Chapter 2: The Highest Priority
“Two hundred losses!? Those ‘losses’ are ponies, you sick sonuva bitch!”

“How long until the radiation gets lethal?”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Week and a half before we’ll start needing regular Radaways, couple weeks before it hits immediately-lethal levels. That’s total guesswork, by the way. Emphasis on the ‘guess’.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“It’s better than nothing. What’s our medical supply look like?

Tap. Beeeep!

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“For an extended stay, it’s stringent at best. We were planning on just a day-long visit…”

“Just list it out for me, okay?”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Um…Three healing potions, three rolls of magical bandages, four rolls of regular bandages, ten doses of Rad-X, one dose of Radaway, some Dash, some Buck, and one dose of Hydra. That in addition to whatever my horn can do.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“I have my alchemy kit, too. I might be able to cook something up.”

“Not without ingredients, sweetie. And we already used those up on these health potions.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“What can your horn do?

“Well…not a lot. Basic unicorn stuff, a handful of medical spells, and one or two more defensive spells. That’s all we have, unless Longview knows any medical magic?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Alright. That said, I’m making medicine our top priority. And since this isn’t a Solaris Stable, I’m guessing it’s around here somewhere.”

“Translat’n?”

“We’re making another foray. Soon as we’re healed up and full.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Speakin’ o’ full, what’s teh food an’ water situation look like?”

“Not great, but not immediate. If we ration ourselves to one a day, we can last for three. Won’t be fun, but it’s something. Water’s the more pressing concern. Counting Sunrise Sasparillas, one a day will leave us with just over two days’ worth.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“So that’s our next priority then. Securing not only quantities of food and water, but sources of both as well. After all, we don’t know how long we’ll be down here.”

“Two weeks at most, right?”

“Gee, Ace, what stunning optimism you have. Really, it’s almost blinding.”

“Longview, that’s not helping.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Our third and final priority is an escape route of some kind. Either some backdoor or a way to open this one. Call any clue or any route as you see it, but wait for the rest of us before you explore it. “

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Also, kind of on a similar note, can I just throw something out there? I don’t think we should be splitting up again. Period. Ever. I mean, radroach incident aside, what if we split off in pairs and get picked off two-by-two by those alicorns? We have no way of communicating long distance, so we should stay within earshot. Sound fair?”

“Very. Good thinking, Haywire.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“I still can’t believe you shot Silver.”

“I—it was an accident! They were both moving, and my optics got knocked out of alignment when I hit the wall making that corner!”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake, must you break everything you own? You just got that gun…what? A couple weeks ago? And it’s already damaged?”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“…three weeks ago.”

“My point exactly.” She lets out a long sigh. “In any case, Silver, you should prob—Silver? Oh, Goddesses damn it, Silver!”

“Wha—oh, seriously!?”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Did anypony see her slip away?”

“No, sorry.” “Mmm-mmm.” “Ah was supposed t’?”

“Ugh. Okay. You guys keep talking. I’ll…I’ll deal with Silver.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“No ‘fence, butcha don’t really ‘ave teh best track record so far. She’s run for that thing thrice now.”

“I’ve dealt with more than a few of her panic attacks over the years, I know the drill by now. And comparatively, this one’s pretty minor. If we can get her mind off that terminal, it should pass.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“This is minor? I’d hate to see major…”

“’Major’ is her locking herself in her room with Pa Manner’s rifle and threatening everypony who tries to enter with, and I quote, ‘complete, total, and all-encompassing obliteration, ahnihilation, and disentigration’.”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Geez, what is she, a dictionary?”

“Inna way, yeah.”

“Blade, maybe you shouldn’t be telling that story with her right there.”

“You’re just upset because she shot you through a wall after saying that.”

“Silver?”

The fact that her voice is right behind me makes my heart leap into my throat. Acting on pure instinct, I spin around and snap out my hoof to try and shove her back.

My hoof is caught in her white magical glow, and I’m way too weak right now to put up a decent fight against her.

“Oh. Hey, Manner. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m kinda busy right now and I reeeeaaally need to concentrate, so if you could just back up a little bit, that’d be—“

“Come on, sweetie. We need your help with some of the planning.”

“No nononono! Just gimme a sec! I can still fix this! I almost got it! Just one split second…”

Tap. Beeeep!

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“Silver, you can’t fix this! Co—“

“Yes I can. Just…I just need to concentrate…”

Tap. Beeeep!

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She sighs. “Silver, look at me for a sec.”

“No! Please, just let me try ag—“

“Silver! Look. At. Me.”

Her voice cuts through the layers upon layers of panic that’ve been plaguing my brain for the past hour. Only to add a couple more, because I know that she only uses that tone at me when I’ve royally fucked up.

Tensing as I go, I turn slowly until I can see her. I can’t bring myself to turn all the way, though. I just stare sideways at her frazzled figure.

With something between a sigh and a groan, she limps up in front of me, then sits down carefully and holds my head in her forehooves so I can’t look anywhere but right into her eyes.

“Silver, listen to me. You cannot fix this one.”

“I can. I jus—“

“You’ve been trying for an hour and nothing’s changed. Hell, I wouldn’t even call this trying. You’re just hitting buttons and praying.”

My voice suddenly gets really weak and choked-up. I can already feel tears behind my eyelids. Dammit, why am I crying? I don’t have time to cry! I should be focusing on that terminal!

“…is that so wrong?” I ask meekly.

“Yes it is, Silver. Because it puts us down one very useful and very valuable pony right when we need you the most. So come on, let’s go join the others, and we can start making some kind of escape plan. Okay?”

The tears are starting to spill out. Dammit dammit dammit, can’t I go for one day without crying over something or other!?

“I—I don’t wanna die down here, Manner. I d-don’t wanna—“

She pulls me into a hug, my face pressed into her shoulder. “I know, sweetie,” she whispers gently into my ear. “None of us do. And that’s why we have to keep working and keep fighting, okay? And that includes you.”

After a few seconds, I burrow myself into her grip, sniffling as I go. “Goddesses, I’m so scared…”

Petting my mane gently with one hoof, she coos softly into my ear. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

I may or may not have spent the next few minutes quietly crying into her fur.

Once I’m settled down enough to move, she points her horn at the magic-burn on my side and says, “This may sting a bit, hon.”

At my little nod, her horn lights up with a particularly dense white light. And I squeal in pain almost instantly.

My side is screaming in agony. I can feel every nerve coming back to life as the burned, warped, twisted flesh slowly rights itself.

I can feel that whole area tingle madly once everything’s healed, like I’m being stabbed with a million tiny needles.

Then, it fades away. Quickly. And before long, the skin is a little stiff, but otherwise back to normal.

What’s left of the tingling sensation of her magic scatters throughout the rest of my body, and there’s more stinging as it closes up the bite marks and bruises from my stumble and duel with the radroach. Before long, all that’s left is a handful of tiny little W-shaped scars on my neck and foreleg. One look at my side, though, and I nearly squeal again.

Sitting there, just behind my shoulder, is a bright pink dot about the diameter of an Anti-Machine round. Stretching out from it in all directions are thick jagged points, the longest of which is nearly two inches. It looks like some kind of giant, angry-pink sunburst that’s forever branded onto my side. And while it may not represent anything particularly special or unpleasant, it still nags at my brain worse than the burning sensation in my leg and neck.

Manner is sitting in front of me, panting and gasping slightly for air. All that spellcasting is starting to take its toll, apparently.

I stare back at the scar, whimpering slightly, before finally asking, “Can’t you do anything about that?”

She shakes her head.

“Aww, come on, Little Rivet. Everypony loves a mare with scars.”

Hearing that come from him is particularly distressing. “N-not everypony…”

“Daisy Doo! Ah bet she’d go head over heels if’n yeh showed ‘er that.”

I don’t bother saying anything to Ace as he trots over. Thankfully, Haywire voices my thoughts. “Daisy also has the distinct issue of being an absolute asshole. And Goddesses preserve the pony who makes Rivet date an asshole.”

Manner interrupts us by letting out a blast of breath in relief. The glow around her horn flickers and dies, while the corresponding glow around her flank-wound pops like a bubble to reveal a thick pink scar. At least hers camouflages with her coat. Leave it to Manner to even get injured more classily than me.

“Okay,” she pants. “That’s it. I’m wiped. Anypony else gets shot or stabbed, you can chug a healing potion until you’re pissing purple.”

I can’t help but giggle. I guess she can’t take a hit in a classy way.

“Alright, everypony. We should get going sooner rather than later. Time waits for nopony.”

“U-um…shouldn’t we wait a bit longer?”

Longview, Ace, and Haywire are giving me that look now. The ‘you’re-just-saying-that-because-you’re-scared’ look. So I quickly explain my reasoning.

“The…um…alicorns. They might still b—be in the atrium…”

Ace shrugs. “Then we send Wire ‘ere out teh check. T’ain’t hard. Right, Wirey?”

Haywire screws up his face slightly in thought. “Yeah, kind of. They didn’t seem particularly perceptive, just…aggressive. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ah’m glad! An’ if all else fails, Ah’ll jus’ enforce with mah special talent!” He wiggles his flank a little more than suggestively, showing off the three spiked hoofshoes painted over his leather barding. I make a point to avoid looking, but I know the painted-on image is a perfect duplicate of his cutie-mark, so I don’t really need to look either.

“If I recall, you did more running and less ‘enforcing’ in our last little spat with them.” Yes! Go Manner! Show him who’s boss!

“Y’all were takin’ yer potshots! ‘f Ah got in teh way, Ah’d be dead right now!”

With any luck, getting shot would improve his attitude some.

“Hey Ace!” The sound of his nickname grabs his attention in no time, getting him to glance over to where Blade and Longview are looking over his Pip-Buck (and is it just the light, or are Longview’s cheeks just a little bit pink?). Blade waves at Ace and adds, “Get over here really quick. I need some advice.”

He nods and trots away from us, the brash-and-cocky brawler instantly replaced with the tactical mind that earned him a second-in-command slot.

The minute he’s moved away, I breathe out a little sigh of relief. I really need to find a place where he’s not hanging over my head constantly. Maybe the vents?

Haywire walks over to where Manner is catching her breath and asks quietly, “You gonna be okay?”

“I’m fine. Just worn out.”

He nods after a split second, then gives her a little nuzzle. She giggles and nuzzles him back, which makes him chuckle and return the favor, and before I know it, the two of them have devolved into a tickle party not two hooves away.

I just roll my eyes and nose my Pip-Buck. Sometimes, they are the most unbelievable ponies I’ve ever met.

Click. Cli-cli-cli-click.

Chunk.

“Welcome back to the Adventures of a Pip-Buck Repair Filly. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t do the theme song this time, but I’m not in the best mood. I…kinda got in big trouble for that hiding spot I found. In fact, I only just got un-grounded from my Pip-Buck.

“But on the plus side, I managed to find a new hiding spot!”

Face, meet hoof.

Some ponies never learn, do they?

“On the second level, underneath the Medical Wing, near the back of the hallway, there’re some vents that’re bigger than normal.” I can hear Ace and Blade perk up at the words ‘Medical Hall’. “So I crawled in, went straight through this weird purple shield thing, and voila! There’s this big room in here, not on any maps or anything! It’s completely empty, but I can see a bunch of terminal plugs and stuff. All I found in it was some really fancy gun thing. Didn’t have any bullets, but still cool enough to keep.”

Manner pulls out the Overmare’s revolver we found and looks it over from the midst of her cuddle-pile with Haywire. I can’t see specifically, but I know she’s probably reading the note attached to it, trying to puzzle out the identity of A.S. and the secrets that may be held there.

“Anyway, I started moving some of my things in. Some games, toys, a little bookshelf with all my favorite books, and all my Pip-Buck maintenance tools!

“…”

Without warning, her voice dropped from the bubbly, excited filly into a quiet, sad little voice.

“Honestly, I’m starting to need this hiding place more and more. It’s….It’s like everypony expects me to be a supermare or something. It’s not fair! Just because I’m the Overmare’s daughter doesn’t make me special.”

Whoa whoa whoa…WHAT?!? OVERMARE’S DAUGHTER!?

Bombshell much!?

“Doesn’t even get me any cool favors. But everypony expects so much out of me, and if I get a single ‘C’ on a test, it’s like I failed the whole Stable.

“…ponies are stupid.

“Anyway, this has been the Adventures of a Pip-Buck Repair Filly……can I actually call myself that if I’ve only repaired one Pip-Buck ever? Tune in next time for…something, I guess.”

The click of her signing off almost fills our half of the room. The other half is filled with the chatter of Blade, Ace, and Longview using this new information to try and track down the Medical Hall.

I don’t even notice. My brain is still reeling.

“She was the Overmare’s...daughter!?”

“I…guess so.”

“B-but wouldn’t that make her, like…a super-celebrity or something!? Next in line for leadership?! And she’s talking about no cool favors!?”

I’m about to keep going when I see Haywire shaking his head. “Overmare of a Stable is an elected position. Once an Overmare gets ready to retire, the rest of the ponies pick a new Overmare from their own ranks. So an Overmare’s daughter would just be a title.”

I’m taking that in when Manner shakes her head from her perch atop his chest. “Not all Stables are like that, sweetie. I heard about one from a trader…forget the number, but it’s somewhere down near the Hoof. They passed the job from mother to daughter.”

He just shrugs. “’The only constant between Stables is that there are no constants between Stables.’ But I’m just trying to point out why ‘Overmare’s Daughter’ would be nothing special.”

I nod slightly, taking in that information and formulating theories, while Manner just looks up at him and asks, “Where’d you learn that phrase?”

“Friend of mine, from when…when I was younger.”

They fall into a little silence, staring at each other, as I nose over to the Stats menu. I glance up at them for a brief moment. For how well they mesh, one would think their cutie marks are a yin and a yang. Rather than a magnifying glass for him and three white hearts for her.

Pushing those thoughts aside before they get distracting, I flip over to the ‘Templates’ tab, trying to decipher its meaning.

[Current Template: ------
Preset Templates:

Inspiration

Party Time

Power Nap

Vacation

Workaholic
Custom Templates:

VRXIFA
]

…Obviously, the Templates must have something to do with the empty space from the lack of a peripheral port. Since those two seem unique to this Pip-Buck, they’re probably connected. As for the names…

Well, it doesn’t look like one of these is on right now. But without knowing the driving mechanism here, there are a lot of things these names could mean. And then there’s that last one, which I’m pretty sure is some kind of secret code. But what does it mean? What’s it trying to tell me?

I scroll down to this ‘VRXIFA’ and just look at it, as if begging it to surrender its secrets.

It doesn’t respond. The jerk.

…well, there’s always one way to figure out what something does…

Pre-emptively wincing and waiting for some massive explosion, I mentally hit ‘Select’.

Click!

[Current Template: VRXIFA
Preset Templates:

Inspiration

Party Time

Power Nap

Vacation

Workaholic
Custom Templates:
]

Nothing happens.

And after a few seconds of waiting, nothing continues to happen.

Gently uncoiling to tab around the Pip-Buck’s menus, it doesn’t take long to tell that absolutely nothing has changed.

Nothing about the operating system acts, looks, or operates differently.

The whole thing is perfectly normal.

Well, as normal as a Pip-Buck can get when it’s missing things like an EFS and a Peripheral Slot.

“Something wrong?”

I meep and jump slightly, only to realize it’s just Manner. And…geez, how did those two get more tangled up? Shaking my head, I reply, “No, just…some weird function on this thing that doesn’t make sense.”

She shrugs…somehow. “Well, hon, that’s your area of expertise, not mine.”

I nod, then just mutter, “You did ask.”

I reach back into my saddlebags, pulling out my canteen (which seems noticeably heavier than I remember) and taking a drink.

Haywire perks up and glances over. “How much is in that thing?”

“Um…five bottles worth.”

He gets a blank look, then deadpans, “That solves a lot of problems right there. Something I could’ve known a long time ago.”

I blush a little, cringing and gesturing at the terminal nearby. “S-sorry. I was…um…busy.”

He’s about to say something that’s probably full of snark, when Blade trots over looking like a million caps. “Good news, everypony! We think we found the Med-Wing!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Little Rivets ‘ere sure has good timin’!” Ace trots up and shoots me a toothy grin that makes me shudder.

Manner nods and grins back, much to my chagrin.

Haywire just asks, “So we’re heading out?”

“Yup. Suit up and arm up! We move when we’re ready!” As if to emphasize his point, Blade slams a fully-loaded clip into his sniper rifle and slings it onto his back.

With little more than a nod, Manner and Haywire untangle themselves from each other and stand up. Haywire checks his ME-Pistol, turning to me as he does, while Manner flips out her revolver and opens the chambers. I, on the other hoof, pull my legs under me and try to stand.

And fail. Miserably.

It’s like I spontaneously put on a hundred extra pounds. Suddenly, my saddlebag/battlesaddle feels less like a natural extension to my body and more like a painfully-nailed-on piece of barding that’s covered in lead weights and sandbags. Even my Pip-Buck feels like it gained a few extra pounds.

Haywire’s face quickly draws into concern. “You…okay?”

I nod and try again. Whatever that was, it seems to have more or less passed, as I manage to stand up like nothing’s wrong. Despite the fact that my legs are a little shakier than normal.

Flashing him the biggest smile I can muster (it’s actually kind of pathetically tiny), I nod again. See? Bear witness to how little babysitting Silver Rivet needs! Now let’s find a way out of this Stable!

He doesn’t look like he believes it at first, until he’s interrupted by Manner’s scowling face asking, “Anypony have any .357-rounds?”

“Don’t think so. Sorry, hon.”

“What’s the matter?” asks Longview as he approaches. “You out?”

“On my last five. Bloatsprites may be easy to fight, but they do a number on your ammo stock.”

“Here,” Haywire starts towards me, making me jump a little as he holds out his gun. “Mind taking a look?”

I nod and take in my hooves, sitting down on my hindlegs. It’s not flopped over on the ground, but it’s a touch of relief. Turning his gun over and over, I take quick and efficient stock of the parts, dredging up the blueprint for his specific weapon from my memory and cross-referencing it with the one I’m making just now. Already, I can see a few nasty discrepancies. Like the fact that his Arcane Focusing Lens is just slightly tilted. Less than a tenth of a degree, but at the range of a few yards, that can make all kinds of difference.

Not to mention, the mirrored barrel of the Focus Optics is slightly warped. From what it looks like, the tilted Focusing Lens is causing the main portion of the beam to hit it, rather than just the peripheral scattering like it’s supposed to. Since that’s a little more than the mirrors can handle, it’s starting to warp slightly. Not enough to cause trouble, but that won’t stay true for long if that lens isn’t realigned. Not to mention, that alone is decreasing beam power just slightly, as more of the beam is reflected aside.

As for the rest of the gun, it looks pretty alright. But if it takes another hit like that, it certainly won’t be for long.

I hand it back to him, struggling slightly to hold it up, dropping my forelegs as soon as he takes it. “Your focusing lens is slightly twisted, and I’m not sure I have hooves steady enough to calibrate it on that level. So for now, aim slightly up and to the right. It’s gonna need a new barrel if we wait too long, and it won’t be able to take another hit like that, so take good care of it until I can find some replacement parts and steady hooves.”

“Ah got steady hooves. Might be worth somethin’.”

“Oh!” I feign brightening up in surprise as I turn to Ace. “So you can calibrate an Arcane Focusing Lens using a ninety-degree Mag-grip screwdriver to within a hundredth of a degree of accuracy in its alignment? Such talent!”

Okay, on second thought…maybe not the smartest thing to do. Probably should’ve thought it over a few dozen times. And if it were anypony else, I would’ve.

But his face…so fucking worth it.

I can hear Manner giggling to herself, and a couple others are stifling chuckles. I’m working hard to stifle a little giggle myself, while Ace just stands there dumbfounded. “Maybeh not…”

A few giggles escape before I can pull them back, and I once again struggle to get on my hooves. It takes a few tries, but I manage.

“Daaang. Sassy Silver strikes again!” Manner laughs, and Longview and Haywire are joining in.

I just blush slightly and start for the stairway down, followed closely by Blade and the others.

I’m just barely a few steps down when I damn near trip over the edge of the stair and go tumbling. I have to flail for a few seconds.

It’s this damn Pip-Buck! When did it get so heavy all of the sudden?

“You okay, Rivet?” Asks Blade, sneaking close behind me. The sound is enough to make me stiffen like I’ve had ice water dumped onto my spine, but not much else. I’m too tired for anything else.

“Y-yeah. Fine,” I stammer out once I can talk. “J-just need to…focus…”

After lighting my Illumination Talisman, I make sure to keep my steps slow, measured, and careful. The last thing I want in a place like this is to trip and fall down the stairs.

Finally, after what feels like ages, we make it to the bottom. A couple tries that nearly send me sprawling later, and I’ve managed to balance on three hooves for long enough to plug my Pip-Buck into the wall port.

[OPEN ‘Stable 16 Entry Door’?
Y N]

It takes a couple tries, but I manage to engage the kick-lever that flips out my trigger-bit with a small pneumatic hiss. Turning back, I nod slightly to Blade.

“Everypony ready?” he calls back to the group.

They voice their various affirmations, whereupon he turns back to me and nods. I nod back and mentally hit ‘y’, grasping my trigger-bit in my mouth.

[OPENING……]

The door slides open, and Blade and I are both set and ready for whatever comes.

Which makes me wonder exactly why I screamed in surprise and terror at the radroach that jumps straight at us.

Kra-POW!

Complete miss. Moreover, the recoil is enough to knock me straight back into Haywire.

I’m so damn lucky Blade’s standing right next to me. Because it was apparently aiming for him and not me.

His hoof swings and cleanly misses, giving the two-hooves-long insect a clear shot to clasp onto his side. Its legs cling with surprising aptitude to the rough metal of his armor, but its mandibles can’t seem to find purchase as it tries to bite down.

Blade steps out of the hallway, freeing up enough space to turn and show the side the radroach is on toward Ace.

Who proceeds to punch it with extraordinary prejudice.

Crunch! Ace’s brass hoofshoe plants itself firmly onto the roaches’ backside, making it squeal in pain but somehow continue to hold on.

It seems to process the fact that it’s not getting anywhere with the metal-armored pony and instead jumps at the orange-coated, red-maned form of Blazing Ace himself.

And lands directly onto his waiting hoof.

With a shout of fury I never expected to hear from that pony, he stands up on his hindlegs and pile-drives the radroach into the ground. Its unarmored underside caves in around his hoof with a sickening Splat! and a spray of greenish-yellow radroach guts.

Picking his hooves up out of the mess and grinning like a crazy pony, he chuckles, “Anypony else need an exterminator?”

Collectively, we all just groan as I push myself back onto shaky hooves. I’d facehoof, but I don’t really have the balance for it at the moment.

“Really, Ace. If you’re gonna pull out a lame pun, at least make it less cliché,” groans Longview as he carefully steps around the mess.

Suddenly, the corpse is wrapped in a pale white glow and lifted off the ground. Manner carefully walks up to it and starts highlighting various bits of its interior with her magic.

“Um…sweetie…why?” Haywire’s just behind me, covering his nose and trying not to look at the sight of his wife burying her head in the corpse of a giant insect. I’m not afraid to admit that I cringe a little, too. Especially when hit by the smell of the other radroach I painted the ceiling with earlier.

Completely nonchalantly, she explains, “This radroach doesn’t look quite right. The back armor’s too flexible, there’s no armor underneath, and the legs are slightly different. I’d like to see what other differences are there.”

“Well…have fun, I guess.” Haywire nudges me from behind to where the others are heading, towards the Atrium.

Goddesses damn it, why do I keep swaying? This is getting annoying.

Walking by the first door on my right, I take a long look at the nameplate. It’s a good excuse for a little “rest”, and lets Haywire past me.

The nameplate is scratched out completely, probably by a century of passing radroach feet. But I think I can just make out the tops of letters. It’s enough to let me know that there are two words in this name, five letters each.

The second line is three letters, but given how little of them are left, I could be wrong.

Resuming my walk, I pass by that office that continues to puzzle me with the nameplate alone.

{FOG BANK
VIP}

Who is this Fog Bank pony? Why would they get their own office up here with the Overmare? And VIP? If Stables are all about survival, why would they waste time and effort on a VIP?

Or maybe my definition of VIP is different from theirs…

Realizing I’d stopped to stare at the office door like it was in an interrogation, I sigh and resume my walk, taking careful, measured steps. I make it to the little crowd by the Atrium door just as Haywire returns from the Overmare’s office.

“Place is clear. Dunno about the hallways, though, so stay careful.”

They nod and Ace flicks open the door. With the kind of care only a trained survivalist could pull off, he and Longview step out the door and turn right along the catwalk. Blade and Haywire are right behind them, and I can hear Manner trotting up behind me. So I take a deep breath and take the first steps into that nightmare pit.

It’s real pity that those steps are an absolute fumble.

My hoof lands somehow on its tip. Maybe because of the fucking too-heavy Pip-Buck, or maybe I just dragged it slightly too much. In any case, it curls awkwardly under me, and wheee! Down I go, straight into the metal floor!

I can hear Manner’s pace increasing with urgency, and Haywire’s turned around with clear concern and terror on his face. “Rivet?” he asks.

“I’m fine!” I reply, waving off his concern with a hoof as I roll onto my stomach and push myself upwards.

I think I get about an inch before my legs refuse to take the weight.

Dammit! Come on, Silver, just stand the fuck up! We don’t have time for this!

I actually manage it, too, on the second try.

It’s just a pity that Manner picks that moment to shove me back to the ground.

“Stay still, Silver. We don’t know what’s wrong.” Her command given, she immediately begins a precursory examination on my various limbs.

“I know it’s nothing important. Now come on. We need to move,” I mutter back.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Silver can’t move.”

“I can move!” I snap back at Blade. “I just…” I struggle against Manner’s hoof as it holds me to the ground.

That’s not fair! When did she put on a million extra pounds!?

“Silver, if you keep trying to move, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

I just silently growl with annoyance. We don’t have time for this shit!

“What’s wrong?” Haywire asks quietly to her. Like I can’t hear them.

“I don’t know! Her muscles just aren’t working properly!”

“Maybe she’s just scared again!” calls back Longview.

“No, that wouldn’t do something like this. Silver, I need you to tell me if you have any other symptoms.”

Oh boy. She’s in doctor mode again. “Nothing. I mean, my foreleg and side are kind of itchy, but it shouldn’t have anything to do with anything.”

Haywire’s brow furrows instantly. “Isn’t that where the radroach bit you?”

Instantly, Manner’s head snaps upright and spins toward the radroach corpse in her magical glow. She draws it to herself, all but tears open its mandibles to look inside the cavity behind them.

“You’re telling me a radroach did this?” Blade asks, walking up.

Haywire simply shrugs.

I try yet again to stand up, and fail yet again. Aaaand now Haywire’s holding me down. Jerk. He’s supposed to be helping me up.

“We need to move,” Longview states simply. “We’re too exposed here.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Whatever Blade was about to say is thrown to the wayside by Manner. “This stupid thing has venom glands!?”

Lo and behold, she rips a small, teardrop-shaped green thing from the back of the radroaches’ throat. It’s barely the size of a tooth, and covered in little bulbs and tumor-looking things. Needless to say, it’s not something pleasant-looking.

“What c’ed it do?”

“I’ll need to analyze it if I want to know for sure, but for now, I think we can assume it does this,” she gestures a hoof over to me.

Gee, thanks Manner.

“All the more reason to get to the medical wing,” Haywire points out.

“Agreed. I can carry her,” offers Blade.

“I…I don’t need to be carried!”

Haywire and Ace promptly ignore me, all but throwing me onto Blade’s back. As they march out into the Atrium, it doesn’t take long for me to sullenly accept my fate.

“Can I at least be some kind of turret?” I mutter at Manner.

She just gives me a little smile back. “You’d need to be able to turn to be a turret.”

Oh. Right. Goddesses damn it.

“You know, for a pony who’s named after it, your bedside manner is terrible.”

“Hush,” Blade grumbles beneath me (speaking of beneath me, he could really use some new armor. This metal stuff chafes). “Don’t forget we’re in enemy territory here.”

Stifling the angry sigh for later, I mutter, “Yes sir.”

After Blade’s order, none of us bother talking for the rest of the short walk. We’re all extremely on edge, though. It’s clear in the way Ace is tiptoeing around to avoid the loud clacking sound his hoofshoes make on this metal floor. Or the way Longview and Haywire both have their trigger-bits in their mouths. Or the way I can feel Blade tensing up beneath me every time some noise echoes out from the…Sub-Atrium? Second Atrium? Oversized pit straight down into nothingness just waiting to swallow us all whole?

Rrrg. Focus, Rivet. Focus on getting out of here and not stapling names to everything.

It takes surprisingly little time for us to circle around the walkway to the hallway opposite the one we came from. Either the Atrium is smaller than first glance would imply, or it’s just a side effect of not being able to actually walk the distance.

Once we reach the six-o-clock hallway (using the hallway to the Overmare’s office as noon), though…

Manner presses herself against the adjacent window, looking like a foal at Hearth’s-Warming. “Oh…merciful Celestia…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong! But…that facility…”

The others peek in through the windows, while Longview trots down the hallway we’d been intending to go down. I would peek into the window with them, but Blade happens to be pointed the wrong direction.

“Jus’ looks like a buncha flasks ‘n hot plates teh me.”

“Yes, but it’s intact flasks and working hot plates! Not just that but distilleries, burettes, centrifuges…a pony with the know-how and access to this could make any chem known to ponykind!”

“…wow…”

“Well, as long as it really is working, hon. Rivet?”

“I…can’t quite…”

“Oh, here.” Blade turns slightly, and instantly, I can see the whole room stretching into the darkness. Row after row of desks, carefully sorted ingredients, and all kinds of chemistry equipment even I don’t know the names of. All of it perfectly preserved, with only a thin layer of dust to show the passage of time.

“Ah…yeah. Everything looks like it works. Well…from here at least…”

“Then I think we just found our new priority. Ace?”

“Mos’ definitely. But how’re we gettin’ in?”

“There’s a door down there. Wouldn’t respond to anything I did, though,” Longview mutters, trotting back into view. When we all just look at him as if he was a mysterious specter, he just shrugs, adjusts his cloak, and says, “You were all distracted, so I scouted ahead.”

“Well, maybe Rivet can work her magic to get us in,” Haywire offers, leaving me to blush slightly at the praise. “And if nothing else, I have a screwdriver and a few bobby pins that might help.”

Blade nods, then asks, “Were there any other doors?”

“Yeah, two others. Couldn’t get ‘em open, but one was cracked enough to maybe pry. Might be worth a try.”

“Alright then. Ace, Manner…let’s see what we can do with those doors. Longview, take Rivet and Haywire to that locked door and check that out.”

Longview simply nods and steps up alongside Blade for the Rivet-transfer, which is unfortunately facilitated by Ace. Ugh…why couldn’t it have been Haywire? Pretty please?

…okay, Ace…you will be paying for that hoof on my flank once I get my legs working again. I’ll make sure Haywire makes you pay.

Once I’m situated on Longview’s rather comfortable back, and Ace is trotting away with Manner and Blade, I finally breathe a small sigh of relief. Of all the backs I’ve ridden on today, Longview’s is definitely the most comfy. Between the wide platform of his gear and the fuzzy comfort of his winter-cloak, it’s a comfortable back to ride on. And after going from the chafe-fest of Blade’s armor to this…I let a little smile onto my face.

The nearest door on my right is the one that Ace and Blade are currently trying to pry open, as something seems to have gotten stuck in the slide-track. We simply walk past them, towards the lone door on the left side of the hallway.

Longview trots up to the control panel, then taps the little switch over to the ‘open’ position with one hoof.

Nothing happens.

“See? It’s not even lockout or something. It’s just not responding.”

Within seconds, I’ve mentally disassembled the door mechanism, even around Haywire’s hooves as he struggles with the key-slot. Stable-tec Model 4, with a port for Terminal and Pip-Buck control and reprogramming. There should be two, but one of them’s covered, implying it’s capable of being controlled from elsewhere. And naturally, the ports have been modified into the square ones that seem to be utterly unique to this Stable. It makes me wonder just how hard life would be for us if I didn’t find that Interface Cable with Sunny Charm’s corpse.

‘Focus, Rivet! Stop getting distracted!’

Obeying the part of my brain that’s not wandering, I refocus back on the door mechanism, taking stock of every part I can see. Control switch. Connection port. Key slot, to which Haywire just lost a bobby pin. Status light indicator. Power li—

“Oh. Duh.”

“What?”

“It…um…doesn’t have any power. That’s why it’s not working.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re telling me I just wasted a bobby pin for nothing!?”

Wincing preemptively at his reaction, I nod.

“AUGH! Dammit! Why didn’t you tell me sooner!? I only have so many of these things, you know!”

“S-Sorry. I didn’t notice until now…”

Longview turns slightly under me, as if to put himself between us, but Haywire’s already controlling his breathing and calming himself. Once he’s calmer-looking, he asks, “If the power’s out, then why are the lights still working?”

Lo and behold, something I hadn’t noticed until now was that one or two of the lights are, indeed, working. Barely. They flicker wildly, and their light is a lot dimmer than an Arcanotech Bulb of that make and model should be, but they work.

“Maybe…” I start, before choosing my words carefully, then restarting, “Maybe the batteries are running low? Or—“

“And what’s up with the Overmare’s section. The doors were fine there,” Longview adds.

“Maybe…um…maybe they’re a priorithy…”

“I’m hearin’ a lotta maybe’s comin’ offa yeh, Little Rivet.”

“Look, I don’th know, offay!? Shere’s a losha shings ish fould be, and I’m shrying she fishure ish ouf, sho lay off!”

Apparently, nopony except Haywire is used to the idea of me shouting at them, as I managed to stun them all into silence. It’s either that or they have nothing to say to that. I choose to believe the answer of ‘both’.

The silence is just starting to turn awkward when Manner walks up and asks, “Silver, what’s wrong with your voice?”

“Fwash?” It’s only once she points it out that I notice just how awkward talking around my lethargic tongue has gotten recently. “Noshing’s…Nosh…Nothhhhhh…” Three tries, and I’m reduced to groaning noisily about my apparent inability to say the word ‘nothing’ properly.

“Ace! Haywire!” All of us glance over to where Blade is struggling to pry open the door alone. “Help me with this?”

As they trot away, Manner starts prodding me with her magic. Lifting my legs, moving my hooves around, and even prying open my mouth. And naturally, I can’t even do anything about it.

“Being paralyshed shucksh…”

“I know, sweetie. Just…hang in there, okay?” She turns to Longview. “Can you open this door?”

He shakes his head. “Needs power. Apparently, some do and some don’t. Right?” It’s a struggle, but I manage to move my head in what might be a tiny nod. “How can you tell, anyways?”

“She ligshs above she swishh. Lef’ one.”

He nods, looking back at me with a concerned stare, before turning to Manner and asking, “She…will be okay, right?”

“Hard to say. Her autonomous functions seem to be unaffected. Heart rate, breathing, eye motion...completely normal. But everything else is just…not working.” She runs a hoof through her slightly-curly candy-cane mane, the nervous action practically instinctual at this point. I could brew up an antivenom if I had that lab...but until then, all we can do is keep her comfortable and not get bit.”

Thanks, Manner. Way to talk about me like I’m not here.

…not like I could say anything legible anyways, but still.

Screeeeeech! Clunk!

Once we’re done wincing from the harsh noise, all three (well, two) of us whip around toward the door being pried. They managed to pull it off, but…that was one hell of a loud noise.

We all stiffen, weapons all but readying themselves as we wait for that inequine scream that’ll signal the arrival of alicorns.

Nothing yet…

……

……

…still nothing…

……

……

…there is no way they didn’t hear that.

……

……

Haywire simply turns back to us slightly and shakes his head.

Seriously?

They must be borderline deaf.

Longview and Manner relax (though only slightly, if Longview’s back-tension is anything to go by) and start making their way over to the newly-opened door. Ace turns and enters ahead of us at an unspoken signal from Blade, while Blade and Haywire both stand vigilant, ears perked and guns at the ready.

The instant we walk into the room, three things grab my attention. The first is that the walls are covered in cracked and fading paint, similar to that of the Overmare’s office. The second is the Model 195 terminal on the desk, a common staple of the Equestrian Wasteland. And the third is the fact that the object jamming the door mechanism was, in fact, somepony’s ribcage.

Just the ribcage, though. Not entirely sure where the rest of them went. Which means I’m denied a spare Pip-Buck to disassemble and study. Dammit.

As if sensing my innate desires, Longview plonks me down at the chair behind the desk, wiping the thin layer of dust off the terminal for me, pulling the Interface Cable from my bag, and plugging my Pip-Buck into the terminal.

“Shanksh,” I mutter quietly at him. Apparently, that’s all my voice can do right now.

He just nods as the terminal boots up. “Need anything else?”

I shake my head. No need to bug him with my desire to use the bathroom.

He nods at my response, then trots off to join Haywire and Blade. Ace and Manner are both trying to explore the rooms past the right wall, since the doors here actually have power (for unexplainable reasons). One looks like a staff lounge from what I can see, while the other I can’t see properly from where I’m sitting.

I turn back to the terminal, thought-commanding the thing to go into debug mode. At least that still works…

Within seconds, I’ve thought myself past the firewall and into the wall of gibberish, which contains the password…somewhere.

Okay…that one’s junk. So is that one. Aaaand…three more junk passwords down. Time to start guessing.

Ooooh, so close.

Ha! Got it!

‘melody’, huh? Interesting…

[Review Patient Files

Work Schedule and Punch Clock

Review Personal Journals

Log out]

Yawn to the first two. Third one might be fun to glance over, though.

[Personal log 1: 6/14/2058

So, apparently, I’ve been situated as this Stable’s doctor. Me and about two other ponies. Honestly, how do they expect three doctors to handle the well-being of over three hundred ponies!? It’s absurd!

Still, I can see why it’s like this. So few doctors made it through after the megaspells hit. Not to mention, between us and the Chem Lab across the hall, we should have the Stable Sniffles covered. So I guess it works out.

And credit where credit is due, this Dinky Doo sure knows her stuff. Overmare for three days and she’s already got the place running like a well-oiled machine. Kudos.

Anyway, I don’t expect to be using this thing much. I have better things to do with my time. But I thought I’d mark my arrival or something. For the records.

~Dr. Morbid Humor, M.D.]

Click.

[Personal log 2: 2/5/2098

Had another cave-in today. Killed one, critically injured three. Barely managed to get those three stable in time.

Unbelievable. What the hell is Fog Bank even looking for down there? What’s so important that we’d h--]

“Silver?”

I try my vary hardest to jerk out of my chair and flee in surprise, but my body outright refuses to cooperate. I manage the squeak, though.

Manner’s standing politely nearby. “Could I steal you away from that for a bit?”

I let out a little groan, starting up my foolproof rationale for why I should keep reading through the personal logs of long-dead doctor ponies, but she cuts off my monologue with, “Just for a bit. I promise I’ll put you back. But this is important.”

Begrudgingly, I nod. Within moments, a white magical glow has disconnected my Pip-Buck from the terminal and guided me onto the pink-coated back of my adoptive sister. I can feel her struggling under my weight, but at least we don’t have far to go.

She leads me into the room she’d been exploring, which looks like some kind of examination room now that I can see it clearly. Along one wall is a simple bed with curtains surprisingly bereft of dust. The wall across from it is loaded with medical equipment. I can’t say their names or functions, but I can mentally dissect their inner workings in seconds. And alongside the expected array of syringes and bandages, I can spot what looks like hammers, electrodes, and a dizzying array of saw blades and scalpels.

It’s enough to make me try and shiver, breath quickening a bit.

With a struggling, magic-aided heave, Manner hauls me off her back and onto the bed.

“Whew! I guess I need to start working out,” she breathes.

I can’t help but laugh at that one. It’s this breathy little sound, but it’s something. Something this stupid poison hasn’t taken from me just yet.

She takes a couple more seconds to recuperate (who knew I weigh that much? Though I’m betting most of that weight is in my saddlebag and gun), then starts adjusting me so I’m lying on my legs with one foreleg hanging off the side. “It’s either that or the rocks you’ve been eating. Can’t decide which.”

My smirk joins her own, and I mutter back, “Shon’t eash rossh. Shash’s your Pa.” Geez, my voice has gotten quiet. I thought she said my breathing was fine!

She lets out a groan, but it’s accompanied with a smile. “Oh, ha ha. ‘Pa Manner eats rocks for breakfast’. Very original, Silver.”

Okay, lame joke. But it’s enough to get us chuckling as she browses over the array of medical tools. My chuckle turns into totally-justified and extremely-mild hyperventilation. Her magic eventually wraps around…oh. Oh no. She’s going for the one with the electrodes and the Spark Battery. Oh dear Goddesses, no…

She must have seen the look on my face upon turning around, because she almost immediately groans, “Look, Silver, I know how you feel about medical equipment, but I need to do this. If I’m going to make some kind of antivenom, I need to know if it’s the muscles or the nerves being affected. So…please, just try and calm down for me, okay?”

My look of abject terror remains.

“Please, Silver? You could be dying.”

“Thoo-Do I have a shoishe?”

“No, but it’d make me feel a lot better.”

Rrrrrg…

…well, at least she doesn’t give me puppy-dog eyes like her husband.

Plus, out of all the ponies who are liable to be trusted in my vicinity with a glorified taser, I suppose Manner would be at the top of that list.

I do my best to nod, pulling off little more than a tiny motion. One she apparently catches, as she puts on a little smile and gets to work hooking up that monstrosity to my foreleg.

…I wonder who would be at the bottom of that list? Ace comes to mind first, but I have to consider that he’d probably end up shocking himself with it, so he wouldn’t be any more threatening than normal. Fiber Optic, maybe? Or Daisy Doo. Tough call between—

The sudden appearance of the rest of the group is enough to make me jump a little. Blade glances around the Exam Room nervously, before continuing onward to the Staff Lounge. Ace and Longview follow him, while Haywire trots into our room and shuts the door behind him.

“Two alicorns were in the Atrium,” he whispers nervously. “We should be fine with the door closed, but keep your voices down. Just to be safe.”

Manner nods, and I…well, being loud is something I don’t exactly have to worry about anymore, now do I? Thanks to some stupid fucking radroach in some stupid fucking corner of this stupid fuckin—

“Why didn’t we hear it coming?” Manner asks.

“Dunno. Maybe it was far enough away that we didn’t hear it screaming?”

“Mmm. That’s a scary thought.”

“Indeed. Ah—Manner, what crazed experiment are you performing on poor Rivet?”

“It’s not--!” she starts, before stopping herself and lowering her voice. “It’s not a crazed experiment, it’s a medical procedure!”

“Isn’t that the same thing to you?” he asks, his sarcastic smirk countering the lack of emotion in his voice.

She’s about to say something, presumably defending her honor, before noticing the sarcastic grin plastered all over his face. Sulking, she goes back to her work and mutters something about bad humor.

She’s rewarded for her mutterings with a nuzzle to the neck and a little, “Love you too.” From what I can see, it placates her. Some.

After a few seconds of moving to sit diligently in the corner, fiddling with his Magic Pistol, he looks back up and asks, “What are you doing, though?”

Having finished attaching the electrodes, she brings the attached device up in front of her and fiddles with the knobs a bit. “Checking to make sure her muscles are still working.”

“Oh. Okay.”

After a couple seconds of silence, she finally says, “Okay. And three…two…one.”

I brace myself as much as equinely possible, and right on the beat, I feel a sudden electric shock run through my foreleg. Said leg jumps straight up into the air barely a split-second later, without ever have consulted my brain in the process.

She lets up on the trigger of the little device, and my foreleg drops back down to hang limply.

“Okaaayyyyyy,” she mutters to herself.

“Now, the real question here is how to make her dance with those.”

“Sweetie, that’s not helping.”

“Alright. Just sayin’.”

Again with the whole talking-about-me-like-I’m-not-here thing.

Manner’s busy going over theories and ideas in her head, making that little scrunch-face she always gets when she’s thinking really hard. Haywire, presumably bored, noses open one of the cupboards below the array of horrifying-death-and-dismemberment implements otherwise known as medical tools.

“Oh, hey! Awesome!” Manner and I both glance over to Haywire, who’s backing out of the cupboard with two healing potions, a roll of bandages, a few chems, and a stupid grin on his face. “Found you a little present!”

“Oh, that’s great! Thanks, sweetie!” She pulls them out of his hooves with her white magic, cataloguing each before slipping them into her saddlebags. By my count, there were two healing potions, one roll of regular bandages, two syringes of Med-X, and one syringe of Hydra.

“Anytime,” he grins back. Whereupon he’s rewarded for his efforts with a full-on-the lips smooch. I can see him blushing and glancing nervously over at me, right before I roll my eyes at those two. I do quickly decide to shut my eyes entirely, though. Both to give them privacy and to avoid dealing with the mental image of Manner snogging a buck. Even if I’ve already seen them doing worse.

…dammit! That’s the mental image I was trying to avoid!

“So what’s the plan?” Oh, they’re done with their little affair now. Wonderful.

“Not quite sure on the specifics, but they’re talking about getting down to the third floor and reactivating the generator.”

I try to say something about how Stables use Spark Reactors and not Generators, but my mouth isn’t exactly cooperating. Dammit.

Just as he says that, the door fwooshes open to let Platinum Blade squeeze into the already-crowded room. Once the door is closed behind him, he asks, “You tell her the plan?”

“What I know about it. Which is just the general stuff.”

“Alright…” He glances over at me, grimacing slightly. “Will she recover anytime soon?”

“Don’t think so,” Manner says, putting on her lecturing tone as she unstraps my armor and battlesaddle. I have to admit, having that gone makes laying on my side a lot nicer. “I managed to work out that the venom is some kind of neurotoxin, which narrows down what it could be quite a bit. If I’m going to make an antivenom, though, I need to know precisely what this stuff is.”

The room is silent for a brief moment as everypony processes that, while Manner pulls out the venom gland she’d collected earlier. As if demanding it to surrender its secrets, she stares at it harshly before idly muttering, “I’m gonna need more of these.”

“More of whats?”

“These!” She practically shoves the venom gland into their faces, causing them to recoil more than a little. It’s okay, bucks. I would too, if I could move. “If I’m going to isolate the toxin and analyze it, I’m going to need more of these!”

“How many more?”

“As many as I can get my hooves on.” She slips the teardrop-shaped organ back into her saddlebag, and I can almost see everypony in the room breathe a sigh of relief.

“So…new object’ve: kill some roaches?” Ace offers through the swiftly-opening door. “That’s a goal Ah can git behind.”

“Agreed. But we also need to focus on re-booting the power, first and foremost. So we’ll say this: everypony but Rivet moves to the third floor. We look for the generator room, fire it up when we get there, and run back here before anything nasty notices us. If we find any Radroaches along the way, we avoid shooting the head, grab the venom gland, and move on. Any questions?”

“We’re leaving Silver behind?”

“We have to.”

“But…shouldn’t we leave someone behind to protect her?”

“Who? We can’t exactly spare anypony, Manner. Me? We need the firepower in case of alicorn attack. Ace? We’ll be screwed in close quarters. Longview? He has both maps and some serious firepower, and both are vital. Haywire? We’d have to turn back at the first locked door. You? If we get hurt, we’re done for.”

Manner just sulks, the overwhelming logic silencing any counter-argument she clearly wants to make.

Oh goddesses, they're actually considering this, weren’t they?

But…rrrrg! I can’t even tell myself it’s a bad idea is the worst part. On one hand, Blade’s right that it’s our best chance for getting out of this Stable alive.

Still, though…I’ll be all alone up here! Totally helpless!

In the end, my desire to see daylight again trumps out over the terror.

Manner glances over to me, still clearly expressing doubts, and I do my best to offer a small nod. It’s enough to settle her internal debate, and she says, “At least let me make Silver a little more comfortable.”

“Of course.”

Manner nods and leaves to go get something. Probably the terminal.

“So if the Atrium’s blocked, how are we getting down to maintenance?”

“Through this big room off to one side. Longview thinks it’s the orchard.”

“Stables can ‘ave orchards?”

“Mmmhm. Not often, though. Usually it’s just a small one to take the edge off the food stores and stave off Scurvy.”

“Huh…”

“Ugh…sweet Celestia…” Manner groans as she walks back in, lugging the terminal on her back. She doesn’t seem to approve of the things’ absurd weight. “…The hell are these things made of, rocks!?”

“Nah. Just a ridiculously thick metal shell,” Haywire snarks, taking the terminal from her back onto his. She all but collapses in relief.

“How is that thin’ even runnin’ still? I thought teh power was out?”

“Well…Silver told me once that they don’t even plug in. They have their own Spark Reactor inside that feeds into a battery, which runs the whole thing. Apparently, it keeps them from getting power surges or…um…something.” I could easily finish that monologue, but I do it mentally instead.

Haywire sets the terminal next to me forelegs, then gently turns me so that I’m looking downwards at it. He’s thoroughly confused at my arcanotech cable, and has to try a few times, but he catches on quicker than I thought he would and gets everything hooked up properly.

Ace, on the other hoof, is thinking about something. “Could Ah rig that up intah some kinda bomb?” he finally asks.

Haywire nods. “I’ve heard of some people who rig frag grenades into terminals and set it all to explode when you hit the keyboard. You’d need to completely gut the terminal to build that, though.”

“No, Ah mean that same kinda thing, but with teh Spark Reactor.”

“That…you could do that. It’d be pretty tough to build, but…ugh…that’s a really scary train of thought.”

Blade nods. “I’d rather not turn on a terminal to find out it’s actually a Balefire Egg.”

I’m practically screaming in my attempt to politely correct them, explaining that you could never wire that kind of trap to the keyboard, and that you could only ever set it up on a timer or some other means of discharging the capacitor…not to mention you’d need a massive capacitor to overload the reactor…

Sadly, my mouth remains immobile.

Stupid radroaches.

“Okay…” Haywire mutters, officially done setting me up. “You comfy?”

I give him a look that just screams, “Can’t move, remember?”

“Oh. Right. Um…blink once for no, twice for yes.”

Two blinks.

“Alright. Well, we’re gonna be heading out. You gonna be okay?”

I…nnnng…ugh. Fine. Honestly, we’ll probably get out of here quicker without me holding them down.

Two blinks.

“Okay.”

Manner leans down to plant a little kiss on my forehead. “Stay safe, Silver.”

Like I have a choice.

They turn and leave, moving as quietly as they can once the door opens.

Then it slides shut, closing me inside.

And the panic sets in almost instantly.

But…rrrrrg! I just…I just need to trust that they can do their job. Believe in all the random arcanotech trivia I’ve thrown in Haywire’s direction over the years.

……we’re all gonna die.

Nnnnng! No! Have faith, Silver! And just…read some logs or something.

Click. Click.

[Personal log 2: 2/5/2098

Had another cave-in today. Killed one, critically injured three. Barely managed to get those three stable in time.

Unbelievable. What the hell is Fog Bank even looking for down there? What’s so important that we’d have to dig to the bottom of this damn cavern for it?

Well, at least we’re getting some good living space. Honestly, though, sometimes I wonder what goes on in that rotten little head of his.

…in any case, I’ve requisitioned some emergency supplies and put them in the exam room. Should help in the future. They’re in the false back to the top shelf, just to make sure some hooligan doesn’t find them and sell them.

Crap, one of the miners just woke up. Screaming about giant winged unicorns. Gotta go.

~Dr. Stethoscope, MD.]

Well, it’s nice to know about the emergency supplies we already found.

Click.

[Personal log 3: 6/6/2099

Well, things have gotten really slow in the past month or two. No more miners getting hit by cave-ins, no more people falling off the catwalks. My job has been reduced to a glorified nose-wiper.

…not that I’m complaining. After all, if my job gets hectic, it means things have gone straight to hell, so it’s nice to know that’s not happening anymore. It’s especially nice that Fog Bank has finally gotten his underground Laboratory Level. It only took fifteen broken legs, three broken ribs, and eighty six major bruises and cuts. Still won’t tell us what he was after down there.

Prick…

The worst part is, I can’t even blame him. Some things, ponykind is better off not knowing. And I’m sure plenty of ponies will agree. I’m just saying, if there’s some Stable-tec secret weapon he designed buried right under our hooves, then I’d like to know before he goes sticking his undead hooves into its inner workings.]

Hang on…

Undead hooves?!

He designed!?

Stable-tec secret weapon!?!

Was…was Fog Bank a ghoul?

But I thought that didn’t happen in Stables! They’re designed for it not to! And why would Stable-tec be making weapons when they were supposed to be making weapon shelters!?

Ugh…none of this is making any sense.

That’s when I remember the hasty intrusion into the Stable door’s outer terminal.

And it all clicks into place.

A Stable-tec employee who knows about Stable 16 is nearby when the bombs fall. He runs across the nuclear wasteland, slowly dying, before hacking his way into the terminal and crawling inside. He later dies, becomes a ghoul, and the Stable survives because of the auto-closing door thing. Then they take him in, and he does…

…something.

It’s not the whole picture. But it’s a piece of it.

And I have a sudden, urgent desire to check out Fog Bank’s terminal. Maybe find out just what he was looking for.

And maybe…just maybe…if it’s a superweapon of some kind, we could use it to blast our way out of here.

Stupid plan? Absolutely.

Worth it? Totally.

…except I can’t exactly do anything about it, or even tell the others to do anything about it, because some stupid fucking radroach had stupid fucking venom that left me fucking—

A brief rattling noise from under the bed is enough to make me squeak and flail. Well…try and flail. It doesn’t work, but it’s the thought that counts.

I stay perfectly quiet, keeping an ear peeled for whatever it might’ve been.

One minute…

Two minutes…

Nothing.

Since there are apparently no more logs to read, I decide to pick apart the inner workings of the terminal out of sheer boredom. Illusion Talisman here. Spark Reactor here. Spark battery there. Processing cores here, here, here, and here. Pip-buck port he—

I’m immediately distracted by a rattling noise coming from right under the bed.

Okay, I definitely heard that. What was it!? Some kind of evil demon creature that’s going to crawl out and—

No! No. Calm down, Silver. Panicking gets you nowhere.

With a loud CLUNK!, the lights in the room flicker and die.

O-okay…that’s fine. That’s perfectly normal. It just means that they managed to re-connect the Reactor to the Battery Bank, and the Power Distribution Circuit is re-booting. There is absolutely nothing scary about being paralyzed in pitch darkness. Nope, not at all.

From somewhere deep in the bowels of the Stable comes one of those unholy screams. The kind that sound like they’re coming from inside my head.

Okay…it’s okay, Silver. The power switch must have freaked out an alicorn or two. Nothing to be worried about.

Crack! Crack-crack!

Those are definitely gunshots. From Blade.

Perfectly normal. Not indicative of any unpleasant situations at all.

…

Oh dear Goddesses save me now!

The lights blessedly return a few seconds later, but...well, considering what happened next, I almost wish they hadn't.

Ka-chunk! The noise makes me try my hardest to scream and flail and fire off ten million shots with my shotgun, but I'm unfortunately left helpless, wondering just what that noise was that was way too close for comfort. It sounded metallic, so maybe--

Click. Click-click-click.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no way in HELL!

Those are radroach legs.

Those are Radroach noises! Those are definitely radroach noises!

No! Shoo! Go away!

My panic only spikes through the roof as I see the tips of its antennae appear over the bed, followed by its little shell-encased head.

No! No no no no! Just go away! I'm not here, and I'm definitely not helpless right now!

It starts crawling over the edge of the bed, slowly and carefully analyzing me, and probably coming to the realization that I'm 100% paralyzed.

But hey, at least I can still hyperventilate. That's a thing. Good to know.

It keeps trying to figure out whether or not it should presumably devour me alive, while I'm begging Manner to return. Because this is so far from okay that it might as well be on another planet. I haven't heard gunshots in a while, so I'm hopeful, but...GAAAH!

Then the radroach starts crawling forward. On top of me.

Not okay not okay not okay.......

Just...think about getting out of here! You can get out of here! You will get out of here! This is just a minor inconvenience!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck go away go away go away go away.......

To my absolute horror, it doesn't go away.

Instead, a long and painful-looking stinger emerges from its underbelly.

Forget another planet, this is in a whole separate dimension from okay.

Just think about getting out. Think about sunlight.

Think about sunlight.

Think about sunlight.

I clench my eyes shut and prepare for the worst.

Just as three things happen in rapid succession.

First, I felt a sharp pain in my side. That fucking stinger. I officially hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it so fucking much I can't stand this Goddesses-damned Stable.

The door fwooshes open, revealing a panicked and panting Bedside Manner, holding her not-new revolver in her magic and trying to gasp out the words, “Are you okay?” Before she actually processed the situation and realized just how far from okay things were for me.

She panicked for a brief moment as the radroach hissed and leaped for her. Then she caught it in her magic, planted her gun against its head, and growled, “Nopony makes Silver cry.”

BANG!

No level-up.

Author's Note

Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. But...between having my beloved laptop spontaneously die on me, wiping quite a bit of progress, combined with the stresses of college, work, and the ten-or-so other novels I'm in the middle of...well, it's been interesting to say the least. So, hopefully, updates will be a little more frequent in the future (she says, as she takes on two more novels). Don't quote me on that, though.

Also, forewarning: the rest of this story is where shit starts hitting the fan. So...you've been warned.

Enjoy! ^^