this first test. Considering how costly they are, our first test is supposed to be usable as a sparring lesson as well. Thats why I asked you here.” “Are you certain it isn't because you wanted to see me alone?” The world spun suddenly. I was not prepared for my eyes to roll like that! “You are the best melee fighter in the camp and you know it. That is the only reason. Now then, have you stretched enough?” “You are such a bored soldier sometimes Nexus. To much honor, not enough personality.” “And you are just trying to gode me now, Klymax. Are you ready?” “More ready than you. Is the talisman active?” “It shouldn't be. If you are ready I'll activate it now.” I … um, lets just say Nexus for my body, until I figure this out … put his forehoof to his forehead and suddenly things shifted. Time sped up, so slowed, but for a few moments everything blurred. Then things cleared, and Nexus was in the middle of a fight. Nexus had two blades attached to his forehooves, which would have stuck out to the sides were he was standing normally. Ahead stood Klymax, a big blade held in her mouth. She charged and turned her head to bring the edge down between Nexus' ears, but he had fallen back and crossed his hooves, using the two knives on his legs to catch the sword. For a second he was on two legs, but Klymax slid in and kicked one of them out from under him. Nexus fell forward, his knives sliding along the sword toward Klymax, who was forced to turn her head back across her body. Nexus' knives slide just passed her, but in the process she had left her sword point first in the sand. Thuroughly unarmed, Klymax rolled away from Nexus, who took a second to uncross his hooves and rise. As he turned toward, Klymax reversed her roll and in a cyclic flurry, pushed off the ground with one hoof and spun toward Nexus. Unable to get his blades above his head in such a short time, he ducked and crawled forward underneath the tornado of blows. I felt pain as he was struck multiple times, but where I would have cried out, he simply stood and turned, readying to buck the now fleeing Klymax. Only she wasn't fleeing. As soon as she neared the ground, the agile mare planted a hoof and spun, somehow keeping her momentum as she reverse direction. Nexus was ready this time though, and what followed was a series of action and reaction faster than I could follow. Hammer blows pounded along my legs and neck, although most of them seemed to be from blocks. What a full hit would feel like I cringed to imagine. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bout ended with both combatants taking a few measured steps backward. I could see that Klymax was bleeding for her lip and crest. From the pounding on my (Nexus') face, I probably was too. “Well? Good enough for a practice run?” Nexus seemed about to respond, but before he did his pushed a hoof to his forehead again. Again the world swirled, time stretched and compressed. This time though, when I returned, it seemed no time had passed at all. “I hope so. I wouldn't wish 10 minutes of that on any trainee. I hope this will prove the usefulness of the memory storage as a training method. I have some ideas for correct operation's policy now.” “What could anyone want with memories of you getting trampled for 10 minutes anyway?” “Good Question. I don't see anyone learning from random sparring. Maybe if we listed off the techniques previous to using them... I'll need to talk to Sparks before he demos this to the superior. I promised I'd make this work for him, and he has done me more favor than I care to count.” “Well, I know one thing he shouldn't do. Force the superior to watch that disgrace you call technique from the Losing point of view.” With that, Klymax cantered out the entrance, nickering as she went. Nexus seemed to ignore her exit, instead going through a few moves before pressing a hoof to his forehead again. I expected the shift this time, but this time it lasted longer than before. Things slowed so much I thought I would fall asleep... Chapter 5: Unexpected Consequences When I awoke, I was relieved to see I was back in the small present room. Mayor Mare was gone, but Cog was still here. He had a hoof on my neck when I opened my eyes, but he quickly back up. Funny, he had looked really unhappy there, but now he was back to normal Cog...ni...sense (I try sometimes). “Error, are you ok?” “Hnuglrsh” I mumbled confidently. After some coughing and a sneeze I tried again. “Hungry.” What? I was hungry. “Well, that's good, I think. Mayor Mare sent for a doctor to see what your present did to you.” I looked around quickly. I never did see what the present looked like. But the table was empty, and the case wasn't on the floor anymore. They weren't going to give me my presents after all. It was too much. The zebras, the memory jumps, the pain, all of those I could deal with. They had been scary, but they had already happened. Not getting my present though... that was just one step to far. “Oh. Oh shit. Error? Its ok Error, it will be ok. Everything will be fine.” “No present!” “It was a bad present Error. You don't want a bad present, do you?” “I just want my shiny present!” “We'll get you a shiny present, ok. It will be very shiny and you will be able to share it with your friends and everything. But I need you to stop crying Error. It's, uh... it's making your letter turn different colors.” I didn't know what he was talking about, and I didn't want to. Instead I just buried my head under my hooves and cried. As I shifted, one of my hooves hit my forehead, just above my eyes, and the world slid away as the time shift took hold. Chapter 6: Life's Tutorial Again I ended the memory shift in a different place than I entered. I still wasn't sure wether I was going forward or backward in time with these jumps, but I seemed to be able to get back to the present afterward, so I didn't worry too much. This time, I was in a small room with wavy brown walls. They looked kind of like an Tiger's Eye, but nowhere near as shiny. Beside the walls, there was a door of the same material and a Big mirror on the opposite wall. The mirror showed the room, and Nexus. I knew it was Nexus now because he didn't look anything like me. He was a zebra, for one, mostly a pale yellow with grey stripes. I think he was small, but it was hard to tell with as little references as the room had. He was wearing nothing but a braclet and a strange black stone suspending just between and above his eyes by woven straps. As I watched he lowered his hoof from the stone and placed it on the ground. Then he began to speak in a language I couldn't understand. (translated)”Welcome to the Nexus training program. If you would prefer to hear this tutorial in pony, speak now.” “Huh?” I couldn't understand a word of it. As soon as I'd spoken, however, he started talking normally. “Welcome to the Sparky-Nexus training Program. If you would like to swich back to Latin, speak now.” I stayed very very quiet. After a second, Nexus continued. “This is your first time using the program, so I will give you a quick tutorial.” He pointed to the mirror. It lit up from behind, and suddenly runes appeared floating in front and around it. More and more appeared, spiralling out of the mirror to move about the room until every wall was covered by them. They glowed in different colors and sizes, but one by one they resolved into words, some of which I could read. Thank goodness for all the time I'd put into reading in class, otherwise I'd have been totally lost. “This program is the result of nearly 40 zebra-years of work and contains everything necessary to train you in the various skills of warfare against the ponies. Very few apparatus have been made, due to the rarity of gems required, so use your time wisely. Most of your activities in this module have been time compressed to allow for longer periods of use. Still, you must be careful not to stay inside longer than required, since time will pass while you train. Always keep an eye on the wall clock, which will tell you how long you have been inside,” Nexus gestured to a glowing clock floating to the left. “For more information on safe use, see the Safe Use Library.” another symbol to the left, this one a thick circle. “The memory libraries are sorted by subject, and then by sub-categories. As an example, the culture category' “And he touched a word near the mirror. The symbols began shifting, only those on the left staying the same. Soon new words littered the room. “is further broken down into such sub-categories as language and celebrations.” Nexus pressed the back key and everything returned to the last set. “As you have probably noticed, you are not in your normal body. This body is Nexus, your avatar while you run this program. Since it is based of off memory storage, the program can only access avatars created previous to its finalization. All of your avatar's movements are prerecorded, so you will be limited in the number of actions you can preform while in this program.” With that, the tutorial ended. I waited a second to see if Nexus said anything more, but after he did not, I tried to move. Sure enough, Nexus moved the way I wanted to. I tried walking, and found that I had no problem walking around the room. I wasn't sure what the limitations were supposed to be, but I seemed fine. So, now what. The door might let me go out, or it might not. I didn't want to hit my forehead on the off chance I was forced to leave. This place was cool! Yes, I was in a scary zebra body, and yes most of the lessons were on evil zebra things. But I bet the culture part had all sorts of cool things! I could check up on my spelling anyway. I took a look at the clock. I must have been reading it wrong, because it said it was 12 seconds after noon. Maybe the library would have something on clocks! I started pressing buttons to find out. Best present ever! Chapter 7: Chapter 8: Claustrophobia Chapter 9: Field Failure Chapter 10: Entering the Tunnelway This fanfiction is based on Fallout Equestria by Kkat; a familiarity with the source material may aid your understanding. You can read Fallout Equestria by Kkat on Equestria Daily The Fallout: Equestria logo used above was designed by DotRook, who, according to the original deviantArt page, allows usage in supplementary materials created for and associated with the series. Images really do make a difference, so he has our eternal gratitude and respect. If you enjoy Fallout Equestria Side Stories, you will want to check the Fallout Equestria Side Stories post on Equestria Daily and the Fallout Equestria Side Stories thread on Ponychan The Ponychan group is also a hatching ground that you can join if you want to share your experience, writing or comments with us.
